Repost: A Muslim's Passover

I came across this article today, and found it interesting enough to share:

A Muslim's Passover
Mohammad Ali Salih

WASHINGTON, DC: Except for a casual mention of Israeli settlements in occupied Palestinian lands and the tensions they recently caused in US-Israeli relations, my Passover Seder last week was very spiritual –another adventure for this Muslim.
After 9/11, as some Americans started to learn more about Islam, I embarked on a journey to learn about Christianity and Judaism.
When I came to America several years ago at the age of 31 years, I didn’t know any Jews. Even now, I don’t know one well. And until this Passover my attitude towards Jews was clouded by Israel’s expansionist policy in the Middle East.
A black man, with a foreign accent, a Muslim name and Arabic my native tongue, I was a little nervous when I attended Passover celebrations at Adat Reyim Synagogue near where I live in Burke, Virginia.
Read the rest here.

Reflection: Ramadan in Cairo

The first day of Ramadan dawned in pink and blue shades over the Mother of the World. The lights of the city still glittered, their reflections rippling in the Nile, and a few clouds hovered above Cairo’s usual blanket of fog. As the clock ticked toward 5am, I watched the sun rise. A few moments before I had heard the call from the mosque behind my building, signaling the start of the fast.

Ramadan is a holy month for Muslims – a month of fasting and prayer, where each kind or generous deed is worth 100. During Ramadan Muslims fast from sunrise to sunset – or approximately from 4:30am until 6:00pm. The fast is complete: Muslims may consume nothing. No food, no water, not even chewing gum – nothing is allowed (there are, of course, exceptions: children, people who are traveling or sick and require medicine, and menstruating women are forbidden from fasting). Ramadan is a month of reflection and prayer. The phrase ‘Ramadan Kareem,’ which literally means ‘generous Ramadan,’ is heard and written everywhere. I have been told that Cairo is the best place to experience Ramadan – having experienced it, I am inclined to agree.

A few minutes before 6:00 in the evening I went out and walked the streets of Zamalek, the district where I live in Cairo. The streets were nearly bereft of cars, a novelty in such a crowded and bustling city, and just as lacking in the usual throngs of people moving about. The exceptions, for the most part, were clearly foreigners.

Yet the Egyptian people were not entirely absent from the streets of Cairo; they were simply absent in the normal sense. Instead of walking the streets and moving from place to place, they were all nearly motionless, seated (mostly silently) at one of the many long tables that crowded much of the available space on sidewalks and in alleyways. During Ramadan, Egypt’s poor eat better than they do at any other time of the year. It is impossible to go hungry. Food is provided every evening at Iftar, the breaking of the fast, by charity, various wealthy individuals, and mosques. Anyone, I have been told, is welcome to sit and join in the breaking of the fast.

As the moment of Iftar arrived, the mosques could be heard in the distance and there was a sudden commotion as the Muslim people of Cairo broke their fast. Walking along the street, I was invited to join at least three different groups of people in their meals – although I declined the offers, I did accept a cup of dark, sweet juice, and thus broke my fast along with the rest of the city.

For the first two weeks of Ramadan I fasted with my Muslim friends and acquaintances. As the majority of the people I spent time with, including my roommate, were fasting, I decided to join them. Besides, if I was going to experience Ramadan in Cairo, I decided I might as well (to be honest, not eating all day is not difficult – the difficulty of the fast arises with not being able to drink, especially under Cairo’s heat). I finally broke my fast about a week into the semester, deciding that curiosity was not a good enough reason to fast when I had upwards of 7 hours of class in a day.

There were many nights during Ramadan, both in Cairo and in Alexandria, that I spent out with friends. One of my first Iftars was at Luceille's, a favorite Italian restaurant in the Maadi district of Cairo. After the first few weeks, my roommate and I tended to break fast together while watching a succession of That 70s Show, Friends, and E.R. They were lazy evenings, often followed a few hours later by going out and having another meal.

Cairo, as a whole, does not sleep during the month of Ramadan (except during the day). The common routine is to have Iftar at 6, then a few hours later go out and then have dinner, and then have the final meal, Sohour, around 2 or 3 in the morning.

I was invited to various dinners, including a huge Iftar at my roommate's boyfriend's house with homemade Egyptian foods and sohour at a Palestinian restaurant in Nasr City. Near the end of Ramadan, my roommate and I hosted a large Iftar at our apartment, complete with homemade pasta, bread, caramel apple pie, and cookies (and KFC - neither my roommate nor I cook much meat).

The University hosted various Iftar dinners and an Egyptian Sohour for the International Students during Ramadan. These dinners served 'traditional' fare from different areas of the Muslim world, finally ending with Egyptian.

Finally, Ramadan ended just before October began, and the students of the American University in Cairo departed from the city to their various destinations for the Eid break. That, however, is a topic for another day.

Jordan: Observations in Conclusion

A hazy sheen lingered between the sun and the freshly washed window of the taxi. The sun rose into the mist and dust, creating a blurry outline as trees and highway rushed past. It seemed odd to be saying good-bye to a country as the sun was rising.

The King’s Highway once again stretched before us, once again sparsely populated. Seemingly the only creatures moving at 6:00am were dogs, picking through the trash by the road in a small, motley pack. The taxi driver was silent, a rare occurrence in the world of talkative Arabs.

Jordan’s movement toward development can be seen in the buildings as we head out of Amman. Japanese civil engineers may not be able to straighten all of the city’s winding roads or disjointed intersections, but Amman is a city to be reckoned with. Its streets are wide and the city is clean in comparison with capitals such as Cairo and even Rome. The amount of construction in the city is impressive, especially in comparison with other third-world countries where unfinished buildings often seem to be more common than on-going construction. Current construction includes what will eventually be the largest mall in Jordan.

Jordanian patriotism is also something to be reckoned with. Driving through Amman, ever overpass is lined with a row of Jordanian flags waving in the breeze. Passing through narrow roads in the countryside, twisting roads in the cities, or the flat, smooth road of the King’s Highway, posters and billboards with pictures of the King are far from unusual. To surround such pictures with more Jordanian flags seems to be quite common. Jordanians hold their King in high affection, and that affection must be contagious – even foreign residents feel a sense of Jordanian patriotism. Everyone, according to my Iraqi host, has at least one CD of traditional Jordanian music in their car.

It is easy to understand why so many foreigners, both Arab and non-Arab, choose to make Amman their home. According to some, Jordan is seen as the most stable country in the region – which can certainly be understood when taking the current turbulence in areas such as Iraq and Lebanon into consideration. However, there are clearly reasons beyond that. Jordanians are open, friendly people. They are quick to smile and generous with hospitality – traits that seem to permeate the Middle East. Amman can be noisy and crowded, but its crowds and noise are of a lesser intensity than that of, for example, Cairo, and the pollution is certainly less.

Beyond the obvious differences in the city itself, there are other clear differences between Amman and Cairo. One of these is the style of dress. In Amman, the percentage of young women who have adopted a more Western style of dress seems to be much higher than in Cairo. While in Cairo young women have found ingenious ways to be highly fashionably and still subscribe to the traditional Muslim modesty, Amman’s younger generation seems, at least at first glance, to be moving in a different direction.

As the Jordanian countryside flashes outside my window at 80 km/h in the glow of the rising sun, I know I will be back.