Ramazan days

The month of Ramazan started last Friday here. While I lived through Ramazan in Turkey last year, it was really not any sort of an issue, as I lived in a diplomatic section of Ankara, and socialized with expats and fairly westernized folks. Neighborhood restaurants were full all day long. I never even heard the early-morning drums, which are sounded to wake people up before dawn to eat before sunrise.

This year, oh boy is Ramazan a part of my life. About 5 people at work do not fast; that leaves at least one hundred people in the building not eating, drinking or smoking during daylight hours. As a Catholic, I look at our fasting and feel like a weakling: we get water, there's nothing about smoking for those so inclined, and we even get a light meal as part of our fasting requirements. And our fasting days are generally one at a time, spread out over the year. A solid month of not eating or drinking, even water, from sunup to sundown, while working, is rough.

As part of Ramazan at a religiously-inclined workplace, the company cafeteria has been shut down, as has the bakery on the ground floor. The coffee machines are out of coffee and will not be refilled until late September. The snack machine has 2 bags of pretzel rods left and also will not be refilled til almost October. The one thing that is still around, thank goodness, is the water cooler. Us non-fasting heathens have stockpiled tea and instant coffee mixes to get our workday coffee fixes, although I've tried to avoid drinking my blackberry tea, because the smell wafts across the news floor, and that seems pretty insensitive especially towards the end of the day.

The nice part about Ramazan at work though is that the company gave the nonfasters gift cards to spend on lunch at local restaurants. Unfortunately, so far they only work at McDonald's and Sbarro. On the bright side, Sbarro has caesar salad, which is excellent. On Fridays, when we work late, the cafeteria opens to serve iftar, or the fast-breaking meal, which is a big production. Community iftars are pretty fun, especially as the countdown to sundown begins: there's a tide of noise as everyone gets excited to finally eat, which gives way to absolute silence, save the occasional clink of silverware.

One cultural crossover I learned about today is the Ramazan gift exchange. One of our page editors is organizing this, at work; it's exactly like Secret Santa, except the exchange occurs at the end of Ramazan. It's fitting, because Seker Bayram, the holiday at the end of Ramazan that literally means "sugar holiday," is somewhat Christmas-like.

In my neighborhood here, as well, most people observe the fast. The restaurants are nearly empty, and even the touristy fish restaurants are hurting for customers until about 8p.m., when everyone can eat again. My bread guy has a small stand in front of his shop piled high with Ramazan bread, which is apparently special and made only for Ramazan. It's delicious, so I wish they'd make it year-round, but alas. It's round, and slightly puffier than their normal pide bread.

Another new experience for me has been the Ramazan drums. On Sunday morning I heard them for the first time ever. Good Lord are they loud. I'm fairly certain there was a two-party drum-off below my window Sunday morning; it went on for over ten minutes, which I'm sure many would agree is not at all what you want to hear when it is 4a.m. and you don't need to get up and eat because you can indeed eat all day, heathen that you are. Also, it woke the cat up, who then decided that 5:30a.m. was most definitely time for me to get up.

Aside from the drums (which actually can be somewhat pleasant, part of the charm of living in my part of Istanbul) and the lack of coffee and breakfast at work, I've really enjoyed Ramazan this year, as I've actually been able to see and live with people who are really fasting, and who embrace the spirit of Ramazan. I'm really impressed by everyone I know who is able to work all day without caffeine or even water (I think the water part is particularly impressive); going all day without imbibing anything would be not bad at all if one did absolutely nothing all day, but to get up, travel to work, concentrate on frustrating wording issues all day (current challenge: trying to catch every time writers refer to the government's Kurdish initiative as the "final solution to the Kurdish problem" -- because that's just not good) and then travel home, all without water or anything to nosh on, that's just really darn impressive. And they do it every day for a month.

I've heard that tempers get short towards the end of Ramazan, which is understandable. Luckily, I've just happened to plan my trip back to the States to coincide with the last week of the fasting month. So while everyone here is counting down the days til they can eat normally again, I'll be doubly haraam, with my not-fasting and my seeking-out-of-pork-products planned for my visit to the States. It's going to be good.

-R