Ramadan Reflections and Ibrahim's Smile

I realize that when I don't write often, I'm left with an abundance of words. I apologize for the length of this entry, but I encourage you to read the whole thing if you have time. I hope you enjoy my Ramadan reflections and writing about the past few weeks....

Ramadan is now officially over. Last night at this time, I also thought Ramadan was over. Everyone was talking about how the Eid (holiday) was going to be today but due to a moonless sky, Ramadan went on for another day. The Islamic year is based on the lunar calendar, something I am not used to growing up in the US. Each year, every Eid and the month of Ramadan take place 15 or 16 days before it did the last year. In some countries, Ramadan may start or end a day earlier or later than another country... it all depends on the moon. Assuming that yesterday was last day of Ramadan, when people found out that it was one more day of fasting, I felt a sense of burden among the people. To make things worse, today is a Sunday and therefore, most everything is already closed. The last day of fasting became a day of rest, sleeping in, and naps for many Moroccans. Its amazing to think about how the lives of 35 million Moroccans and 1.3 billion Muslims around the world are at the will, so to speak, of the moon. This has made me realize two things. The first is that Ramadan has really showed me the freedom we have in Christ. Jesus invites us to live an abundant life with the freedom to love and be perfect. It may be an impossible task, but it is the goal; to "be perfect, for the Lord your God is perfect" (Matthew 5:48). This does not take place one month of the year, but every day that our heart beats. It is a freedom not to indulge in a selfish life for oursevles, but instead to "serve one another in love" (Galatians 5:13). On the flip side, I think there is something to learn about being at the will of the moon. Like my attitude yesterday, too often we are concerned about tomorrow. I had my heart set on Ramadan being over, not because fasting is so difficult, but because I was so excited about the Eid (Eid Al Fitr is the holiday at the end of Ramadan... consists of eating breakfast (the real thing, not the one at sunset) with your family, the first time in a month, and then visiting friends and family for the reminder of the day while wearing Morocco's traditional dress, a djellaba) and to move on with life. I'm ready to get on with the next thing, but with the prolonging of Ramadan, I'm reminded to focus on today. And let me tell you, today has been a great day (more on that below)! If we are satisfied with today and not preoccupied with the worries of tomorrow, we can enjoy life. This is the day that the Lord has made, so rejoice and be glad in it (Psalm 118:24) for tomorrow has enough worries of its own (Matthew 6:24). When we live at the will of the moon (aka, God, the creator of the heavens and the earth), we cannot control the future, but are instead forced to live in the present. What a beautiful and calming lesson that can be learned from this. Let us focus our eyes on today instead of tomorrow so that we may see the beautiful things, both big and small, that God has given us.

Besides learning how to live at the will of the moon, I have learned a few other things during this Ramadan. A month ago, I started fasting and fasted the whole month, except for the four days I spent in The Netherlands and the one day I was sick here in Tangier. If I was following the pure form of Muslim fasting as discussed in the Qur'an than I have nothing to worry about. In Islam, exceptions to fasting are made for those who are on a journey (my trip to Holland) or who are ill (like I was a week ago) as well as those who are pregnant, children, and a few other exceptions. However, these days must be made up later in the year. If someone breaks the fast before the call for prayer at sunset and he/see does not fall under any of these categories of exception, the punishment is quite heavy. For every day one breaks the fast early (intentionally), their punishment includes the following choices: freeing a slave (a bit more difficult to do now than back in the 7th century), fasting for two months (this also means that if you break the fast 2 days you can add 4 months to your fasting, including having to finish Ramadan), or feeding 60 poor people (not giving them money, but feeding them, with the same amount of food you would eat... in other words, you can't just buy 60 McDonald's burgers or loaves of bread and pass them out to 60 beggars). I'm not a Muslim, but if I was, I don't know what I would choose. The truth is that even today, there are hundreds of thousands of slaves around the world today, ranging from child labor slaves to sex slaves. As much as I would love to free a slave, there are two factors I need to consider. First is the fact that I don't know of any slaves. I don't know where I could begin to look for them... maybe visiting a brothel in Thailand frequented by American, Canadian, European, Russian, Saudi Arabian, or Australian men men on "Sex Tours" (yes, as disgusting as this is it's the truth... such "tours" can even be arranged in Los Angeles) or a cocoa farm in West Africa run by a large multi-national corporation that exploits their workers so that the privileged in the global north can indulge in chocolate, unaware of the tired perhaps bloody hands that picked it under the extreme conditions of climate and abuse. The second aspect worth considering is being able to recognize and tend to the psychological effects of being released from slavery. I read an article a few years back about the psychological repercussions that freed slaves suffer from after being "released". Though physically released, every other aspect of their being remains in bondage to their master and the once-slave-now-free person often seeks to return to their previous lifestyle. I'm not saying that slaves should remain slaves, but a freed slave needs serious psychotherapy, otherwise they are worse off than they were before. (I cannot remember the exact title of the article, but if you are interested, please contact me. I have the article back in the US and I could pass it along when I get back) So maybe then I would fast for two months or feed 60 poor people. Fasting for two months seems a bit selfish, so I might as well spend the energy doing something that is beneficial to others, not just focus on myself for two months. Then again, I've cooked for 10 or 15 people and that was a lot of work. 60? I'd definitely need some lessons in the kitchen from some of the Moroccan women, who cook for 20-30 people like it's just another night with the family.

