Just as the sun begins to set, a low, guttural chanting resonates across the courtyard shared by the Faith Assembly Christian Center and Jamaat Ibad ar-Rahman Masjid (mosque).

"Hayya 'ala-s-salah," the speakers at the threshold of the mosque amplify, "come to prayer!"

The main room of the mosque is modest in appearance with bare white walls, a pale green carpet and ceiling fans churning the heavy summer air. In the far right-hand corner of the room, behind a fold-out wall, the women of the congregation simultaneously kneel and arch their backs to the voice of the imam at the other side of the room:

"Allahu akbar, Allahu akbar!" God is great!

This is a daily ritual for Amina Zouhri, a rising senior at Jordan High School, and her two sisters Aya, 15, and Miriam, 12, who have all been attending prayer at Jamaat Ibad ar-Rahman two to five times a day for as long as they can remember.

During the summer, it is easy for Amina and her friends to find a quiet place to pray at the appropriate times of day, a schedule that corresponds to the location of the sun in the sky. While school is in session, however, they find it much more difficult.

Though two of Amina's closest friends, Sahar and Sawar Osman, choose to pray in the school library between classes, Amina usually waits until she gets home where she can evade the glances and questions of inquisitive peers.

"People like to ask a lot. They're always asking," says Sawar, also a rising senior. "They don't want to be mean; they just want to know what's going on."

The same can be said for hijab, the head covering that many devout Muslim women choose to wear after puberty. (A Muslim is an adherent of the Islam religion.)

"I think people are hesitant towards us," says Aya. "A lot of people don't really mean it in a bad way. They just haven't experienced dealing with people like us so they kind of don't know what to expect. But we grew up here so we're just like any other American."

"Some of the questions are kind of obnoxious, though," Amina adds. "I mean, somebody once asked me if my hair was as long as a football field."

Even though some water parks and private swimming pools prohibit baggy Muslim swim attire, the girls don't let their dress code prevent them from engaging in normal teenage activities.

During the summer, aside from playing volleyball, soccer and tennis and hanging out at the mall, they are all serving as counselors at the Young Girls' Summer Camp sponsored by the mosque and volunteering together at Habitat Hand-Me-Up, a resale store on Shannon Road. They have even formed a girls basketball team, which competes during the school year with five other teams from a Raleigh mosque. Only women are allowed to watch.

"We are just like normal teenage girls, it's just a bit more strict," says Amal Kafi, one of Amina's closest friends. All of the girls agree that most of the prejudice they experience does not come from a place of hostility as much as a place of cultural ignorance.

Amina recalls one particular incident in her world religions class. "This one girl, her dad was a preacher, and she was like, 'So, do all Christians go to hell in your religion?' It was really awkward for me 'cause I don't know how to answer that question."

In order to combat such ignorance, Amina, Sahar and Amal formed a Muslim Awareness Club at Jordan. Much to their surprise, the majority of the people who showed up regularly turned out to be Christians.

"It's easier at school," says Amal. "If you're going out in the store together in a big group of Muslim girls it's just like, 'Terrorists!' "

"I don't think they mean it offensively, but you know how kids act. They just shout it out," says Aya.

All of the girls are devoted to their Islamic faith and plan on continuing to practice the religion as they grow older. Muslim traditions vary from family to family, but these girls say they plan to follow their mothers' example, focusing more on being good wives and mothers than on a career.

"You don't want to make it awkward with your husband," says Sahar. "You want to have his approval so you can stay in a good relationship. And working is a big thing. If your husband says, 'no, don't work' and you work, that's going to get you into some trouble. And if he's going to be coming home hungry and tired and with no food, it's not going to be very good."

Amina, Aya and Miriam's father, Nassar, who moved to the U.S. from Algeria as a student in the mid-1980s, worried about raising his daughters and their 14-year-old brother Hamza in a society so different from the one he grew up in.

"Here, everything is so abundant," he says. "People are free to do whatever they want, which is good and bad. You have gangs, you have drinking, you have sexual problems with girls getting pregnant. You just don't see this back in our society."

His wife Fatima has found it rewarding to raise her children here, where they are constantly being challenged by outside influences but, nevertheless, choose to remain faithful to Islam.

"I put all my energy on them, and then when they reach this age it's up to them to take over ..." says Fatima. "... We put the seed and it's up to them to grow."