Ramadan for Non-Muslims
Ramadan started last night; it means that the very thinnest of crescent moons was sighted by official astronomers, and the lunar month of Ramadan might begin. You might think it odd that people wait, with eager anticipation, for a month of daytime fasting, but the Muslims do – they wait for it eagerly.
A friend explained to me that it is a time of purification, when your prayers and supplications are doubly powerful, and when God takes extra consideration of the good that you do and the intentions of your heart. It is also a time when the devil cannot be present, so if you are tempted, it is coming from your own heart, and you battle against the temptations of your own heart. Forgiveness flows in this month, and blessings, too.
We have similar beliefs – think about it. Our holy people fast when asking a particular boon of God. We try to keep ourselves particularly holy at certain times of the year.
In Muslim countries, the state supports Ramadan, so things are a little different. Schools start later. Offices are open fewer hours. The two most dangerous times of the day are the times when schools dismiss and parents are picking up kids, and just before sunset, as everyone rushes to be home for the breaking of the fast, which occurs as the sun goes down. In olden days, there was a cannon that everyone in the town could hear, that signalled the end of the fast. There may still be a cannon today – in Doha there was, and we could hear it, but if there is a cannon in Kuwait, we are too far away, and can’t hear it.
When the fast is broken, traditionally after the evening prayer, you take two or three dates, and water or special milk drink, a meal which helps restore normal blood sugar levels and takes the edge off the fast. Shortly, you will eat a larger meal, full of special dishes eaten only during Ramadan. Families visit one another, and you will see maids carrying covered dishes to sisters houses and friends houses – everyone makes a lot of food, and shares it with one another. When we lived in Tunisia, we would get a food delivery maybe once a week – it is a holy thing to share, especially with the poor and we always wondered if we were being shared with as neighbors, or shared with as poor people! I always tried to watch what they particularly liked when they would visit me, so I could sent plates to their houses during Ramadan.
Just before the sun comes up, there is another meal, Suhoor, and for that meal, people usually eat something that will stick to your ribs, and drink extra water, because you will not eat again until the sun goes down. People who can, usually go back to bed after the Suhoor meal and morning prayers. People who can, sleep a lot during the day, during Ramadan. Especially as Ramadan moves into the hotter months, the fasting, especially from water, becomes a heavier responsibility.
And because it is a Muslim state, and to avoid burdening our brothers and sisters who are fasting, even non-Muslims refrain from eating, drinking, touching someone of the opposite sex in public, even your own husband (not having sex in the daytime is also a part of fasting), smoking is forbidden, and if you are in a car accident and you might be at fault, the person might say “I am fasting, I am fasting” which means they cannot argue with you because they are trying to maintain a purity of soul. Even chewing gum is an offense. And these offenses are punishable by a heavy fine – nearly $400 – or a stay in the local jail.
Because I am not Muslim, there may be other things of which I am not aware, and my local readers are welcome to help fill in here. As for me, I find it not such a burden; I like that there is a whole month with a focus on God. You get used to NOT drinking or eating in public during the day, it’s not that difficult. The traffic just before (sunset) Ftoor can be deadly, but during Ftoor, traffic lightens dramatically (as all the Muslims are breaking their fast) and you can get places very quickly! Stores have special foods, restaurants have special offerings, and the feeling in the air is a lot like Christmas. People are joyful!
Sheikh Faisal Bin Qassim Al Thani Museum
On a recent flight, I found an insert for the Sheikh Faisal Bin Qassim Al Thani Museum, the Doha equivalent to the Tarek Rajab Museum here in Kuwait. I have visited both of these museums many times – and have marvelled that private individuals would amass such great collections and share them – free – with the public.
You have to be invited, or you have to ask (groups often do) if you can visit; it is not open daily the way the Tarek Rajab Museum is.
You can find the museum online at Sheikh Faisal Bin Qassim Al Thani Museum.
Cheap Gas
Back in Florida, I went to church with my son and his wife. The preacher at this church was very very good. Why do I think so? Because what he said has stuck with me all this time. Here is what he said:
Be careful how you fill your time. Be careful about the thoughts you think, the books you read, the programs your watch.