Ramadan has definitely been a time of reflection, not just fasting. Actually, when I look back on Ramadan, fasting remains in the background. The focus of every day seems to be the f'tour (feasting). "F'tour" literally means "breakfast" since it is the first meal eaten. At the Maghreb (sunset), the call for prayer is proclaimed from loudspeakers on every minaret in the city. When Ramadan began a month ago, the maghreb was around 7:30pm and with the days getting shorter, the maghreb tonight was at 6:28pm. The later in the month it gets, the less time it is to fast. In The Netherlands though, the maghreb wasn't until 9pm when I was there... making Ramadan much more difficult for the thousands of Muslims living there and in northern Europe. Forbidden during (the day) Ramadan are eating, drinking, smoking, lying, sexual activities, fighting, lust, alcohol, etc. but once the sun sets, the fasting is over. Things like eating and drinking (and smoking for some) are now permissible. I'm having trouble understanding how other things people fast from, like lusting, bad language, or lying are OK to do at night, but not during the day, or even after Ramadan for that matter. I know that no one can be perfect, but if Ramadan is supposed to be a month of fasting from the things of this world that bring us further away from God, it seems that it would be missing the point for people to carry on staring at girls the wrong way or taking part in indecent behavior just because the sun went down and the rules don't apply as strictly anymore. I'm reminded of the brilliant, and sometimes humbling words "It is not what goes into a man's mouth that makes him 'unclean,' but what comes out of his mouth that makes him clean, for the things that come out of the mouth come from the heart" (Matthew 15:11,18). The broader picture of this is that the life we produce through words, actions, and attitudes, come from the heart. This is of unparalleled significance to the things that we put in our body. If for example I fast (during the day) for a month straight and eat only kosher food (at night), it is unrivaled to my actions, attitudes, and words, which originate from the heart. If by night my heart is full of hate and lust, what good is fasting during the day? I don't mean to sound harsh or sound as if I'm making sweeping statements about Moroccans. Alternately, I'm thinking out loud, as these are some of the thoughts I've been wrestling with the past couple weeks. These words to not convey direct experiences but instead express personal reflections regarding fasting. It's not so much about the details of the law as it is the heart of the law. Furthermore, I'm seeking to understand the Muslim context in which I am living in while keeping Jesus' words fresh and alive in my life.

Anyways, back to the food! F'tour, or breakfast, is taken at the maghreb. I am blessed to have had the opportunity to take f'tour with at least 15 different people/families and locations. I broke the fast with wealthy families and a huge feast throughout many parts of Morocco, with younger Moroccans fresh out of college and making the transition into the adult/working life in Casablanca (the biggest city... a city of opportunities), with my host family in Fez, with a poor family in Azrou, in a restaurant in the college town of Ifrane, at a bible study with Al-Akhawayn University international students and faculty, on an airplane just before take off (nearly everyone on the plane was Moroccan and at sunset, people all of a sudden broke out meals they prepared and packed in tupper-wear containers and shared with everyone.... I brought a bag of dates to share with others... I'm quickly learning that in Morocco "what's mine is yours"... sharing is a part of the everyday life), and with friends, old and new, in several different homes here in Tangier. Typically, 30 minutes before the maghreb (and sometimes up to 45 minutes or an hour), families start gathering around the table as it is being set. The empty dinner tables quickly become filled with harira (soup), shabakia (sweet pastry-like thing with honey), dates, baklava, a plethora of sweet Moroccan pastries, milk, and juice. Then, everyone sits around the table and waits for the call. At the sound of "Allah Akbar..." ("God the Greatest...") everyone digs in. Once again, this idea that life revolves around the moon, or in this case, the call for prayer is so foreign to me. At that call, life changes. Drinks are sipped, food is eaten, and cigarettes are lit. Words cannot express what it is like to live by the authority of a call for prayer. I had trouble with that throughout the month. Some days I wanted to fast longer and other days I just wanted pray or go spend the meal with someone on the streets. The first few days, I was so thirsty that I skipped the food and went straight for the juice and the water. One thing I miss is saying a prayer of thanksgiving before eating, especially during such an important meal. Part of fasting is the aspect of remembering the poor and knowing what it may be like to be poor and hungry, but this is soon forgotten when there is a feast in front of your eyes and everyone starts devouring their food. Throughout the month, I tried to remember to spend time giving thanks to God for the food. For me, beginning a meal, in this case f'tour, should be marked with thanksgiving and not just hearing the call for prayer at the maghreb.

