Saturday, May 27, 2017
I suppose this isn't the most appropriate image one might choose to celebrate a month of fasting and sacrifice, but - can anybody with two eyes blame me?
Yes, Ramadan is once again upon us, and so it's another round of late dinners and a slightly grumpy husband for me. It remains odd to celebrate the holy month here in the U.S. of A., where it's so very much not a part of daily life; one gets used to the rhythms of the month living out in the Gulf, where the days are long and sleepy and the nights full of feasting and going out. And that's not a patch on Cairo, where Ramadan is genuinely one of the most marvelous times of the year, with the whole city ablaze with traditional lanterns and shared fast-breaking tables, provided by charities and charitable souls, filling the streets.
But we'll soldier through. I don't fast, although I'm careful not eat in front of Himself. I don't even teetotal, totally, although it's never a bad idea to use the month for a little discreet slimming (unlike many who do fast, but still end up gaining a good deal of weight - those long evening meals are not light, and neither are the endless snacks that fill the hours 'til dawn).
Now if only we could find a place to break our fast that featured waiters on the order of Abdul up there...