Once again, I’m spending another 4th of July outside of the U.S. While the 4th of July is always a fun holiday to celebrate stateside (I mean, who can resist fireworks, micro brews, sparklers, campfires, red, white and blue popsicles, parades where children wave batons and flags in the air, grilling – and the obviously related overeating that comes with it…), being outside the U.S. on a day that becomes an ordinary day to everyone else around you means you lose the shared experience that the 4th of July has come to embody.
This year, however, I’m lucky enough to spend the 4th of July in Afghanistan, during Ramadan (or Ramazan as it’s called here). As it would be, Ramadan also comes to mark our (nearly) one year mark in Afghanistan. In the Islamic faith, Ramadan is a holy month of fasting, prayer and reflection that commemorates the first revelation of the Quran to Mohammad. Fasting is one of the five pillars of Islam. For the entire month, Muslim teens and adults do not eat or drink (even water) from sunrise to sunset (children, pregnant women, sick individuals and travelers are typically exempt from fasting). This year, Ramadan falls during the summer months – when temperatures in Afghanistan can soar to 120 degrees Fahrenheit, depending on what part of the country you live in. We’re lucky enough to live in the mountains so it doesn’t usually get past 85, but still warm enough to crave water. Each year, the month of Ramadan moves back approximately 11 days in line with the lunar calendar. However, when it falls during the summer months, the days are long and grueling – an even bigger challenge to the mind, body, and spirit.
While our work days are cut down to 6 official hours during Ramadan, it is obvious that even during the shortened work day, many Afghan colleagues develop “Ramazan brain.” Attention spans get spacey, details get lost, and there are often cries of hunger, thirst, and tiredness. I get it completely. When Ramadan falls during summer, people are up at 2 AM to eat before day breaks. Last year at this time, our guest house was still being built and we spent Ramadan in shared rooms sleeping on toshaks (floor pillows) and waking up at 2 AM to have a first meal together.
Then fasting happens from about 2:30 or 3 AM until 7:30 PM – when the sun finally dips below the horizon. 17 hours is a long time to go without food and (especially) water, particularly this time of year. Breaking your sleep cycle in the middle of the night to wake in order to eat and pray for one month is also draining (as I’m sure most new parents can also attest to). Ramadan is also a time to abstain from evils such as gossiping, lying, fighting, smoking and having sexual relations with one’s spouse.
Despite the intense days (and nights), I’ve learned that Ramadan is an extremely special month. While this time of year in the U.S. we get one or two days to celebrate together (and for a different reason of course), Ramadan is celebrated all month. Each night, “iftar,” or the breaking of the fast, is celebrated as a family or in a large group. We’ve been lucky enough to celebrate a few iftars together already this month with colleagues.
As the last semicircle of sun turns the sky orange as it dips below the blackened mountains, the family or group gathers and a three dates are eaten and washed down with a large glass of water. This is how iftar begins. And then a veritable feast ensues! Bread (naan) is broken, large plates of rice pilaf are served with chunks of chicken and mutten in tomato sauce. Fresh yogurt and pickled vegetables, salad and fresh fruit (bananas, watermelon, apples, peaches, and apricots) are all laid forth. Everyone eats with gusto and many jokes are shared. As people finish their meal, they drift off to pray and come back to relax a bit more before deciding to head to bed early so they can wake again at 2 AM.
While I’m not Muslim, I find it very endearing to be included in iftar celebrations. There is something extremely special about the ritual – everyone swallowing 3 dates and glass of water together and then rejoicing at finally being able to eat and drink for a few short hours. There may not be any parades, sparklers, cold beers, or outright debauchery involved (though the overeating part still remains!), but I’m happy to be able to reflect on and share a prolonged month of blessings with my Afghan colleagues. In fact, I’m also happy that we’re celebrating another year of Ramadan together (though this time in our own house and not on toshaks!). And to all my friends and family in the U.S. – Happy 4th of July!
Juxtaposed Living 