Emily Majka on Ramadan and Iftar in Egypt

By: Emily Majka

October 1, 2006

Perhaps Islam in Egypt is no more apparent than in this holy month of Ramadan. From about 4:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. and from September 24 through October 23, all of Egypt will be centered upon iftar, the breaking of the fast at sundown. Fasting means no eating, drinking, sexual activity, and perhaps most painfully for Egyptians—no smoking. To fast is an integral part of Islam, one of its five pillars, along with the profession of faith, daily prayer five times a day, almsgiving, and a once in a lifetime pilgrimage to Mecca. And for the next 22 days Ramadan will govern everyone’'s lives in Egypt, faithful and nonbeliever alike.
In Cairo it is beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Mosques are decked out with long strands of colorful lights sweeping down from the top of mosque minarets to the streets below. Colorful lanterns glow in hallways and dangle from shop awnings. Garlands of silver flags adorn our cafeteria and everyone seems to be talking about what they're doing for Eid, the holiday marking the end of the fast (we have a five day break from school).

The holiday spirit is even more so apparent. The incessant wandering bands of Egyptian males as they walk by young, white females has stopped, a sudden display of piety in the holy month (hissing, the Egyptian version of cat-calling, much to my dismay, has not). Moreover, Ramadan is for many outsiders an invitation to experience a little bit of Islam. At the American University of Cairo for example, as back at home in Georgetown, non-believers are encouraged to participate in fast-a-thons or fasting contests to experience, at least for one day, a little bit of Ramadan. Iftar invitations are always offered to Westerners and anybody in a ten-block radius. Ramadan in Egypt is extremely open and welcoming to everyone.

Prayer is not, of course, unique to Ramadan, but it none the less comprises an important portion of the holiday. One would not think that prayer, like iftar, is a concept readily shared by Muslims with non-believers, but indeed learning the correct way to pray has been enthusiastically taught for those who want to learn. An American friend in Egypt told me that he found a Muslim man who wants to teach him how to pray, but that the Muslim first needs two weeks to check that he can translate the prayers correctly. Mosques in Egypt are closed to non-believers on Friday for noon prayers, when the entire Muslim community comes to the mosque to pray together; however, it seems that private tutoring in the home is easily accessible.

During Ramadan, the whole of Egypt seems to re-organize its schedule to accommodate iftar. At the American University of Cairo class times change, either moving earlier in the morning or later in the evening, to allow students and staff to be home in time for iftar with their families. For the first two weeks of Ramadan, Westerners struggle to find schwarma shacks and koshri nooks that are still open for business; many shop owners go back to their hometowns to share the holiday with their families. Indeed, on a trip back from the Sahara Desert yesterday, our bus driver suddenly pulled over in the middle of nowhere explaining to us that it was time for him and his wife to break the fast. For outsiders it is difficult to imagine a world where everything and everyone stops for dinner, but indeed it does.

This is not to say that Ramadan is a pleasant experience for those who fast. Our Bedouin tour guides this weekend could not eat nor drink while we cruised the Sahara Desert during record high temperatures of 104 degrees. And only more cruelly, they watched us chug three to four liters of water while they waited for sunset. Yet from most Muslims I've heard little complaining about the fast. My Bedouin guide told me that there is an exemption for travelers like himself, but he knew that if he did not fast now, he would never make up those days later. It is really from my American friends that I have come to understand the pains of Ramadan. They are the ones who moan about the lack of caffeine, unquenchable thirst, or constant fatigue that accompanies the fast. They are the ones who call me horrible when they see me drinking water during the day. However, Muslim fasters are largely stoic, and sometimes it becomes so easy to forget that they are hungry too. For non-believers the Ramadan experience is a curiosity, a wonderful glittering holiday that gives them a strenuous daily goal: to not eat until sunset. For Muslims, it is also about celebration and trial; yet, they quietly take the challenge with a deep spiritual hope and tireless self mastery.
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