March 23 was the first day of Ramadan, a sacred month that Muslims worldwide observe by fasting and doing good deeds. It’s also the month in which we commemorate the revelation of the Holy Quran.
For as long as I can remember, Ramadan was (and still is) the most welcomed month in my family, if not in every Muslim household. Usually, the entire focus or curiosity about Ramadan revolves around not being able to eat or drink water from dawn to sunset. However, most people overlook another important aspect of Ramadan: the social life during Ramadan.
Since the Muslim population worldwide is very diverse, each group has its own traditions when it comes to celebrating the beginning of Ramadan and the entire month in general.
From exchanging dishes with their neighbors to staying up late at night to pray, Ramadan for Muslims is much more than just abstaining from eating and drinking. Besides being a religious month, Ramadan is certainly a social month. Unlike all other months, during Ramadan, Muslims spend more time with each other (I’m speaking from experience here), either by inviting those they know to Iftar or by regularly going to the mosque or religious lectures. All mosques are full to the brim from the first to the last day of this holy month, so naturally, you end up meeting different people every day, and you might end up creating long-lasting friendships with them.
The sense of community during Ramadan is palpable and visible. The rich help the poor, the poor help those who are poorer and so on. This is one of the reasons why Muslims donate more money in Ramadan than in any other month because “it’s the month of Ramadan!” Feeding the poor is among the greatest things one can do this month, so even the owners of tiny restaurants donate free meals. Everyone wants to do as many good deeds as possible because no one knows whether they will remain alive until the next Ramadan. Hence, to start the month with a new, clean page, people start reconciling and forgiving each other, resuming long-paused relationships.
Exchanging dishes is a well-known and respected tradition in the Middle East and in some other Muslim countries. It’s, in fact, one of my favorite Ramadan traditions because there is always something beautiful about it.
I remember how eagerly I looked forward to the few minutes before Iftar as a child because it was when we exchanged dishes with our neighbors. And since I was, of all my siblings, the delegate chosen for this mission (my fellow delegates were always children), I enjoyed going to the neighboring houses and exchanging dishes. As predicted, I would be the first one to see what was in the new dishes, and I liked being given that privilege (that is if you think of it from a child’s point of view). But of course, sometimes, I wished to retire from this delegation, especially on the days I was very tired. On those days, I would be happy to let someone else assume this position until the next day. If this indicates anything, it surely shows that I was by no means a dictator or authoritarian who clung to positions!
I was six years old when I fasted for the first time in my life. Being that young, I didn’t understand the religious significance of fasting, nor why people were nicer in Ramadan than they were all year round. But I wanted to fast that day for one big reason (in fact, a silly reason): I didn’t want to be deemed a child. Like every child in the world, I didn’t want to be treated as such, and not fasting while everyone in my family did made this feeling very palpable. Hence, there was only one solution to this dilemma: Fast like an adult. And fast I surely did. Since it was in the summer and we fasted for approximately more than 15 hours, I was nearly dead by the time of sunset, or so I thought. Obviously, I didn’t die that day! How I was able to last after 15 hours without drinking water was a wonderment to me, and I marveled at my endurance and determination. Needless to say, that wonderment ceased as I grew older because I realized people wouldn’t die if they didn’t drink water for a few hours.
Finally, let’s appreciate all mothers who spend so much time preparing Iftar for their families and making this month special. One must really sympathize with whoever is in charge of washing the dishes after Iftar and that’s all I can say about this hard job! Although sympathies won’t decrease the number of dishes, they will, at least, alleviate the stress this duty induces.
Amina Hasan is a freshman at the University of Minnesota-Twin Cities.
