I hear the call to prayer

I stay in a little apartment here in Toronto and I often leave the window open at night to let the air circulate. As such, I often hear the traffic in the streets below, the drunks yelling obscenities, and general random *bangs* in the night that I assume to be gunshots and hubster says are just mufflers going off. No, hubster, they are gunshots, I swear it by the hair of my chinny chin chin. Every once in a while as I am drifting off to sleep, I hear the call to prayer. Of course, it's not the real call to prayer - it's the bus station a block away announcing random stuff over the loudspeakers. But being in the blur of almost-sleep, I often find myself wondering in the midnight hours what country I am in! I wonder if this happens to all the expats when they go back to their homelands...