The f'tour meal lasts anywhere between 20 minutes and 2 hours. It is usually followed by tea and more pastries. One night in Tangier, I was invited for f'tour with Haitam (who I'm staying with), his dad, and his brothers. (Haitam's mom has been in Saudi Arabia for the last month for the "O'mara", not to be confused with the Hajj. Since she is gone all month, the boys (including the father) are left to eat f'tour at other peoples' homes or downstairs with Haitam's aunt because most men do not cook in Morocco). Not only did this one f'tour meal last 2 hours, but two rounds of two different tea were served, followed by a huge "dinner" (as if we weren't already full). Four hours later, we were done eating! This isn't anything out of the norm for Morocco, especially during Ramadan. I had trouble adjusting to eating absolutely nothing during the day and then feasting (literally) once the sun went down. I'm still having trouble trying to swallow (excuse the pun) this idea of "fasting". Personally, I think fasting should be the giving up of a meal, or two or three or four...etc. Instead, the month of Ramadan is fasting in the day and feasting at night. The meals that would be eaten during the day are pushed back until after sunset. This calls for a very late night. Dinner time is usually around 12 midnight or 1am. However, one night Haitam and I played a futsal match with some friends from 12:30-1:30am. Any excersize/activity during the day is difficult, especially when you can't drink water. So the only time to play soccer is at night, several hours after people spend f'tour with their families and friends. We got home after 2am, showered, and ate around 3am. This is the life of Ramadan in Morocco. Now that Ramadan is over, I'm looking forward to going to bed before 2am, morning runs and staying hydrated throughout the day. And the food... not as big of a deal as long as I eat once or twice. Not eating during the day even saved me a bit of money and we know that's always a plus! :)

Tonight, I just got back from a huge dinner. I had f'tour here with Haitam's family (minus his mom who is in Saudi Arabia for another week) and then we were invited to a friend's house for dinner. There were about 10 of us in total, all crowded around a 5 foot table. For dinner, an entire goat was served on a huge platter that just about took up the whole table. It's not very Moroccan to use cutlery, so we all dug in with our hands. I felt pretty barbaric sitting at the table with 10 other men eating a roasted goat with our hands. I've had goat quite a bit in parts of Africa and even India but this one took away the gold medal! After stuffing myself with a kilo worth of meat, a large assortment of fruit was served. Just when I thought I couldn't put anything else down my throat, we all shared an icecream cake from one of my favorite cafe's in Tangier. What a meal! This definitely makes the Top 10 list of meals I've had in Morocco.

Although the meal was definitely nothing short of a highlight to my day, the main highlight happened earlier this afternoon. Two blocks from Haitam's house, on the way to the main street, is a wall that attracts a handful of beggars. Most of the beggars here are regulars that I walk by every day. Some of them are blind, others missing a limb (others two, three, or all limbs), and there are sometimes women and children. My heart breaks every time I walk by them. I pass by them daily, sometimes several times in one day. Besides not being able to speak enough Arabic with them, I'm left with limited options. (1) I can smile at them, hoping that it might brighten their day just a little bit. On the other hand, I have to wonder what it must be like for them to see me walk by and smile like everything is OK and life is wonderful. I usually take the risk and give a little smile. (2) I can give them some money. The problem with this is twofold: I have a limited amount of money because i have no income and secondly, if i give to one, i should probably give to all. Since I see them every day, when do i give them money? I can't do it every day, otherwise i might run out of money and be stuck in Morocco. Hey, maybe that's a good idea! ;) (3) I can give them food. This too has been a problem. During Ramadan, finding food during the day is more difficult than one might imagine and eating in public is illegal. With the food option out of the question (until after tomorrow), I'm left with options 1 and 2.