Bad thoughts are like cheap gas – if you put cheap gas in your car, your car won’t perform up to it’s full potential.
I totally get what he is saying – I think about the time I spend on worthless things, things that won’t matter two instants when this life is over, things I will regret having wasted any energy on.
Think about how we get so obsessed with small insults, unintended slights, even intentional wrongs done to us by others. Think about how we worry about money, about our possessions, about possessions we would like to have, how we envy others or try to find ways to make them envy us.
Think how little they matter in the long run, and yet we obsess, we give these people, things and events power over us by thinking about them too much, when we should be moving on, doing what we were created to be doing, living up to our best selves, the selves our creator had in mind when he fashioned us into being.
I want the high octane fuel in my machine, but somehow, the low octane creeps in, and I keep having to flush it out.
And another thought creeps in – this preacher has never lived in Kuwait or Doha, where all gas is CHEAP! In Germany, I paid almost $5 a gallon for gas, so every time I fill my tank here, I smile.
But what is the quality of the gas we get in Kuwait? What am I putting in my car? I don’t even know!
And would it make a difference if I did know? If the gas we are putting in our car isn’t good quality, is there anyplace we would go to put in a better quality of gas – isn’t all gas in Kuwait from the same source?
Random musings . . . .
Purgatorian Packing
Back in November, we talked about what we pack in our suitcases.
Flying out of Kuwait, however, hits me in my weakest spot. While I find life often unpredictable, and I have learned to roll with it and even to like it and to miss it when it is TOO predictable, I like predictability when I am flying.
Once again, I have gone online to discover that the reservation I thought I had has become a totally different reservation.
I am guessing the airline thought they were doing a frequent flyer a big favor, but here is what has happened. From an elegantly efficient flight with two comfortable connections, I now have a flight that has four very tight connections.
I have two problems – one is that I suspect my bags will not make it. I am guessing the change happened right about when I looked at the dress I wore to Doha (see Travel Karma Failure) and ended up wearing for four days in a row and thought “that held up pretty well, think I will wear that on my long flight back” and I am guessing it was at that very moment my reservations got changed.
I’m not superstitious, but I am wondering if that is a bad luck dress?
Second, I have an inter-Europe flight, and I am wondering if my carry-on will make it on that flight; I know that shorter flights often restrict what you can take on with you. And in my carry-on, I need to do the Purgatorian thing and have extra clothing for while I am waiting for my bags to arrive, as well as my computer, my camera, and other small things like keys, three cell phones (don’t even ask) that work for me. So inside my carry-on I need to have an even smaller bag that I can grab out if they take my carry-on away, so that I am not carrying a naked computer around.
Arrrrrrrrrrggggghhhhhhhhhh!
The title relates to the very organized habits of my fellow blogger, Purgatory, who just celebrated his three year Blogaversary, and who is coming up on another birthday. His rules for packing have logic and organization, and in a purgatorian kind of situation, you need to be able to think in a Purgatorian kind of way, taking account of all the hellish variations. And I am guessing that if there is a purgatory, (althought the Catholic church said this year that there is not), that it is a lot like an airport, waiting for a departure, thinking of eternity.
Doha Additions
The rate of building in Doha is astounding. You have to wonder, sometimes, how the building inspectors can keep up with it all. I am guessing in Doha they lose one or two workers a week to unsafe construction practices, and I wonder at the quality of the construction . . . .
I particularly love this building, facing the Gulf. I call it the Doha twist. I think it has a spectacular look:
They have been working on the foundation for this building for years now, with nothing to show for it. The design of the building totally cracks me up.
From time to time, in both Doha and Kuwait, I have seen honest-to-God wild Parrakeets, Flamingos and Cranes. But when we say that the crane is the Qatar national bird, this is what we mean:
Quintessentially Doha
While all the news is about the burgeoning crop of skyscrapers in Doha, these two landmarks are located close to one another, in the old downtown Doha area, when the Sheraton Hotel was way out there – kinda like the Ritz Carleton is now, with the growth of West Bay creeping the city out closer and closer.
