Ramadan Redux

I can hardly believe it myself, but not only is it my second Ramadan in the UAE, but I’m already finding we’re halfway through the Muslim holy month.

It’s strange what a difference a year makes. Last year during Ramadan I found myself nervous about the whole event. There was a sort of self-consciousness on my part about not fully understanding Ramadan, a feeling of sticking out as a Westerner, and a constant worry about making a giant gaff. I even had dreams about committing a Ramadan faux pas. In it I am struck over the head with a blunt object, only to wake up and find myself drinking water and dressing immodestly and ending up in Ramadan jail. For the record, there is no such thing as Ramadan jail, though the leering look of observers can be punishment enough so people need to be and are very mindful in these parts). 

A date and camel's milk is the traditional
way to break one's fast during Ramadan

And while my self-consciousness has pretty much abated, Ramadan does still remind me that I am a minority here. That’s not to say that I’m the only tall blonde shiksa in Abu Dhabi – believe me, we’re a dime a dozen. But when three-quarters of your community is observing a month-long fast, you feel it. You feel it in the flow of the day, in the demeanor of the people (ALL people, not just those fasting) and you feel empathy for what people might be going through.

With the focus off myself, I’ve found that I have a much keener sense of the hunger among my Muslim neighbors this year than I did last year.  

There were the first days when I was out with my running club and all along the Corniche (a waterside promenade that is a popular gathering place for everyone in the city), workers such as taxi cab drivers, security guards and well-heeled Arab families set up both simple and lavish picnic Iftar meals, waiting for the sundown call to prayer to break the fast. No matter who you were (my running group was waiting to be able to drink water), the sense of anticipation was palpable as people gazed at the sunset. Of course, it was the runners who guzzled fast and furiously when the prayer finally started a bit after 7 p.m..

Then there’s the security guard in my building. A burly and devout Muslim man, as I pop in and out of the building throughout the day I see how his look and demeanor change as the daytime hours wear on. The bright morning greeting turns to a mere grunt and nod as his eyes sink into his hungry head. By late afternoon I do my best to avoid him.

There was also the evening when John and I pulled up to a popular hotel for a quick bite before a movie and outside in front, cars were practically left abandoned in the porte cochere as those observing the fast bee-lined for the massive Iftar buffets in a specially constructed Ramadan tent that can be as opulent, popular and well-attended as the famed Dubai brunches (minus one very noticeable feature -- alcohol).

Waiting for the sun to set in Al Ain

But once that sundown call to prayer arrives, it’s feast time. While the fast is recommended to be broken with a glass of camel’s milk and a date, followed by a larger meal a bit later, extended families gather in the nighttime hours, coworkers mingle at corporate-sponsored Iftar tents at the posh five-star hotels, and even the tiny storefront kebab shops in our neighborhood stay open late and do brisk trade (for instance, the local Kentucky Fried Chicken stays open until 4 a.m., many other places are open until 2 a.m.). 

In fact, our local newspaper reports that a local hospital is currently seeing up to 50 patients in their emergency rooms each evening during Ramadan. Of course, it’s not the fasting that’s driving them to the ER, it’s the gluttony that follows – eating too much, too quickly.   

Now that I’m in my Ramadan groove, I try to avoid everything from about 3 p.m. until 7:30 p.m.  -- in the same way I always avoided rush hour on the subways while living in NYC. Driving on the roads is dangerous – what with the road rage and exhausted drivers drifting in and out of the lanes.  Even just walking the streets can be tough. Seeing people so obviously hungry, tired and worn out makes me want to reach out and give people a hug (and slip them a candy bar, though that would not be looked upon positively). Then there’s the hubs, who seems to have to partake in the fast as collateral damage for working during Ramadan. While work hours are shorter and there are special places for non-Muslims to eat in the office, many people just take the time off. Not John, and unfortunately he doesn’t come prepared to get through the day (nearly all restaurants are shuttered during the day). In other words, I don’t send him off in the morning packed with a sandwich (bad wifey).

