Ramadan salam

It's that time of year again--11 days earlier (by the solar calendar) than last year and a few degrees hotter. I'm much more tuned in to the quiet of Ramadan this year, the lighter traffic outside my window (during the day), the calm of the streets (most people aren't into fasting and also walking around when it's 110 with 85% humidity), and my growing knowledge of what this month means to many people here.

Observing Ramadan is one of the five pillars of Islam. Not all Muslims observe it, but many here do. By law, no restaurants are open in the day time and eating in public is a huge no-no (punishable by a fine). At school, we follow similar guidelines. Kids eat in the cafeteria only (adults are confined to the staff room) and no one has a water bottle in class. Even chowing down while driving is frowned upon because you are clearly visible through the windows.

As a result, many non-Muslims moan and groan about Ramadan. It is one of the few times a year when Abu Dhabi is more foreign than familiar. I myself did some sighing at the thought of giving up my Friday morning cappuccino, shallow as that sounds. Ramadan is inconvenient and fraught with potential frustrations. Business change their hours. Government and financial business is hard to transact. Doors close early or open far too late. Going out for breakfast or lunch is impossible.

Given these issues (which affect everyone), I was surprised to discover how much Muslims look forward to Ramadan. Having to fast during daylight hours didn't strike me as something to anticipate gleefully. Something to endure for the sake of your faith, sure. Something that makes theological sense as a form of meditation and self-denial, naturally. But excitement? A time for twinkly light displays on the roads and celebratory decor in the malls? (Both happening.) But it's true, and it's cool. I read an article in the local Time Out magazine that profiled Muslims from all walks of life (from construction worker to chef (ouch) to business owner to belly dancer). All said they loved Ramadan. They loved the time of year. They loved iftar (the meal to break the fast at the sundown). They loved eating special foods and hanging out. The construction worker said it felt like a kind of holiday. Holiday? Due to the heat, the guy works from 9:00 p.m.-3:30 a.m. during the holy month. But he's down with it. On the first day of school, one of my old students (not profiled in the magazine) talked about how psyched she is for next Ramadan (already anticipating it) when she'll be able to spend most of it in Palestine with her extended family. I got an email from the parent of three of my students (they're triplets) talking about how her kids are fasting, not because they have to but because they love Ramadan so much. (And this is not a religiously conservative family by any stretch.)

Ramadan is also, I've discovered, not really about the food. Actually, for me, it'd be about the water. (I'd be much more into trying a fast or two if I could just drink water.) But it's not about that either. It's about abstaining in general. And I don't just mean fleshly pursuits (though those count), but about negative thoughts, anger, jealous, greed. People can "break their fast" by being rude or dismissive in the same way they can break it by sipping tea. In fact, everyone I've talked to about Ramadan says not eating is the easy part. It's the other stuff that's harder. After all, you get to eat a big meal with your family and friends at sundown and make up for the physical fast (many report that they actually gain weight!). It's harder to "make up for" being bitchy or judgemental. As a result, people try to be more generous and thoughtful. Ramadan is a time for reaching out and for charity. The huge Sheikh Zayed mosque (profiled in Sept 2008 and December 2008 entries) hosts a nightly iftar in its parking lot for over 15,000 people throughout Ramadan. 15,000 people. Every single night of the Holy Month.

All this positive energy floating around is almost tangible this year. I don't want to sound all whoo-whoo, but ever since reading about peoples' excitement (rather than the dread I assumed), I've picked up a distinctly peaceful, calm vibe around town. This may fade as the month progresses, but it's definitely noticeable now. My feelings toward Ramadan have also changed. Rather than feeling sorry for my Muslim friends and students, I'm happy for them. More than that, I respect (and am a bit envious of) their world view that transforms a (to me) draconian religious imperative into a genuine celebration. Sounds like a pretty good definition of faith to me.

Ramadan Kareem!