For five months now i have been preparing and being warned about Ramadan!!!! According to all the other teachers I worked with last year, Ramadan is a very traumatic time for the internationals here.
For those of you not familiar with Ramadan:
It is the Islamic month of fasting, in which participating Muslims refrain from eating, drinking, sexual conduct, smoking, and indulging in anything that is in excess or ill-natured; from dawn until sunset [1] Fasting is meant to teach the Muslim patience, modesty and spirituality. Ramaḍān is a time to fast for the sake of Allah, and to offer more prayer than usual. Muslims also believed through good actions, they get rewarded seventy times as much as they normally can achieve. During Ramaḍān, Muslims ask forgiveness for past sins, pray for guidance and help in refraining from everyday evils, and try to purify themselves through self-restraint and good deeds.
My first experience with Ramadan was in Indonesia in 1998. I arrived in Java about half way through the month and was completely overwhelmed by it. I had never even heard of Ramadan until then and didn't know what was going on. All i knew was the people were very cranky but I wasn't actually sure why. And then I went to the next island over, Bali and it couldn't have been more opposite. and I figured out why, that the people on Java were just hungry but the Balinese were eating all day long and more cheerful. My theory was proven when I went back to Java three weeks later and the general personality had changed dramatically.
Last year i was assured that the bad mood of the people truely defeated the spiritual purpose of Ramadan. Which assume is much like how at Christmas time at home I get stressed out and start counting my pennies more since i need to spend more even though i know i should be focusing on many other things like giving and family time.
I have also been warned that this Ramadan is one of the hardest ones because this year it is taking place at the end of the summer. The actual date of when Ramadan starts is based on the Islamic calendar and the sightings of the moon. Last year it was further into the fall. Back in 1998 it was in February.
School was suppose to have started over a week ago but the ministry of education keeps pushing the start of school back trying to help make it easier with Ramadan. Even the children fast here starting around 2nd or 3rd grade. The have pushed the beginning of school back to the first of September. There are rumors that it might be pushed all the way back to the end of Ramadan because of a fear of Swine flu. I think the Palestinian ministry of education was a bit thrown off when at the beginning of summer the surrounding Arab countries announced that the school year wouldn't start until the end of Ramadan.
The major issue this year isn't food, but during Ramadan you don't drink. We live in the desert and it is hot... I don't know how the kids are going to do it not even drinking during the day. Which is why the school day starts late and ends early.
People get up around 4:30 am to eat and pray for the day and then go back to sleep until around 7:45 or 8. School starts at 8:30 and gets out at 1:30. Everyone goes home to take a nap until around 6:30 when the drummer comes to tell them to eat.
As internationals no one expects us to fast. We are encouraged to but are pushed to fast. (teased a little, but that's to be expected) However culturally it would be very disrespectful for us to eat or drink in front of anyone. The school kitchen is tucked away and we have been informed that if we want to eat or drink anything to go there and close the door.
I have also been told that the first two weeks are the hardest and don't expect anyone to be thinking straight or functioning well.
I have heard rumors about a guy who goes around with a drum in the morning to wake people up for prayer and early breakfast and then comes around at the end of the day to remind them to eat.
I am sure i will have a lot more to tell everyone as it gets under way. I am trying to prepare, but I am not sure what i should do to prepare for it.
I know all of the sharwma stands will be closed but i was told the little shops should be open. Hopefully I won't have a problem finding my water and coke zero even if I have to hide to drink it.
Showing posts with label nablus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nablus. Show all posts
Friday, August 21, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
It was an accident..
At long last finally we got our washing machine fix today. Samir, the academic supervisor's husband and my student's father picked me up early from school today to go and pick up the repair guy so that I could bring them all home, let them in and supervise the whole thing. On the way home I was making small talk with Samir, who speaks English quite well from living in Chicago for ten years. I was asking him about the furniture in my apartment and where it came from. Since the day I moved in i was amused that it is identical to my furniture in China. I was asking if it was made in China or Nablus. He told me that it was made in Nablus, in fact it was made in his family's furniture factory in the center of the old town. Which lead in to a long story about the death of his brother.
Samir was different than his brother because he was serious about school and figured out a way to go to Medical School, move to America and become a doctor there. His brother was a much simpler man. He barely finished high school and went into the family furniture making business, worked hard at what he did and stayed out of trouble. He was forty years old in 2003, married and the father of three children. 2003 was the time of the three month curfew.