As for me, I keep a low profile and stick to the outer edges of the community. I spend the days writing (I finished a screenplay draft!), check out the very few places I can go for lunch, play lots of golf (mainly for the post-golf clubhouse dining) and despite my best efforts of using Ramadan to do house projects like organizing my clothes closets and cleaning out my computer of old files and trying my hand at painting, I find I slow down my pace just like everyone else.

Ramadan Mubarak!

You've Got Your Ramadan Problems, I've Got Mine

It’s been two Saturdays since John and I sat on our couch looking down along Electra Street watching a flurry of activity as Ramadan commenced.  We learned enough to not be surprised that the supermarket was doing brisk trade, but when we saw the cars triple-parked, lights flashing, with a chaotic charge of kundara-clad men and abaya-fied women heading into Starbucks for one last caffeine fix before the holy month began, I have to admit, we had a bit of a chuckle.

Since the start of Ramadan, I have felt a bit guilty about laughing at that frenetic sight. The tone that came over my neighborhood by the very next morning when I said good morning to my normally gregarious doorman and normally friendly shop workers at the dry cleaners was certainly a more somber one. So when John sent me a link to a BBC article about #RamadanProblems, a new trending term on various social media platforms, I felt a bit of relief.

When I’m not fed for a few hours (say, five) my blood sugar crashes and I go into a state that the hubs and I have come to term ‘bitch hungry.’ 

Bitch hungry, anyone?

You probably know the signs. Cranky mood, spinning eyes, on the verge of a meltdown at the slightest of triggers -- like if someone merely looks at me funny. Oh, and when I’m 'bitch hungry,' I find humor in absolutely nothing. For this reason, John can usually be found with a stash of granola bars at the ready whenever we go on a road trip or are out and about for a few hours… just in case.

So when I read about these Ramadan problems, I was impressed. Not only could fasting Muslims manage to last fourteen plus hours without any food or water, but they could LAUGH about it as well.  That said, this is my first Ramadan in a Muslim country, and if I plant my tongue firmly in my cheek, I guess you could say, I have a few #RamadanProblems of my own…

This... Worse than the white man overbite.

For starters, every day for me is like one big blonde moment. I find I’m constantly checking myself before I go out. Am I dressed modestly enough? (Yep, shoulders and knees are covered.) Am I eating a candy bar? (No, it appears not. I’m good to go.) Am I sure I’m not eating a candy bar? (Yes, no candy bar.) Or walking down the street with a slice of pizza in hand? (Nope, nope, they only do that in NYC, I’m good.) Then I slip on out to meet a friend and as I wait in the searing sun I think, “Oh, I should just pop into this store and get a bottle of water, since it’s so damn hot out.” And then I think, "DOH!" Because I can’t drink water in public. And really, I do something like this every single day.

Another Ramadan problem I’ve been faced with is going to the supermarket.  In the morning it’s fine. There’s still a sense of sanity, but one day I made the mistake of going in the afternoon and it was mayhem. What I didn’t realize is that despite the fasting, somebody’s got to prepare the evening and morning meals (iftar and suhoor). So not only are you dealing with people’s mounting hunger (ever on the lookout for those spinning eyes), there are so many large-scale family gatherings that afternoons at the supermarket is like food shopping right before Thanksgiving or Christmas -- a complete madhouse (and a complete madhouse for thirty days!). And while I maneuver through it pretty well, allowing people to cut me at the produce line and not even bothering at the ‘deli’ counter and keeping clear of people with their carts overflowing with food, all I can think is how pathetic I must look with my small shopping basket of cat food tins and a medium-sized slab of salmon to cook dinner for two.

What’s really noticeable is that during Ramadan, Abu Dhabi is a sleepy seaside town during the day that becomes pulsing and alive at night. After sunset, if you’re Muslim, there are iftars to attend, shisha to be enjoyed, family to gather with, and shopping to be done (not for food, but for fun stuff like electronics and clothes). At two in the morning there’s bustling street traffic and the shops and the malls and even my dry cleaning shop closes around one in the morning.  I haven’t hit up the malls at night since I prefer to avoid the crowds, and we haven’t done iftar, because if you’re not fasting the feeling I get that it’s probably just like going out for an Arabic meal, buffet style – and I hate buffets. But still, having a strong memory of my ‘party’ days back in NYC, there is this sense of ‘missing out’ on the fun. FOMO, my friends call it. Fear of Missing Out. But when you’re not Muslim, you really can’t expect an invitation to the party.

