September 13th marked the beginning of the holy month of Ramadan. For Muslims around the world, it heralds a period of fasting and contemplation, a time to reacquaint themselves with their beliefs.
For many, it’s difficult to understand the benefit of this self denial. But sometimes one needs to be deprived, in order to realise the true values. Ramadan is exactly that, a setup to put us back in control of our lives, as opposed to our routines and pleasures being in control of us. Ask anyone who has quit smoking how liberating the process was.
But right now, I don’t feel any of that. I am too occupied by the growling of my empty stomach.
The first week is always the toughest as your body adapts to the fasting. As soon as you wake up, you have to stop yourself from heading to the refrigerator. After living in the Netherlands for over a year, having to deny myself coffee is a tough struggle. By afternoon, my zombie like expression betrays my caffeine deficiency. I also have to skip the group lunch and ‘vlaai’ in the common room. And fasting makes the most mundane cafeteria food look like heavenly manna. As the days wear on, the body adjusts and you stop ambling about like the walking dead, and actually get some work done. But the quiet rumble of hunger remains omnipresent.
The first meal at the end of the day is always special. Traditionally, breaking of the fast is done with others, delicious snacks and water being shared amongst your close ones. Being a thousand miles away from home, I miss this the most - being with family, sharing meals, the festivities and celebrations all around you. ‘Breaking bread’ with others is a great way to get a sense of achievement and sharing your joy. In Eindhoven, friends have replaced family, and I get to share these moments with them. Ramadan gives you the perfect occasion to strengthen ties and immerse yourself in your community, no matter where you live.