Ramadan 101 (-ish)

A light display in front of an Istanbul mosque with "Welcome , Ramadan" text in Turkish

This morning:

Coworker *shows up with a box of chocolate chip cookies, munching one as they speak*: Hey, would you like a cookie?
Me: No, thanks, it’s Ramadan.
Coworker: Oh, I thought that was in October or something.
Me: Nope – just began today.
Coworker continues munching on the cookie in front of me while standing there with the box of cookies.
Me: Um, I think eating in front of someone who is fasting may be considered rude.
**awkward exchange of looks**

After experiencing two more food offers (a delicious cheesecake slice and homemade smoothie) by dear coworkers, I thought I’d write this blogpost on some details about Ramadan for the information of both my coworkers and my friends.

Ramadan is a month that is very near and dear to my heart because it is the month that has made me appreciate Islam for what it truly is over what the media, and indeed political manipulators claim it to be sometimes.

Having grown up in a Kosovar home largely devoid of religion (my father frequented the mosque on holidays and some Fridays, very different from my grandfather, who was an imam), I learned to appreciate the beauty of Islam in St. John’s, on my own time, without the social pressures that are sometimes part of being a member of a faith community.

It’s been extremely exciting and eye-opening to learn to distinguish context from literal interpretations, history from the present, culture and religious norm from quranic rules and guidelines (something that is not always easy to do).

What makes us who we are today is the context in which we were born, in which we have grown up, and in which we live – three different realities seeking harmony in the present, but what is often claimed by traditionalists is that Islam is a timeless religion, a religion that fits to all times. I agree, but I think the way in which we understand Islam should change, and not lack the context of the dawn of Islam, in the 700s, when many of the rules and laws were created.

Kandil (mini-lights) around the mosque minarets in Istanbul lit for iftar

I digress – I began this blogpost to write about a holy month that has inspired me to embrace Islam more than anything or anyone ever has. Ramadan, the most important month of the year for Muslims, is upon us.

It is said that Ramadan is the month when Prophet Muhammad received the entirety of the Qur’an in 30 days. To commemorate this time, most Muslims (except for travelers, pregnant women, children, the elderly, and individuals with health problems) must commit to a month of fasting from dawn (around 3:50 am in NL this year) to sunset (8:40 pm, changing every day by a minute or so). As the Qur’an states, you may eat and drink at night

until you can plainly distinguish a white thread from a black thread by the daylight: then keep the fast until night.

Fasting is coordinated according to the local prayer calendar (PDF file), which includes the dawn and sunset times. Because the Islamic calendar is a lunar one, it is 10 days shorter than the Gregorian calendar widely used around the world – therefore, Ramadan creeps back 10 days every year. In the summer (like this year), it’s a particularly long day of fasting that lasts close to 17 hours, which is what worries this New York Times commentator.

The fast is the first step towards reaching a state of full self-reflection, i.e. re-examining one’s connection to Allah and the earthly deeds connected to that relationship.

Ramadan is the month when Muslims can start afresh – the practice of giving up vices (in some Muslim cultures, including Northern Africa, the Balkans, Turkey, and former Soviet states – vices may include alcohol) and abstaining from food, water, and physical relations is meant to awaken a sense of heightened awareness about our needs and wants, as well as our ability to help others. You know how you always say you really want to help others, but you don’t know how? Ramadan teaches one to begin with a single person and a single act – anyone can do a single act of charity towards someone else in need, and this includes talking to people who are lonely or who may be new to your surroundings. The point is, one gives what one has.

During the month, Muslims are encouraged to adopt families in need and to support them in any way they can, be it financial or amical (with hopes that that support will be extended beyond the month of Ramadan). This is part of sadaqah, or charity, that Muslims are encouraged to make throughout the year. As President Obama stated in his 2011 Ramadan greetings, charity is direly needed in places like Somalia and the Horn of Africa.

Prophet Muhammad is attributed the following quote:

Every day the sun rises, charity is due on every joint of a person. Administering justice between two people is a charity; and assisting a man to mount his beast, or helping him load his luggage on it is a charity; and a good word is a charity; and removing harmful things from the road is a charity.

The fast is also intended to help individuals who are better off learn to sympathize with those who are not – humility and empathy for others are some key lessons to be drawn from Ramadan.

In addition to fasting, Muslims are encouraged to take part in the tarawih, daily evening prayers, usually held at 10:30 pm, and lasting a couple of hours, of repeated prayers to Allah, some individuals choosing to learn to recite the entirety of the Qur’an during the month the same way in which the holy book was dictated to the Prophet Muhammad.

A typical iftar in a Kosovar home

I remember Ramadan in Kosova as a delightful time, when the smell of warm, delicious bread in local bakeries permeated the air as I played outdoors with friends. Just as exciting were the last 5 minutes before iftar (or the breaking of the fast). We all waited in anticipation for the lighting of the local mosque minaret mini lights in the horizon: the moment we saw the minaret light up, we all ran to our homes as fast as we could, shouting “it’s over! it’s over!”, mostly just excited that we could finally enjoy all the delicious food our parents had spent hours cooking. To break the fast, we would eat turkish delight, or llokum, as we call it, or dates, followed by some substantial foodism.

My Ramadans in St. John’s have been very different – no minarets, no shouting children on the street, and no smell of warm homemade bread to excite my senses as I come back from work. However, what I’ve grown to appreciate over time has been the open-minded curiosity that friends and colleagues have shown in wanting to learn about what Ramadan means to me; their curiosity, respect, and indeed, repeated invitations to have iftar exchanges in their homes continue to feed my excitement today.

