It has been pointed out to me by several people that A Boston Brahmin in New Mexico, an article I wrote for my blog in May, left them wanting to hear more, what happened next. The story does indeed continue, although this is not the moment for me to tell it. Suffice it to say that I continued on to California and that while travelling west I met a young fellow about my age heading east. He gave me the address of a person who he described as his teacher, the playwright and poet, Daniel Moore, who is today better known as Daniel Abdalhayy Moore. I did reach California and went to the address in Berkeley. Daniel, who some years earlier had formed a radical ‘street theatre’ called the Floating Lotus Magic Opera Company, invited me to stay as his guest... It must have been early June 1970 and still a few months prior to my 21st birthday.
In the meantime, while sitting in a café in Tangiers, the highly accomplished playwright (he had already several BBC productions to his credit) and author, Ian Dallas, had read in the Rolling Stone about this unusual theatre troupe whose plays were a bizarre mixture of Anti-Viet Nam protest and Tibetan Buddhism. He made the firm intention that should his new screenplay be accepted by one of the Hollywood studios, he would visit these people.
Within a month of my arrival in Berkeley a telegram arrived from Mr Dallas, who was then in Los Angeles, saying that he would very much like to pay Daniel and his theatre group a visit. Using the phone number that had been included with the message, Daniel keenly welcomed him to come. You could say that I was only there by chance, as I had no connection to the other people living in the house.
I do recall Daniel being asked if his theatre was still performing, to which he answered that it wasn’t. He told Mr Dallas that he was presently reading the works of Rumi. I was sitting by the phone while this conversation was taking place, so I saw Daniel put his hand over the phone and say: “He says that he knows everything about Rumi.”
I had begun to feel that I had stayed with these strange people, actors and musicians, long enough, so was about to leave. I had just seen Fellini’s Satyricon at the cinema and was ready to distance myself from the macabre company of the Eastern mystics who inhabited this large Victorian house. Nevertheless, I decided to hold on another week to meet this stranger.
It was a memorable first encounter and the source of many an amusing anecdote, as I was the driver on the day Daniel and I went to the San Francisco Bus Terminal to collect his guest. Our vehicle was the infamous ‘animal car’ (a mobile art project by an Berkeley art student) that was a 1955 Chevy covered in animal fur and without any seats, but instead contained large cushions covered in Indian fabric for the passengers to sit upon. As the driver, I sat on a raised mushroom so that I could at least see the road ahead of me. Even so, there was no way I was going to spot what was coming around the next corner.
Firstly, considering that I was the one person who wasn’t actually meant to be there, I soon embraced Islam by this stranger’s hand. Secondly, I remain indebted to him for everything I have learnt, one way or another, over the intervening forty years as a student of a man I consider the greatest intellect of this age. Of course, some of you will know that our stranger, the celebrated writer, Ian Dallas, is better known today as Shaykh Dr. Abdalqadir as-Sufi.
Well, there‘s the story I started off by saying I wasn’t going to tell. I must conclude that the Islam we were taught was that of the sound teachings of the Prophet Muhammad, may Allah bless him and grant him peace. I did not join a Sufi group. My culture is that of Western Civilization and my love of literature and classical music is part of my cultural heritage. My religion is Islam.
Robert Luongo
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