So really, Ramadan for the non-Muslim in the UAE is just a series of small inconveniences in exchange for some bonuses as well. The pubs may not open until after sunset, but there’s no music allowed so you can have a decent conversation with your spouse or friends. You may have to watch out for the driver who floats from lane to lane delirious with hunger or sleep deprivation, but the roads are overall quieter and less traveled (during the day at least). And while there are very few restaurants or cafes open, I can still buy bacon by the basket full.  

Being here for Ramadan was discussed as a ‘really big thing.’ I guess what I’m finding is that while this is starkly different to anything I have ever experienced before… it’s not difficult, or unbearable. Of course, that's easy for me to say as I eat a cookie and a full English breakfast at whim, but out of sight.

What I have learned is that as different as we are in our faith and practice of it, we’re all just people, doing our thing, getting by with a bit of humor... so we’re really not that different at all.

I just hope I don’t run into my fasting, b*tch-hungry nemesis any time soon.  ;-)

A Ramadan Knock-Knock Joke

Knock-Knock.

Who’s there?

Ramadan.

Ramadan who?

Sorry to say, I don’t have a punchline. It’s just that Ramadan is knocking on our door and it’s no joke. It's serious. There is no Muslim equivalent to being a ‘Christmas Catholic’ here. People are preparing, discussing, and fleeing town. The holy month begins here on Saturday evening, with the first full day of Ramadan on Sunday.  And John and I are here to see our way through it.  

As most know, Ramadan is a time when Muslims around the world fast during daylight hours. But what I didn’t know is that the month of Ramadan is not about atonement, and the fasting that Muslims do is not about looking for forgiveness for sins. It’s actually about living more simply, self-reflection and becoming closer with Allah. So, this is not exactly a somber time, even though I suspect I would feel a bit somber if I had to abstain from food and water for 14 hours a day for 30 days. In fact, the word ‘celebrate’ is used a lot when referring to Ramadan and there are sparkly lights being put up all around the city that reminds me a lot of… Christmas.

A light display in our neighborhood

Christmas? Well, that’s confusing, right? Let’s confuse things more. Because, right now at the supermarkets, there are heaploads of foodstuff on display complete with point-of-sale promotions, discounts on staple items and festive decorations that say “Ramadan Kareem!”

But it’s all about fasting, right? Yeah, but, after the fasting comes the celebrations.  This is where we get into Iftar, which are these large elaborate meals that ‘celebrate’ the breaking of the fast.  Iftar meals seem to be large banquet-style affairs or family meal gatherings, usually set up in a tent. So far I’ve seen iftar tents set up at hotels, in town squares next to a mosque near Hatta a few weeks ago, and even next to a private villa in our neighborhood. John and I have even been invited to an Iftar hosted by his company. (I can’t wait.)

Of course, being non-Muslim, I haven’t bought anything to prepare. I wonder if it’s like not buying milk and bread in advance of a snowstorm, or not having flashlights and a generator at the ready in advance of a hurricane. Right now our pantry is not exactly stocked (I’m kind of a buy-as-you-go kind of gal) and I feel like I should be squirreling away food, putting together meal plans and hoarding a supply of pork products or at least a package of dates. Oops?

As an expat newbie in a Muslim country, I’ve asked everyone from my seasoned expat golfing ladies to my taxi driver what it all means and how it will impact my life. On the surface it seems simple enough. Work hours are shortened. Restaurants, cafes and food courts at the shopping malls are closed during daylight hours and shops may or may not be open. If they are, the hours may be odd. The other thing I was told is that dress needs to be really kept in check, so any knee-baring skirts will be put into the back of the closet for a few weeks (as a rule, I generally don’t wear shorts outside of the home or on the golf course). Oh, and there’s also the issue of food and drink. No food or drink (even water) out in public during the fasting hours.

Seems simple enough, right?