So, as you look around your workplace and/or your friends’ circle, consider the following article about Ramadan etiquette.

You may notice your colleagues’ absence around the lunch table over the next month (until August 29^th in St. John’s). If you really feel so inclined to induce a happy face or smile reaction off your co-worker and/or friend, wish them “Ramadan kareem” or “Ramadan mubarak”.

And if you really want to visit the local mosque in St. John’s during one of the prayers to see what this is all about, check out the Muslim Association’s website. I’m not affiliated with the Association in any way, but I do frequent the mosque – alternatively, you can just let me know.

Ramadan Mubarak!

P.S: My Twitter post is still not done, but coming soon!

A Father’s Gratitude

He sat down, his head buried between his hands, holding himself from crying. It was a sad Saturday afternoon last weekend, cloudy, rainy and cold. The man, taller than me by at least a foot and much larger than me, was a defeated man. His three-month-old daughter passed away after a two-week ordeal in hospital.

I didn’t know what to say. There isn’t much I could have said, except to tell him that he could rest assured the doctors had tried their best to help his daughter live.

He looked up, nowhere in particular, then turned to me, and following a long breath that he let out, added: “I am grateful for everything they did. They asked me for permission every time they wanted to conduct a test on her. I felt respected and treated like a human being. For the first time in a long time, I was human. I wasn’t a minority, my skin colour did not matter, and my lack of English was irrelevant.”

For anyone who was born in Canada or anyone spent most of their life here, this man’s words may sound strange and out of context. But for someone who arrived here only a few months ago, respect, equal treatment, and non-discrimination are a treasure. Especially when you’re a Roma from Europe.

For all the pain that I felt for this father’s loss, I was inspired by this man’s humanity  to have such an appreciation of the kindness shown to him in the face of great difficulty.

To die a little

One of my favourite quotations comes from the French poet of the late 19th century, Edmond Haraucourt: “Partir, c’est mourir un peu” (To leave/go away is to die a little bit), he wrote.

I remember leaving Newfoundland two years ago, and if anyone could imagine a person who is torn about staying home and discovering a new world, that was me. I wanted to see a new place, experience what it meant to study in one of the oldest universities in Europe, make new friends, but most of all, expand my knowledge of conflicts and the ways to prevent them. Yet, my desire to be away was met with much emotional distress, that impossible wish to discover the world’s ills by staying in the shelter of the island of Newfoundland – managing to think about the wars, the issues, the seemingly endless problems that follow after conflict is transformed into a more peaceful, manageable feat.

After two years in Oxford, I am back in Newfoundland and feeling quite refreshed. I am enjoying the wind, the rain, the routine hellos from random strangers I meet on the street, the hilly streets I can’t conquer with my bicycle, the endless questions ending with “what now?” [i may be enjoying these less than I would like to, particularly because people appear to have visions of where they would like me to be, as opposed to where I would like to be].

The point is, I graduated with an MPhil in International Relations at the University of Oxford at the end of July, spent August working and seeing Northern Italy and visiting a dear friend there, and the last month or so reading fun fiction and practising my shoddy Arabic script. Oh, and I’ve also been going out for meals with friends and watching news (switching back and forth from CBC’s “Here and Now” to the main RTK news program). And in between all of this, I’ve had some extra time to think about the things that make me as attracted to this land as to the land I left behind long time ago.

One cannot help but notice how much everything changes in so little time. I have changed much, and in many ways, my idealism has changed from what it once was (not to suggest in any way that it is no longer idealism). My friends too, have changed: They now have children, partners, husbands and wives, new houses, new jobs, new homes in other towns and even other provinces. We have all changed in many ways. But one thing that remains the same is this land: The patchy green on the rocky hills, the greys of the skies and the sturdy trees, a design of the winds that blow ceaselessly, meshing perfectly to evoke a sensation of a safe place.

No matter how many of us go away or stay, move in or out, this place will remain alive, as strong today as ever, to overcome whatever may come in its way. It may be because there will always be someone to keep a fireplace going, or to joke about the disasters that came over them the way that only Newfoundlanders and Labradorians do.

Perhaps, more than for any other reason, I am back because I found I have so much in common with the kind, generous, welcoming, but also patient and resilient residents of this land. Perhaps that brought me back, even if I died a little when I left it two years ago, even if I died a little when I left Oxford a month ago.

Newfoundland to Japan – Go, Holly, Go!

I was pleasantly surprised over my holiday break to find out my good friend Holly was off to Japan on an exchange trip to Japan, which sounded amazing! Holly is in a group with other Newfoundlanders and Labradorians, as well as other Canadians, along with some French young professionals, and their Japanese counterparts, and will be touring Japan. What an excellent way of spending the last few months of Newfoundland winter! Here’s the blog of Holly’s group. I’m looking forward to the news updates and stories from the land of the rising sun!

Cougar Crash in Newfoundland

I woke up this morning to a BBC Radio report about the Cougar helicopter crash off the coast of Newfoundland yesterday. Apparently, 16 members of the crew of an oil rig are still missing in the water, the helicopter is now at the bottom of the sea, and there are speculations the crew may have been trapped in the helicopter.

They came from all parts of the province, on their way to another shift on the rig. I feel sad for the families and friends of the 16, at this time when sorrow can make things no better. My thoughts are with them.