One Ramadan in Paris

Ask me to diet, and I won't last a day. I have neither the will nor the inclination to follow through after the initial thought of launching into one.. With Ramadan, however, abstinence comes easy. It’s like a different operating system takes over and I can observe the entire month of fasting without issue.

Still, one year, I found myself conflicted. I had learned about a 6-week summer programme in Paris, which was a total dream, except for the timing.

To appreciate the conundrum, during Ramadan, Muslims observe strict fasting from dawn to sunset. Since the Islamic lunar year is shorter than the solar year, each year Ramadan falls on different months of the standard Gregorian calendar. In 2013, the holy month would start in July. Therein lies the problem.

Ramadan is meant to stretch Muslims. It wasn’t the lack of food or water that caused me to pause. Coming from an equatorial country, where the days and nights are generally equal in length, a day of fasting lasts under 13 hours. In Europe, however, the sun wouldn’t set until nearly 10 pm. Taking the plunge would mean fasting for 17 hot and long hours. The picture of a starving artist comes to mind. I sat on the fence for weeks.

As I deliberated, I prayed for rain, heavy clouds or unusual wind activity to alleviate the heat, preferably daily. A quick look online revealed the weather prediction for the said month - ‘Expect long, hot summer days with plenty of sunshine’.

Quelle horreur.

Now or never

Intellectually, I knew the body could cope. In my heart, I knew I could get through this. Yet, I hesitated. Mere days before the registration deadline, though, it dawned on me that if I didn’t go that year, I never would, and it was a challenge that could potentially lead to personal and spiritual growth. Plus, as a coping mechanism, I could always take a quick daytime nap.

Despite the daunting prospect, I signed up, paid what was due and resumed praying for rain.

Meeting the community

Arriving in Paris, I remained hesitant but couldn’t help being swept up by the romance of finally taking up temporary residence in the French capital and the excitement of the upcoming programme where I can write and make new friends. It was a bundle of dreams coming true.

On the first day of July, at the academy, I met the cast of teachers and teacher’s assistants. They were all American, bar one skateboarding aficionado from Sydney, Australia. Most of the students were Americans, our ages ranged from late teens to over 60 and I was the only Muslim.

The head of the programme was an accomplished travel writer by the name of Rolf. I told him that I would be observing Ramadan partway through the course. In response, he offered to announce it during orientation so people from the group would know not to inadvertently tempt me with food.

Why, thank you. That's very kind.

Equally considerate was when a teacher's assistant by the name of Powell, a gregarious blonde from Hawaii, suggested that the group claim one day to keep me company and try out fasting for themselves. She started a thread on our Facebook group page so that anyone who was up for it could make a public declaration of their commitment.

A hiccup of a start

Powell kicked off the adventure by claiming July 10th, which ended up being the first day of Ramadan in France. It wasn't supposed to be that way.

Earlier that year, for the first time, the country’s Muslim leaders revolutionised their approach to determining the start of the fasting month. Traditionally, they relied on the naked eye to sight the new crescent moon. This signals the start of a new month. However, this method relies on factors such as good weather conditions and consensus. Many countries opt to pre-determine the start date of Ramadan by using scientific calculation since setting it in advance simplifies schedules for work, school and festivities.

On the eve of the chosen date, however, the new moon wasn’t sighted, causing teething problems with this new approach. Muslim groups were divided as to when to start their fast so in the end, they decided not to. Oblivious to this, I performed the Ramadan on the agreed-upon 9th, only finding out about the shift 2 hours before sunset. After confirming with three other newspaper reports, I broke my fast.

In time, I would learn that it would have been good for me to continue fasting that day, if only to perform sunnah (something that is recommended because it was known to be practised by the Prophet Muhammad), as opposed to obligatory fasting.

Exploration and discovery

This interesting beginning and other anecdotes were shared with the writer's group. Some asked for the specifics to shed some light on this routine which, for them, was largely mysterious. So, I specified the basics - no food, no drinks, no coffee (because coffee is a category of its own), no cigarettes and no sex from 3:30 am to about 9:55 pm.

Having lived some time abroad, this wasn’t the first time that friends have joined me in the fasting fun. It was touching all the same when throughout the course 8 signed up to become fellow fasting travellers.

Such commitment was often preluded by conferences on survival strategies: have a colossal dinner the night before, get up around three in the morning to drink copious amounts of water, stay in bed for as long as possible and wash your face several times a day. The last tip was from another well-travelled member of the party, who asserted that if you're lucky, a little water would sneak into your mouth. The intention of fasting would mean to be tested at not just the physical level, but mental and emotional, as well, so I recommended my fellow writers to do their best, whatever that may turn out to be.

Other questions the group had: Do children fast? Would travelling across time zones make someone fast for 24 hours? Could they drink if they felt a little faint and continued once they were OK?

I gave it my best shot: No, young children don't have to fast. Travellers are not obliged to either but if they could sleep throughout the flight, why not? And for a Muslim, drinking on purpose would break the fast and they would have to reimburse it. But small children sometimes start by training with half-day fasts, so let's say there were kids.

Of course, Ramadan is a lot more than a list of ‘what not to do'. Thanks to the interest and curiosity around Ramadan, it was not all up to me to share what gifts lay beyond the surface. Lauren, a teacher's assistant from San Francisco posted an article on the case for intermittent fasting; Rolf shared The Atlantic's collection of beautiful Ramadan photos from various parts of the world; and friends who fasted during the day had plenty of company with whom to break their fast (who turns down suppers in France?)

Some experiences were unique to Paris. For example, while keeping friends company during lunch, a waiter prepared for Powell some cutlery and a serviette. Powell had chosen that day to fast. Finding out that she wasn't having anything, not even to drink, the waiter became quite annoyed. French waiters take their craft very seriously, so when visiting a restaurant while fasting, give your waiter a heads-up to save both of you the trouble.

There were interesting personal discoveries, too. Nikki, a Singaporean-based Filipina, experienced a tummy grumble in the morning, which she ignored, and diminishing map reading abilities by evening time, which she couldn't ignore because we got lost. New Yorker Amanda reported becoming slightly blind in the late afternoon, a temporary affliction which was cured by crepe. Elisabeth from Vienna had trouble choosing between a day when she has lots of work or one when she has lots of reading. She opted for the latter, since it meant she could hole up at the iconic Shakespeare and Company bookstore without worrying about toilet breaks and having to leave her belongings unattended.

The bold, favoured

Those who gave fasting a go found that Ramadan in the summertime wasn’t as bad as we thought, not even on the day that the temperature hit an all-time high of 36°C (I played the quick nap card). For all involved, the experience turned out to be less about coping and more about unexpected joyful discoveries and deepened understanding. Sometimes, it’s the adventures we least expect that cook up the most delightful tales.

By the way, it rained twice.