Fasting In A Foreign Land
By Saba Abid
"Want to grab some lunch?”“ Catherine asks as I try to leave the lecture hall discreetly, trying to control the rumbling in my stomach. I tell her I’m fasting. She lets out a surprised ‘oh!’ and then a confused expression replaces the previous one as she asks me innocently “But why?” I explain to her that abstaining from eating and drinking from dawn to dusk in the month of Ramazan is considered holy. Looking at me with great sympathy she says enthusiastically “Oh, I hope it goes well! When Ramazan finishes we’ll go out and celebrate over a few drinks!” I quietly agree and decide to leave that explanation for another day.
This was the first time I had tried to explain the concept of fasting to a non-Muslim and the response I received greatly amused me and none of the subsequent reactions differed from the first. They would immediately regard me as very devout and some of them even termed me as “brave” for undertaking such a task in the name of religion.
The advent of Ramazan is very apparent amongst the Muslim families in Britain. Trips to South Hall become more frequent as mothers coax their children into buying eastern clothes for Eid. Henna and bangles flood the ‘desi’ areas of London. Sehri and Iftari schedules occupy each refrigerator. People rush home in order to make it in time for Iftar. Muslims unite at local mosques and Tarawihs are held just like in any neighbourhood in Pakistan. The enthusiasm with which Iftaris are prepared and Eid is looked forward to is, if anything, even greater than it is back home.
In fact, the entire month of Ramazan is celebrated with more enthusiasm amongst the ex-patriot community as they consciously try to create an atmosphere which is not naturally present. Thus more attention is paid to detail and more effort goes into the preparations. The Iftaris are more elaborate, the Eid clothes gaudier and the parties grander!
But to us, the Pakistanis in British universities, who are suddenly facing Ramazan without the support of our families -– a loving mother to drag us out of bed and present a fully cooked Sehri or an insistent father expecting us to accompany him to the mosque –– fasting suddenly looks quite grim. After I switch the recurrent alarm off for the fifth time, I wake up with a jolt only to realise that the time for Sehri has long gone. The urge to get back into bed is overbearingly strong, but alas the day must begin.
Rushing to the lecture halls to make it in time, I can’t help but envy those holding coffee cups and muffins. I curse myself for inflicting this upon myself and vow to wake up for Sehri next day. That plan obviously never materialises. As the day drags on, my stomach’s grumbling and complaining becomes louder and more frequent. But there is one consolation; fasting in this cool weather is much easier than the blinding sun, stifling classrooms and dry heat one has to endure back home. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself.
As the sun finally sets, all the Pakistani students gather together to go to the mosque where Maghrib is prayed in congregation and finally Iftaar is served. The mosques in universities receive donations from various Islamic organisations and local Muslims. These funds are used to provide every person in the mosque a free Iftari consisting of chaat, pakoras, sherbet and of course biryani!
The contents of the menu may give the false impression that the Islamic societies there are mostly dominated by Pakistanis. Arabs, Malaysians, Indians and Indonesians play a large and important role in the running of these societies. Surprisingly, they all unanimously agree that Pakistani Iftar is the most appetising and enticing. Though it is not uncommon to spot a few people here and there mumbling, “Spicy! Spicy!” while trying to wipe their watering eyes and running noses.
These gatherings encourage interaction between Muslims from different countries and offer an excellent opportunity to make new friends. It is at this point that we forget, at least for one hour, how we are miles away from home and celebrate Ramazan just like we used to back in Pakistan!