For the next few weeks, your Muslim friends, colleagues, and neighbours will be waking up bleary-eyed at sunrise to eat their last meal before observing a fast until dusk.
Ramadan, the Islamic holy month, began nearly two weeks ago, on April 2. Every year, Muslims around the world undergo a test of patience from dawn to dusk to awaken a deeper sense of spirituality. Ramadan is a time of intense religious and personal reflection and charitable acts. It is not just about abstaining from food and drink as many believe, but it entails increased prayer, charity, kindness, and creating better habits.
Abstaining from food is not some kind of cruel form of penance, instead, it is supposed to help us empathise with those who face starvation every day, making us more grateful for what we have.
While Ramadan is a month brimming with celebration and festivity, fasting in a non-Muslim country comes with added challenges.
Away from their families, separated from their culture, many Muslims living abroad find Ramadan to be a distinctly lonely time. Missing out, not just on traditional delicacies, but also on the comfort offered by breaking fast with loved ones can make this month of blessings significantly more difficult. Seeing the table in your family home laden with dates, fruit salad, and spring rolls is like euphoria to a hungry faster. Sitting down to a scarce iftar in a lonely apartment can be a depressing affair.
During Ramadan in Ireland, normal life still goes on. Muslims still have to go to work, study for their exams, complete their daily tasks etc. In many Muslim countries, school and office hours are shortened to accommodate those who are fasting. Moreover, restaurants and cafes are all closed for dining in to ease the challenges of fasting. It is the collective understanding of the customs of Ramadan that ease those fasting into a month of serenity.
In the West, routine life is still very much the same. You must function at your usual level of productivity with a foggy head and rumbling stomach, with the added burden of explaining why you are intentionally starving yourself to your colleagues.
Sometimes, hearing the question, “not even water?”, accompanied with an expression of utter horror still gives me a good laugh. The Irish are quick to sympathise with us, not realising that we are not punishing ourselves; we fast out of a willingness to strengthen our faith.
Thankfully, Galway has a supportive Muslim community who regularly hold nightly prayers and frequent iftar dinners in Ramadan. This sense of solidarity relieves the burden of a lonely fast observed away from the comforts of home.
Despite the hardships we face, Muslims living in Ireland still come together to celebrate this special month, collectively braving through the lengthy fasts. Thankfully, we can still find our beloved medjool dates to break our fast with in Aldi, although they might not taste quite the same as the ones back home.
