From the Washington Post
Ramadan and Fasting in a Parallel Universe
Today's guest blogger is Usra Ghazi, an American Muslim living and working in Amman, Jordan. Usra is a graduate of DePaul University in Chicago, Illinois, and has been involved with the Interfaith Youth Core (IFYC) in a variety of ways, including being a former Board Member, intern, and a participant in IFYC & Jordan Interfaith Action's InterACTION Youth Exchange between Amman and Chicago.
It took me a minute to register the question. In a dimly lit café on the hills of West Amman, in Jordan, for the first time in a long time, I was at a loss for words.
"So, are you Muslim?"
I was meeting an acquaintance of a Christian Jordanian friend. Two years ago, when I visited Amman with Interfaith Youth Core, I met this woman and other Muslims and Christians who formed the Jordan Interfaith Action group. JIA consists of religiously diverse young people who combine interfaith dialogue with community service.
She introduced me as "an American who will be living and working in Amman." By this time, I grew accustomed to the raised eyebrows of those surprised that a short Pakistani woman in a headscarf and modest clothes could also be American. But on this particular night, the eyebrow was cocked and accompanied with a question.
"So, are you Muslim?
"What do you mean?"
"You're American, right?"
"Yes."
"And Muslim?"
"Am I not wearing hijab?"
"Yeah, you are....so you're Muslim?"
I credit old reruns of the sitcom Friends and the immediate availability of the latest Hollywood movie DVDs for the absurdity of this conversation. I've also been told that American women are "loose," that we are devoid of morality, and incredibly fat. It should come as no surprise to readers that as much as Arabs and Muslims are associated with terrorism or backwardness in the U.S., Americans are misjudged in the Arabic-speaking world.
The following week, when facilitating an English conversation club at the language center where I teach, I chose to discuss preparations for religious holidays in Jordan and America. If anything brings religions together, it's the arrival of the Islamic month of Ramadan. This year, it falls on the first week of September. I began by showing a photo slideshow of Muslim Americans breaking their fast on a long rug across the floor of the common room of an American mosque. There were images of families preparing the meal, young women at a college MSA praying side by side, and a photo of our President shaking hands with a Muslim leader for the annual iftar dinner at the White House.
I expected the raised eyebrows, as each picture appeared, and imagined the thoughts running through the students' minds.
"They eat communally, too?"
"Muslim Americans pray at University?"
"They have an 'Eid holiday stamp'? Amazing!"
What I didn't anticipate was the collective scoff, upon seeing President Bush recognize a holiday that millions of Americans observe. Surely, they knew by now that Americans celebrate Ramadan with even more jubilation than Jordanian Muslims!
I won't deny that the resentment stemmed from our President's political reputation, but there was more. Here, in a country where there is a significant minority of Christians--enough to warrant the presence of Churches alongside Mosques--the concept of interfaith bridge building is drastically new.
Although my Christian friend is part of a dynamic group of activists who donate food to various refugee camps for Ramadan, her interfaith experiences in this month are limited. As a Christian, she takes advantage of the deserted streets for calm walks, as masses of Muslims flock home for the sunset meal. That's how I've spent every Christmas for the past two decades. I'm in a parallel universe!
What makes Ramadan markedly different in America is that it truly brings all faiths together. Hindu friends refrained from food in solidarity with me during lunch breaks in high school. I've shared a day of fasting with non-Muslim peers for Fast-a-thon, a charity drive on the campus of DePaul University (and schools across the country). Last year, I was invited to "Iftar in the Sukkah" which celebrated the coinciding of the Jewish holiday Sukkot and Ramadan.
This is a time for the Muslim community to strengthen from within, as well. Contrary to popular belief, we're not just refraining from food. To make the most of the physical fast, we fast from negative thoughts and deeds--from being unkind or selfish. Not eating is a cakewalk in comparison with the spiritual demands of the month. Thus, to look across the table and see the encouraging faces of non-Muslim friends and fellow believers is uplifting. To bless the food in thanks recited in Arabic and Hebrew, in the words of our prophets and faith leaders, is sacred.
In desperate need of a spirituality recharge, I eagerly await Ramadan in a parallel universe where, for the first time, I'll hear the call to food and prayer echo through the streets and invite my non-Muslim companions to a Muslim American tradition.
The content of this blog reflects the views of its author and does not necessarily reflect the views of either Eboo Patel or the Interfaith Youth Core.