Well… yes and no. The challenges begin to dawn on you when you start preparing for your day-to-day activities…

For instance, Sunday is a golfing day for me. Usually I get up, throw on my golf shorts/skirt, crack open a diet coke and grab a granola bar and depart the apartment with both in hand. Then I drive to the course, radio (sometimes) blaring with one of the morning shows from Dubai. Out on the course, I’ll drink lots of water, eat a pineapple Popsicle, and then meet the ladies for coffee or tea and maybe a bite of lunch in the clubhouse before heading home.

But this week, I will wake up earlier so that I have time to eat in my home (if I’m seen drinking water or eating in public or even in my car, I could be arrested, fined or publicly scorned). I’ll put my golf shorts on, but will throw a long skirt over it as well. In the car, I’m not sure if radio stations will be playing music (music is not allowed), so Lady Gaga may be on hold for a while and I’ll have to be more mindful of drivers who are fasting as there are warnings about increased accidents and road rage. As for what happens on the golf course, it’s anyone’s guess. I suspect thirst will be an issue and forget the Popsicles, and it’s only about 104 degrees here at Midday at the moment. Back at the clubhouse, they may serve food and drink, but it may be in a partitioned area away from any public view. Or it may be closed until the evening hours. I just don’t know.

When I asked the taxi driver the other day how this will all go down, he responded, “It will be extremely quiet. No one on the roads. Everything shut down during the day.” I asked if he will continue working during the day since the hubs relies on cabs to get to and from the office. He shook his head. “I will stop work from 2 p.m. until 7 p.m.” He explained that he will rest during this time, waiting for his fast to end… which means if my husband hangs out at the office, I may become his personal chauffeur for the month. In the evening, “everyone will be out, the streets, the malls, the hotels will all be busy, people will be everywhere.”

I’m not sure how this will all shake out. In the big scheme of things, this isn't going to be too big a deal. At least I hope that's the case. And there are several things I like about Ramadan. I like the idea that fasting (and also refraining from water, caffeine, cursing, smoking and a few other things) is a way to get closer to one’s faith versus what I originally thought was some sort of self-punishment. I also like that getting closer to Allah (or any god or higher power) is seen as something to celebrate. I’d like to believe that if there is a god, then s/he needs to be a kind and generous one. I also like the focus on celebrating iftar with others, whether it be family, friends or friends you just haven’t met yet at the iftar tent. The sparkling lights are nice, as are the small acts of kindness and generosity that also go with Ramadan. Charitable giving is in focus during Ramadan, as well as just being kind to your neighbor.  And just like Christmas, there are megasales going on, if you're up for going to the mall at 10 in evening…

Anyway, I suspect this slowed pace will provide for some introspection and stock-taking of our own as well, but for now I do have a few Ramadan projects:

• John and I have a ‘playlist’ of television shows and dvd box sets we are going to watch. Apparently, our Muslim counterparts will be doing the same, as AIrabic television shows will premiere their newslate of shows, with series’ running through the month and ending at Eid. (Fascinating!)
• I’ve got to clean my computer files, and rejigger my email folders. This could take weeks.
• I’m going to begin writing a new script. It would be amazing if I could jam out a first draft in thirty days, but that’s not going to happen, I just don’t write that way. At least it will get started. 
• I will be focused more on developing my writing life here. I need to develop a schedule, set some goals, treat the writing like a very important but (for now) unpaid job. Until a paid job appears or I sell a screenplay. I will continue to job hunt in the travel/tourism sector here.
• I’m already reading more, but I will read EVEN more! I’m aiming to read 15 scripts in 30 days and finish reading two books. 
• Finally, I am going to attempt to construct a cat tree for my two furry housemates. I think our apartment suits them very well, but they are tree dwellers and need high perches, of which we have none at the moment.  I tend to start and not finish projects like this, so I will be mindful to only start what I know I can finish. This will take planning, and tools, and possibly the use of a saw and staple gun (thank god for that upholstery class I took last year!).

I will play less golf, socialize less during the day (lots of people have left for the summer anyway) and not go to the beach (can’t drink water unless I sneak into a toilet stall). I will shop early in the morning instead of in the afternoon as I usually do. We’ll likely not go out much in the evening, though we’ve been told our local will be open after 7:30 p.m. each evening.

I’ll keep you all posted on our Ramadan experiences. In the meantime...

Ramadan Kareem!