A Ramadan Unlike Any Other

While I was trekking through Turkey during the month of August, Egyptians were busy fasting during the day and partying at night during the Muslim holy month of Ramadan.

I managed to return just in time for the end of Ramadan. Daily life in Egypt between the hours of 9 AM and 4 PM during Ramadan is surprisingly normal. People go to work, the streets are full of cars (and the accompanying noise is just as annoying as ever), and you would never know that they are doing all of that without any food or water! As several friends explained it to me, you make it through Ramadan for three reasons: (1) Over the course of the 28 day fast, your body adjusts to eating large meals at night and nothing during the day, (2) Everyone else is doing it, so there is a feeling of companionship and brotherhood with your fellow fasters, and (3) you have a giant party to look forward to once the sun sets!

Unfortunately we non-Egyptian city dwellers did not have as much access to the party scene as we would have liked. The real parties, as I was repeatedly told, happen in the countryside where families gather together for huge feasts every night with their neighbors and the music blares deep into the night. While that description might include a little bit of embellishment courtesy of my Egyptian friends who were wishing that they could have been celebrating at home, I don’t think it is too far from the truth…

Celebrating iftar, the sundown break-the-fast meal, was still pretty fun in the city. Every restaurant is packed with families, and the glum, tired faces brighten the second after everyone hears the muezzin’s call signifying that the sun has set. After dinner, people pour out into the streets to socialize and shop, and many of them stay there until the wee hours of the morning.

None of those observations about Ramadan, however, represent anything out of the ordinary. Indeed, the reason why I refer to this past Ramadan a Ramadan unlike any other has nothing to do with the normal traditions. Instead, this was the first Ramadan in the post-Mubarak Egypt. No longer did the newspapers carry headline pictures of Mubarak and his wife praying together at his favorite mosque on the outskirts of Cairo. Furthermore, the celebratory Ramadan banners hung between houses in narrow alleyways and on traffic roundabouts now carried the names of a variety of political parties. Prominent among them were the Salafi “Hizb al-Nur” (“Party of Light”), representing the hardline Islamists and the Muslim Brotherhood’s “Hizb al-Huriya wa al-Adala” (Party of Freedom and Justice). Seeing banners openly promoting the Muslim Brotherhood or the Salafis’ political wings would have been unthinkable a year ago.

After Ramadan ends, Muslims celebrate Eid al-Fitr, a three-day long celebration that includes gift-giving and, of course, more feasting. The first day of Eid begins with morning prayers at 6:00 AM. Mosques throughout the country overflow, and the attendees who can’t find space inside spill out into the streets and listen to the imam’s sermon on mats under large canopies.

I spent Eid with an Egyptian friend in Alexandria. While I was unable to drag myself out of bed at that early hour to attend prayers, my friend returned later that morning with a full report. After opening his front door and stepping onto the adjacent main street, he was confronted with two choices: to his left were canopies filled with Salafis, and to his right were canopies filled with supporters of the Muslim Brotherhood. Members of both groups were milling around in the crowds distributing party literature and membership information.

“So which side did you pray on?” I asked him.
“The Muslim Brotherhood,” he replied and added with a laugh, “I didn’t have a choice! They’re crazy, but not as crazy as the Salafis!”

The debate between the religious and the secular parties is really heating up here. I’ll have some more posts on this topic in the coming weeks.