HAMTRAMCK, Mich. — These are the sounds of Caniff Street on a windy spring afternoon:
Shrieks and giggles from children bouncing a playground ball. Chimes from the St. Ladislaus Catholic Church bell. The thump of rap music. The rumble of a Doritos delivery truck. The shrill of a teacher's whistle, calling kids in from recess.
Later this month, another sound will join the Caniff Street cacophony: The azan, or Muslim call to prayer, will echo five times a day from the scuffed beige building across from the church.
"Allahu Akbar," the mosque's president will intone. Allah is the greatest.
"Ashhadu allailaha illallah," he will sing into the loudspeaker. There is no other God but Allah.
The City Council in this community of 23,000 last week approved the mosque's request to amplify the traditional call to prayer. The imam says the chant, which lasts about a minute and a half, will be heard for a block or two at most.
"It's beautiful music, really, a very good rhythm, and the meaning is good," said Abusayed Mahfuz, a member of the mosque. "I don't see why there should be a problem."
But the council's unanimous decision has touched off anger, and fear, in this historically Polish Catholic town.
"With so much going on in the world with terrorism, people are afraid maybe they'll be saying things [in Arabic] that we don't understand," said Marti Sharp, 47, a bakery manager.
"If they're going to say it out loud, at least they should say it in English," added co-worker Kathy Trusick, 60.
Circulating a petition to overturn the council's vote, some residents insist their sole objection is the noise. Others raise more fundamental concerns: It's not right, they say, for a patriotic Midwest city to ring with praise for Allah.
"I'm not a bigot. But as an American citizen, I shouldn't have to have someone else's religion constantly called to my attention," said Bob Golen, 68.
"If you want to pray, wonderful," said his wife, Joanne, also 68. "Do it in your mosques. Do it in your homes. But don't bring it to my front porch. Amen."
Settled by Polish immigrants who came to work at the Dodge automobile factory that opened here in 1914, Hamtramck has long taken pride in its ethnic flavor -- its polka music and pierogi and Polish bakeries loaded with sugar-dusted pastries.
"A touch of Europe in America," folks here liked to say.
