Book excerpt from My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality by Rachel Hajar
Chapter 15
Ramadan: A Special Month
There is one month in the Islamic calendar that I grew to cherish. That month is called Ramadan, the holy month of fasting. During the entire month of Ramadan, Muslims are religiously forbidden to eat, drink, and engage in marital intimacy from dawn until sunset. Ramadan is a month full of rituals. I found the practices and activities associated with it spiritually inspiring. I have come to value and treasure the month of Ramadan.
I knew nothing about the Islamic fast before coming to Qatar and my first Ramadan in Qatar was in the summer. I had been slightly disappointed that the name of the month—Ramadan—had nothing to do with the particular time of year that it occurred. I had romantically linked the month of Ramadan with the scorching heat of a desert summer. Ramadan moved, like Easter in the Christian calendar.
Since that first Ramadan in summer, I have spent all subsequent Ramadans in Qatar, the sequence of its arrival looping cyclically backwards, like a clock moving in counterclockwise direction because it came eleven days earlier each year in relation to the Gregorian calendar. The perceived effect, at least for me, was of time slowing down, as if one billion Muslims fasting reined in a world fast hurtling forwards.
Adhan al-maghreb, the call to prayer at dusk, announced iftar, which was broken by eating dates in imitation of the Prophet Muhammad. I too, found that eating dates was the best way to break fast—it delivered instant calories. Iftar could be one big meal or broken into a light meal [taken before prayer] and main meal [eaten after prayer].
Ramadan was a time of intense prayer. After iftar, people went to the mosque to pray, usually from 7:30 to 8:30 p.m., or longer, before setting off to socialize. Women prayed in a partitioned section of the mosque, separated from the men. Each night during Ramadan, special prayer services and Qur’an readings were held in some local mosques. Qur’an readings from the holy city of Mecca were televised. Once, my family was amazed to see me watching and listening to those televised readings. I loved listening to Qur’an readings. I found the rhythm and cadence soothing and touching. Even though I did not understand Arabic, I found that the classical Arabic of the Qur’an when read by a good reader with a good voice was beautiful, for the Qur’an has rhythmic and poetic sounds.
In late afternoons, usually about an hour before iftar, I usually found myself sitting in my study, musing and reading by the window while quietly enjoying my view of blue sky and admiring my plants and flowers in the veranda. In the late afternoon breeze, the slender branches of jasmine and hibiscus swayed gracefully while the azaleas and violets fluttered tremulously. Outside, the date-palm leaves rustled. The world was quiet. Those moments, those minutes before iftar at almost sunset time, with the light mellow, birds flying and twittering past, and shadows starting to form, were beautiful.
As any Muslim will tell you, fasting is hard. I know. Yet Muslims also regret the passing of the special month of Ramadan. Until you deny yourself water, food, and other worldly pleasures from dawn to dusk, for a whole month, you cannot appreciate the ordeal. Ramadan is a challenge that tests willpower and depletes energy but it also affirms the strength and character of the individual and his place in the community. There is a certain satisfaction in being able to deny yourself food and drink and an excitement in anticipating iftar.
Once the fast is broken, food tastes so good, and water so sweet.
Rachel Hajar, M.D.
Ramadan: A Special Month
There is one month in the Islamic calendar that I grew to cherish. That month is called Ramadan, the holy month of fasting. During the entire month of Ramadan, Muslims are religiously forbidden to eat, drink, and engage in marital intimacy from dawn until sunset. Ramadan is a month full of rituals. I found the practices and activities associated with it spiritually inspiring. I have come to value and treasure the month of Ramadan.
I knew nothing about the Islamic fast before coming to Qatar and my first Ramadan in Qatar was in the summer. I had been slightly disappointed that the name of the month—Ramadan—had nothing to do with the particular time of year that it occurred. I had romantically linked the month of Ramadan with the scorching heat of a desert summer. Ramadan moved, like Easter in the Christian calendar.
Since that first Ramadan in summer, I have spent all subsequent Ramadans in Qatar, the sequence of its arrival looping cyclically backwards, like a clock moving in counterclockwise direction because it came eleven days earlier each year in relation to the Gregorian calendar. The perceived effect, at least for me, was of time slowing down, as if one billion Muslims fasting reined in a world fast hurtling forwards.
Adhan al-maghreb, the call to prayer at dusk, announced iftar, which was broken by eating dates in imitation of the Prophet Muhammad. I too, found that eating dates was the best way to break fast—it delivered instant calories. Iftar could be one big meal or broken into a light meal [taken before prayer] and main meal [eaten after prayer].
Ramadan was a time of intense prayer. After iftar, people went to the mosque to pray, usually from 7:30 to 8:30 p.m., or longer, before setting off to socialize. Women prayed in a partitioned section of the mosque, separated from the men. Each night during Ramadan, special prayer services and Qur’an readings were held in some local mosques. Qur’an readings from the holy city of Mecca were televised. Once, my family was amazed to see me watching and listening to those televised readings. I loved listening to Qur’an readings. I found the rhythm and cadence soothing and touching. Even though I did not understand Arabic, I found that the classical Arabic of the Qur’an when read by a good reader with a good voice was beautiful, for the Qur’an has rhythmic and poetic sounds.
In late afternoons, usually about an hour before iftar, I usually found myself sitting in my study, musing and reading by the window while quietly enjoying my view of blue sky and admiring my plants and flowers in the veranda. In the late afternoon breeze, the slender branches of jasmine and hibiscus swayed gracefully while the azaleas and violets fluttered tremulously. Outside, the date-palm leaves rustled. The world was quiet. Those moments, those minutes before iftar at almost sunset time, with the light mellow, birds flying and twittering past, and shadows starting to form, were beautiful.
As any Muslim will tell you, fasting is hard. I know. Yet Muslims also regret the passing of the special month of Ramadan. Until you deny yourself water, food, and other worldly pleasures from dawn to dusk, for a whole month, you cannot appreciate the ordeal. Ramadan is a challenge that tests willpower and depletes energy but it also affirms the strength and character of the individual and his place in the community. There is a certain satisfaction in being able to deny yourself food and drink and an excitement in anticipating iftar.
Once the fast is broken, food tastes so good, and water so sweet.
Rachel Hajar, M.D.
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