Everyone here as told me about their experiences during this time. Everyone was forced to stay in their homes for 10 days at a time. If you were to dare to step foot outside your house, you were shot. If you even looked out your window you were shot. Every 10 days the curfew was called off for 3 hours so that people could shop. Matters were made even worse because, here a two story house doesn't have an interior staircase. If you want to go up stairs in the same house, you first go outside and then up. So for those three months people couldn't get up or downstairs in their own homes. Everyone was confined to one floor and in the center room of the house, trying to avoid all windows or openings to the outside.
The day the curfew was called off for good that year, Samir's brother went to his factory to check on things. Hiding in the factory was a soldier who didn't realize the curfew was called off. He shot Samir's brother dead with one bullet.
Samir was quite clear that this was an accident. And seemed so matter of fact about it. He decided then and there to move his family back to Palestine from Chicago to full fill his family responsibility. He needed to be the uncle, brother-in-law, son to everyone who had lost. Except to express my sincere sympathy, what does one say?
Samir's children are all American citizens and can't wait for the day that they can return to the life they left and lost.
Again and again I hear stories like this. Some people are full of pain and grief when they tell me. Others have moved on.
I have met several families who were living overseas when the father's felt the incredible tug to move their families back to Palestine and do their duty to the ones left here. So far it, it is their children and adult children that I have met who all struggle with the decision to move back here. Some of them have come to peace with it and are trying to figure out how they can move back overseas but still try to take care of their elders and maintain a good Muslim Palestinian values where ever they go.
It is such a contrast to me from the people I am used to being around. Latino's move to other countries out of loyalty to their family to send money home for the people at home to survive. Filipinos do the same. In Korea I worked with a migrant workers community center and met people from all over the world who didn't like Korea at all but needed to be their for their families.
In Palestine, the people here feel like they need to hold their ground. If everyone seeks a better life in another country, there won't be anyone left to make claim to the country of Palestine and it will be swallowed up whole by their neighbors. Not only do the people who return feel like need to take care of their elders but also to respect the thousands of years of ancestors who lived here in Nablus not to mention their own future generations.
It is a lot to think about and ponder.
Samir was different than his brother because he was serious about school and figured out a way to go to Medical School, move to America and become a doctor there. His brother was a much simpler man. He barely finished high school and went into the family furniture making business, worked hard at what he did and stayed out of trouble. He was forty years old in 2003, married and the father of three children. 2003 was the time of the three month curfew.
Everyone here as told me about their experiences during this time. Everyone was forced to stay in their homes for 10 days at a time. If you were to dare to step foot outside your house, you were shot. If you even looked out your window you were shot. Every 10 days the curfew was called off for 3 hours so that people could shop. Matters were made even worse because, here a two story house doesn't have an interior staircase. If you want to go up stairs in the same house, you first go outside and then up. So for those three months people couldn't get up or downstairs in their own homes. Everyone was confined to one floor and in the center room of the house, trying to avoid all windows or openings to the outside.
The day the curfew was called off for good that year, Samir's brother went to his factory to check on things. Hiding in the factory was a soldier who didn't realize the curfew was called off. He shot Samir's brother dead with one bullet.
Samir was quite clear that this was an accident. And seemed so matter of fact about it. He decided then and there to move his family back to Palestine from Chicago to full fill his family responsibility. He needed to be the uncle, brother-in-law, son to everyone who had lost. Except to express my sincere sympathy, what does one say?
Samir's children are all American citizens and can't wait for the day that they can return to the life they left and lost.
Again and again I hear stories like this. Some people are full of pain and grief when they tell me. Others have moved on.
I have met several families who were living overseas when the father's felt the incredible tug to move their families back to Palestine and do their duty to the ones left here. So far it, it is their children and adult children that I have met who all struggle with the decision to move back here. Some of them have come to peace with it and are trying to figure out how they can move back overseas but still try to take care of their elders and maintain a good Muslim Palestinian values where ever they go.
It is such a contrast to me from the people I am used to being around. Latino's move to other countries out of loyalty to their family to send money home for the people at home to survive. Filipinos do the same. In Korea I worked with a migrant workers community center and met people from all over the world who didn't like Korea at all but needed to be their for their families.
In Palestine, the people here feel like they need to hold their ground. If everyone seeks a better life in another country, there won't be anyone left to make claim to the country of Palestine and it will be swallowed up whole by their neighbors. Not only do the people who return feel like need to take care of their elders but also to respect the thousands of years of ancestors who lived here in Nablus not to mention their own future generations.
It is a lot to think about and ponder.
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