The first is quintessential Doha – the crossed swords on Grand Hamad, which turns into Airport Road:
The second photo is of the QCPI building – Qatar Center for the Presentation of Islam – which we all watched with total amazement as it was being built – what imagination! It gives Doha a unique skyline. Even with the imaginative skyscrapers, a skyscraper skyline is just a skyscraper skyline – it all blends. But this building – WHOA! It is so bold, so retro and so forward at the same time – I love it.
This is a view looking across the newly renovated Iranian souks – the old Souk area in Doha:
Retro Metro
Getting ready to open at Villagio is one of my favorite places – Paul’s. When you can’t get to France, you can at least get to Paul’s. No, no little pichet of good wine with your salad, but truly great croissants, tartes and salads, and I am a great fan of their salmon fettucine.
And look what they are doing at Villagio! Look at the Art Nouveau wrought-iron trim on the shade! It looks like the Sacre Coeur metro stop! When it opens, it will be out in the open, a la Marina Mall, very French sidewalk cafe/restaurant. Unlike Al Kout Mall, this one has no outside area, tant pis!
When the weather outside is blistering hot, these malls are the only comfortable place to be. Thank God they are done with so much imagination.
Strolling Through Villagio
As I sat in the Kuwait airport, waiting, waiting, waiting . . . .I ran into a friend also heading to Doha, and we spent some time together. For one thing, she told me about Villagio, which didn’t exist when I lived in Doha.
If I lived in Doha, this is where I would spend my summer, walking along the avenues and gondola filled lagoons of Villagio. After a good stroll, I could sit down at one of the many restaurants and cafes and wipe out all the good work I had done strolling!
How cool is this?
The lagoon winds through the Mall, and you can take a boat ride when you are tired of shopping:
I love all the attention to detail, especially the streetlights, which are lit day and night, and provide a delightful romantic atmosphere:
The perfect place for a stroll – or a 10K hike!
Travel Karma Failure
I have really good travel karma – most of the time. Even when things go wrong, something good comes out of it. And before you read any further, you must know that during this trip, I had a really good time, surrounded by friends, good conversation, a lot of laughter and a very understanding husband – it had a happy ending. But this was a serious travel karma failure.
Oh, I had planned to carefully – fly out early, my friends pick me up, we loll around the pool catching up, grab a bite to eat, and eventually they drop me off at my hotel where I hook up with my husband.
Only this is what I saw on my way to the airport:
And this is what I saw as the plane was delayed – and delayed – and delayed again:
And this is what the airport looked like as more and more planes got delayed:
After – literally – hours, we board. We are rolling away from the airport when a guy a couple seats up from me says . . . something . . . to the stewardess and the guy across from him. As the plane continues rolling, I watch the guy across the aisle get up, go to the galley and make a phone call. The plane keeps rolling rolling rolling, but . . . rolls to a stop and all kinds of vehicals come out to the plane.
They all have a discussion:
But you know this part of the world, everyone has an opinion and wants to be heard. Back and forth up and down the aisle. The entire Qatar soccer team weighed in on this one:
Somehow, it all got resolved. I get to Doha – not early morning, but six at night. I’ve already told my friends to forget picking me up in peak traffic time, but I would see them the next day – we already had plans. But the topping on this perfect day is that my suitcase didn’t come. People were sent looking here and there, and another hour passed.
No suitcase. No explanation, but they assure me the suitcase is still in Kuwait. Get it here, I tell them, I need it. Send it to my hotel. And I rush to duty free to pick up some face cream and mascara and lipstick – you know, the essentials. When I get to the hotel I realize I have nothing, but the gift shop, thank God, has very large T-shirts I can sleep in, a hairbrush, a toothbrush and even underpants.
My greatest fear, as the suitcase continues to NOT show up, is that I will never see it again. It is a great suitcase, and inside it is my computer power cord. Normally a balanced, easy going person, I have bad dreams, angry dreams, frustrated dreams and I wake unrested, and wanting clean clothes.
My husband, not normally known for his patience, was very tenderly patient with me. I think he was more than a little bewildered to see me so bent out of shape. It was probably funny – if you weren’t me.
For three days, for every event, I wear the same clothes. Three days. The bag finally showed up this morning – still at the airport – just in time for my return trip to Kuwait.
Now that, my friends, is a SERIOUS travel karma failure.
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