Ramadan and Fasting in a Parallel Universe
Today's guest blogger is Usra Ghazi, an American Muslim living and working in Amman, Jordan. Usra is a graduate of DePaul University in Chicago, Illinois, and has been involved with the Interfaith Youth Core (IFYC) in a variety of ways, including being a former Board Member, intern, and a participant in IFYC & Jordan Interfaith Action's InterACTION Youth Exchange between Amman and Chicago.
It took me a minute to register the question. In a dimly lit café on the hills of West Amman, in Jordan, for the first time in a long time, I was at a loss for words.
"So, are you Muslim?"
I was meeting an acquaintance of a Christian Jordanian friend. Two years ago, when I visited Amman with Interfaith Youth Core, I met this woman and other Muslims and Christians who formed the Jordan Interfaith Action group. JIA consists of religiously diverse young people who combine interfaith dialogue with community service.
She introduced me as "an American who will be living and working in Amman." By this time, I grew accustomed to the raised eyebrows of those surprised that a short Pakistani woman in a headscarf and modest clothes could also be American. But on this particular night, the eyebrow was cocked and accompanied with a question.
"So, are you Muslim?
"What do you mean?"
"You're American, right?"
"Yes."
"And Muslim?"
"Am I not wearing hijab?"
"Yeah, you are....so you're Muslim?"
I credit old reruns of the sitcom Friends and the immediate availability of the latest Hollywood movie DVDs for the absurdity of this conversation. I've also been told that American women are "loose," that we are devoid of morality, and incredibly fat. It should come as no surprise to readers that as much as Arabs and Muslims are associated with terrorism or backwardness in the U.S., Americans are misjudged in the Arabic-speaking world.
The following week, when facilitating an English conversation club at the language center where I teach, I chose to discuss preparations for religious holidays in Jordan and America. If anything brings religions together, it's the arrival of the Islamic month of Ramadan. This year, it falls on the first week of September. I began by showing a photo slideshow of Muslim Americans breaking their fast on a long rug across the floor of the common room of an American mosque. There were images of families preparing the meal, young women at a college MSA praying side by side, and a photo of our President shaking hands with a Muslim leader for the annual iftar dinner at the White House.
I expected the raised eyebrows, as each picture appeared, and imagined the thoughts running through the students' minds.
"They eat communally, too?"
"Muslim Americans pray at University?"
"They have an 'Eid holiday stamp'? Amazing!"
What I didn't anticipate was the collective scoff, upon seeing President Bush recognize a holiday that millions of Americans observe. Surely, they knew by now that Americans celebrate Ramadan with even more jubilation than Jordanian Muslims!
I won't deny that the resentment stemmed from our President's political reputation, but there was more. Here, in a country where there is a significant minority of Christians--enough to warrant the presence of Churches alongside Mosques--the concept of interfaith bridge building is drastically new.
Although my Christian friend is part of a dynamic group of activists who donate food to various refugee camps for Ramadan, her interfaith experiences in this month are limited. As a Christian, she takes advantage of the deserted streets for calm walks, as masses of Muslims flock home for the sunset meal. That's how I've spent every Christmas for the past two decades. I'm in a parallel universe!
What makes Ramadan markedly different in America is that it truly brings all faiths together. Hindu friends refrained from food in solidarity with me during lunch breaks in high school. I've shared a day of fasting with non-Muslim peers for Fast-a-thon, a charity drive on the campus of DePaul University (and schools across the country). Last year, I was invited to "Iftar in the Sukkah" which celebrated the coinciding of the Jewish holiday Sukkot and Ramadan.
This is a time for the Muslim community to strengthen from within, as well. Contrary to popular belief, we're not just refraining from food. To make the most of the physical fast, we fast from negative thoughts and deeds--from being unkind or selfish. Not eating is a cakewalk in comparison with the spiritual demands of the month. Thus, to look across the table and see the encouraging faces of non-Muslim friends and fellow believers is uplifting. To bless the food in thanks recited in Arabic and Hebrew, in the words of our prophets and faith leaders, is sacred.
In desperate need of a spirituality recharge, I eagerly await Ramadan in a parallel universe where, for the first time, I'll hear the call to food and prayer echo through the streets and invite my non-Muslim companions to a Muslim American tradition.
The content of this blog reflects the views of its author and does not necessarily reflect the views of either Eboo Patel or the Interfaith Youth Core.
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