The End of Ramadhan

The photos show my house and the view of the mountains from our front door. This hour has become my favorite, and not only because it is when we have iftar, (although this definitely made me relish sunset even more). When I need a break from the kids running around, which can vary from two to seven depending on which brothers and sisters are visiting from my two other mamas, I go sit on the roof. One of these nights we are planning to sleep out there.
09.10.07
Thoughts on Ramadhan

Only a few days left of Ramadhan; at this point it feels completely natural to, snake-like, consume a large quantity of food over the period of a few hours and spend the next 20+ hours digesting. I doubt that I will even feel hungry in the morning for the first few days, although probably I feel end up feeling more thirsty, as having access to water only seems to increase one’s desire for it. Probably because the need for water is constant, therefore if it is available, the body clamors for it. And perhaps I will go crazy for food as well, or at least for the possibility of having it. I have already begun to plan which juices I have not tried yet and plan to once I can go to the store over lunch break—before Ramadhan I had never even considered going, as I could bring food from home for free. I wonder whether I have gained actually valuable knowledge from this experience, or if I have simply deepened the already-complex relationship to food instilled by an American girlhood.
I have learned that after waiting through the hours of a Thursday or Friday afternoon for Iftar and food, it rarely lives up to my desire for it. Even at its sugary fried Ramadhan best, in the end it is simply some flour, sugar, and milk, or whatever the case may be. It is just food. I had reflected before about the extent to which I rely on food or drink throughout the day to motivate or reward myself. Now, it seems that food has lost some of its power, (though it will be interesting to see how all of this changes after Ramadhan). Additionally, food has ceased to be about nutrition; once I realized how little my body actually depended on food, I stopped thinking along the lines of protein/carbs/fats/vitamin requirements, and just focused on what I wanted to put in my neglected belly. For instance, though I have always had a sweet tooth, I had never craved sugar before as I do now. I do not know if this is result of sugar’s properties as a quick energy source, or simply the sugary delights available. All I know is that for me the best part is usually fruit, but now it is the sweets. On the other hand, mindless eating ,or eating for entertainment or boredom, is no longer appealing; I feel full too quickly. I’ll be curious to see what effect all this has had on my metabolism; although I have lost weight, my stomach bloats quickly…though not yet at the “starvation belly” stage, don’t worry, it has in a way made me understand not only the keen hunger of poverty, (this is one of the reasons for Ramadhan, empathy with the poor), it has made me understand other aspects of being poor to the point of extreme hunger. Or so I interpret: the anger at those eating when I am unable to, the easy exhaustion, the irritability, the quiet intensity of finally eating.
I will miss Ramadhan—especially the community aspect of it. This is part of why I love the World Cup, the Olympics, and cities: the sense of a shared experience with unknown individuals. In Ramadhan everyone complains together throughout the day, or naps together; the community slows down or moves with zombie deliberation. At sunset everyone breathes a sigh of relief together at Iftar, and the taste of the first date is incomparable. Each day I am amazed at how quickly and easily the feel of hunger or thirst falls away and everyone is restored to conversation and normal behavior. The night dissolves into grazing, socializing, TV. And the morning brings another sunrise and the food that lay waiting in the fridge becomes off-limits once again. The level of fluctuation within twenty-four hours is amazing. The prayer cycle also contributes to this, breaking up the day into distinct parts. I feel more productive somehow, with the passage of time marked by the muezzin’s call, even when doing nothing. No day is allowed to slip past, to “get away” without my realizing that it is passing. And each evening the day’s battle is celebrated.
Although it is easy to draw conclusions at the end of Ramadhan, or at least pretend to be rational about it, and it is particularly easier to do so at midnight on a full stomach, there were many moments when I felt completely miserable and any rational thought about the value of the whole process was long ago abandoned. Yet perhaps most interesting is that I never considered stopping. Though I wondered at times what possible meaning this could have for me as a nonMuslim, or other’s curiosities as to my motivation, (though I only ever heard praise for my fasting, I am sure that some people wondered why I would choose to do it), any fleeting thoughts of cheating or taking a break quickly fizzled out. I am not sure why, but I think it has to do with the nature of Ramadhan as a social experience.