Oh Ramadan. I am not really even sure where to begin explaining to everyone back home about the month of Ramadan. I know that I am a little less than a month late on this, but I figured better late than never.
Essentially it is the holiest Islamic month where muslims prove their respect to God by fasting and abstaining from vices (ie smoking, sexual activities, ect) from sun-up to sundown. Each year this holy month moves up exactly 11 days, in accordance with the Islamic calendar and the phases of the moon. This year Ramadan occupied most of the month of August.
I would like to also say that August average temperatures in my village and surrounding cities are in the 110s to 120s. People in absurance of fast also cannot drink water from sun-up to sun down.
To an outside like me, the month is an interruption to my normal schedule. Since I am not fasting and everyone else is, it means keeping all my eating to secret places like my home and having to put a lot of extra thought into travel. If I were just planning on spending the month at home, in my village, it would be no issue. The problem comes with traveling.
As many of you know, I have terrible to non-existent access to the internet in my village meaning at least once a week I make the hour and a half journey to Tiznit to check my emails and figure out what's happening in the world. This means packing lots of snacks and hiding my bottle of water. This also means sneaking into bathrooms/ back-rooms to eat a little something before a long journey. To be honest, I didn't mind this shady behavior one bit. The devotion and friendship I saw amongst friends a families made it all worth it.
Mind you, the general mood of the population is pretty crabby and unpleasant because well, its hot and they are not eating or drinking.
The cool part happens about an hour before sunset. The town comes alive. Kids venture outside. People head to the market and general excitement fills the air.
I broke fast the entire month with my counterpart and her family. It was amazing how welcoming and excited they were to share their fast-breaking food with me. The fast breaking occurs right at the call to prayer, signifying the sun has set. It always starts with a bowl of soup, usually Harira (Moroccan-chili-ish) and a date. From there we eat hard boiled eggs, lots of sweet pastries and fresh juice. The first breaking fast meal ends with a cup of coffee or some Moroccan mint tea.
It was quite cool to be a part of watching people devour food, before the call to prayer was even finished. I broke fast with this family the first 5 nights in a row, then I was starting to feel guilty, like I was impeding on some family time by being a repeat guest, so the 6th night, I stayed at home. About 2 minutes before the call to prayer, little 3 year old Shaema comes knocking on my door telling me to hurry up or I was going to miss breakfast. Okay, so maybe they did want me to come.
That 7th night, I stayed in my house and no one came to get me. I figured it was good to give the family a break from me eating all their food. That next morning they were knocking on my door and asking if I was sick. I tried to explain to them that it was rude to go over there every night and eat their food, that in America, that would be considered rude. They just laughed and laughed calling me crazy and telling me it wasn't rude at all. Just another example of how my culture interacts with Moroccan culture, often times confusing the Moroccans I live around.
The 8th night I made scones and brought them over, just so I felt like I was contributing. They really liked it.
The truth is that to an outsider like me, Ramadan is a month of inconvenience and less than friendly people but when I took the opportunity to look past the obvious, I saw a lot of devotion to God, a lot of 'family' bonding time and lots of generosity. I am sure Moroccans would have the same observations if they were to come to America and observe the holy month of retail Christmas.
All-in-all it was a complicated month filled with lots of frustrations but also a lot of love. I don't know if I will do nearly as much traveling during Ramadan next year, maybe just commit myself to my home for those dreaded graduate school applications. Inshalla.
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