So today I passed by a guy who I see just about every day. I smile at him and he gives me a warm smile back. More than anyone else, I feel drawn to this guy. His smile is impressive and it touches my spirit, walking by him several times a day as he sits in his wheel chair with only one leg and an outstretched arm. Unlike the other beggars, he does not say anything or try to get peoples attention. He just sits there waiting for someone to notice him and give a smile so he can give one in return. I can tell he is African, so I assumed that he knew a little English. Today as I was walked back to the house, I was praying for him, praying that he would be there and I could get to talk to him for a bit. Sure enough, as I turned the corner, I laid eyes on him. I greeted him and Arabic and shook his hand. I made sure to shake his hand and put my arm on his shoulder like most Moroccans do when they greet each other. The power of touch is something that most people take for granted as part of their everyday life. When you live on the streets and live off of the change that people give to you, you are nothing more than an outcast, an untouchable. Humans need physical touch to survive and remain healthy, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally (there have been studies on it). Henri Nouwen, a Dutch priest/pastor for a mentally handicapped community in Canada/author, describes his day at an orphanage in poverty-stricken Bolivia, "The children were so starved for affection that they fought with each other for the privilege of touching me. How little do we really know the power of physical touch. These boys and girls only wanted one thing: to be touched, hugged, stroked, and caressed. Probably most adults have the same needs but no longer have the innocence and unself-consciousness to express them. Sometimes I see humanity as a sea of people starving for affection, tenderness, care, love, acceptance, forgiveness, and gentleness" (Gracias! pg. 44). With an exchange of handshakes and greetings in Arabic, I asked him if he spoke English. Being from Senegal he spoke mostly French, but could understand most of my English. I sat with him and talked for a few minutes. A man, whom I didn't notice, was listening to us talk. He was Moroccan and offered to translate for me, just to make sure my new friend Ibrahim knew what I was saying. When you step out of the status quo, people not only notice but are drawn to do the same. With a little act of love, walls come quickly down and all of a sudden a Muslim Moroccan, a Senegali immigrant, and a Christian from America are quickly joined together. What a beautiful sight. So I told Ibrahim that because I live just down the street, I will see him every day and I won't be the stranger who just walks by with a smile. Although I gave him some money, I told him that whatever he needs to let me know. I may not have tons of money to offer him, but what I do have is love and touch.

I tell you this story for a few reasons. I do not want to build myself to be a righteous do-gooder or anything like that... I am neither of those. I wanted to tell you about my new friend, a man who's smile is not only contagious but humbling at the same time. When you sit in the same spot every day with a humble outstretch hand and with one less leg than everyone who walks by, grateful for the smallest coin to drop from someone's hand and you can still put a smile on your face... that is powerful! I don't know Ibrahim's story, but that my next reason for writing this. Morocco attracts a lot of immigrants from Sub-Saharan Africa. Located only 15 kilometers across the Straight of Gibraltar from Spain (the EU), Tangier is the destination for thousands who flee their home country in hopes to pursue a better life in Europe. Although Europe is the goal, most do not get there. Some stay in Morocco, finding life in Morocco better than their war-torn and impoverished homelands. Others, who remain set on their original goal, attempt to cross the Mediterranean in makeshift boats. If they are not caught by official patrol or guard boats, they often capsize and drown. The narrow, but deadly, straight has claimed countless lives of those who tried to cross, as it did this weekend (see attached link to article: http://english.aljazeera.net/news/africa/2009/09/200991919917332747.html). The ugly truth is that people leave their dire situations to search for a better life, a life where they can live in peace and dignity, without the threat or fear that terrorizes them daily. Some have fled civil wars and others manage to escape grinding poverty. Despite your political views on immigration, these are people in desperate need of love... a love that comes from the God of peace, not in the unfulfilled dreams and policies of politicians and world leaders. The Bible speaks repeatedly about caring for the stranger and the alien. Even if you don't follow the Bible, I think the least we can do as decent human beings is to stretch out a caring hand to these poor and oppressed people. If we can attempt to put ourselves in their shoes, then we can begin to understand what life is like for so many people in this world.

I don't know Ibrahim's story. I don't know how he lost his leg. I don't know if he's attempted the most frightening and treacherous task of crossing the Mediterranean in a makeshift raft with the hope of starting a new life in Europe, or if he's lost family or friends in the process of doing so. I do know that he deserves the loving touch of a friend and a few bucks at the very least. I ask that you will be praying for Ibrahim. Though you don't know him, please pray for his life as a foreigner, an alien, an amputee, a beggar, and a beloved child of God. Pray that through his little bit of English and my little bit of French and Arabic that we will be able to communicate with eachother. More importantly, I would encourage you (I want to command you but that might just be too overbearing... so I challenge you) to love. Jesus says that of course we can love our friends, anyone can do that. But can we love those we don't like? our enemies? the marginalized? In America, there are plenty of marginalized people groups. Illegal immigrants may be a drain on the education system, but that's no excuse not to love them, to treat them with dignity and respect, to reach out a caring and helping hand, to invite them into our homes or out for a meal, or to put ourselves in their shoes and imagine what a day in the life of an immigrant might be like. May we learn from Ibrahim's smile to be grateful of all things even though all around us looks so much better. May we learn from and love the meek.