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Just what is it like to fast during Ramadan? It's a question many of the UAE's large non-Muslim community have never thought to ask. In an attempt to understand what it takes to fast, four Gulf News writers have taken up the challenge of embracing Ramadan. Track their progress as they share their experiences on this live blog ...
Natalie Long, Friday July 17, 12.42 pm
Eid Mubarak, everyone!
As I write this, I am drinking tea as the sunlight streams through my window. I feel like a rather reckless vampire… I had big plans for breakfast today, something I’ve been thinking carefully about for days. It included a Burj Khalifa-sized pile of banana-walnut pancakes, a plate of huevos rancheros (spicy Mexican eggs with guacamole and corn tortillas) and coffee delivered from a pot as unfathomably deep as Lake Baikal.
It was wonderful, but even the maple butter on the pancakes was not as sweet as the water I drank when I woke up this morning.
Ramadan taught me to appreciate ending my fast each evening, but nothing prepared me for how grateful I would be to drink water in the morning for Eid. What an awesome festival! (Or perhaps I am just easily pleased.)
I’m not sad, exactly, that Ramadan is over, but I’ve always loved this month and now feel even closer to it. When I began, I saw the month stretching before me, a dry desert that felt endless.
I was wrong about that.
Now it’s over, I see the rest of the year in front of me, with less patience and courtesy and understanding and halloumi-bread combos. Please let me be wrong about that, too.
Wishing you all blessings today, and thank you for following us on this journey.
Mick O'Reilly, Thursday July 16, 10.40am
So, I have made it this far. And it should be easier to see this through to the end of the day.
So Natalie, disagree. If it’s Ramadan, it’s Ramadan. No sneaking treats in the office. No eating discreetly. There ain’t nothing like being half pregnant – you either are or you’re not.
Either people observe the rules, which are meant to be in place for all, or we just tear up the rulebook and let people do as they please.
It’s a simple courtesy for a few weeks of the year: Please respect those fasting, don’t eat or smoke in public, and show some respect.
Maybe that is what is with society at large these days. Rules have no meaning anymore. We’ll ignore the ones we don’t like, and follow those we do.
I’ll do a week more of this soon to make up for the lost days because of vacation.
And I’ll do it again next year…. As long as the rules are in place: No public eating, drinking or smoking during Ramadan. Is that too difficult to understand?
Eid Mubarak.
Natalie Long, Wednesday July 15, 4.20pm
I, too, have spotted someone carrying a cup of tea across the office, and not even in the sneaky manner that I have used in the past when I was not fasting. It seems as we get closer to the end of Ramadan, the temptation for fasters to just give up has increased, and the guidelines for those not fasting have become flexible.
And for those of us fasting for the first time, the temptation to get on our high horses has become stronger than ever. Ever met a born-again Christian? They tend to be the most disapproving of all.
Then again, I’m fine with watching others eat and drink. I just gave my team members access to the pile of chocolate that was sent to me by a well-meaning hotel. They’re eating it discreetly at their desks, out of sight of anyone fasting.
The difference is, they’re not walking across the office munching it.
There’s only two days left, let’s see it through.
Mick O'Reilly, Wednesday July 15, 10.20am
You know, just because we’re on the final countdown now to Eid, it doesn’t mean people have to act stupidly.
Just had words with someone who was goofily walking around with a cup of coffee. And when I asked him to kindly return it to the canteen. He looked as me as if I had two heads.
No, I don’t. Yes, it’s still Ramadan. And yes, people are still fasting.
Really? Some people are as thick as a short plank.
Mick O’Reilly, Tuesday July 14, 12.20pm
So, three more days to go before Ramadan officially ends and I can stop this. Or will I?
What have I learnt so far?
I can fast.
I can go without water.
I can have self-discipline.
I can lose weight on this regimen.
I can think of others who are forced to go without food. And water.
Do I feel more magnanimous?
No – just crankier at times because I’m hungry or thirsty. I did agree, after all, to go without food and drink between sunrise and sunset. Was being nicer part of the plan too? I think I missed that bit in the fine print.
I appreciate what Muslims do during this month.
I don’t understand how waking up to eat is good – it just makes me sick.
I’m kinda jealous when I see colleagues who aren’t fasting head off to the canteen for lunch.
I reckon I’ve saved Dh220 so far from not visiting the canteen for cups of tea or snacks. I will donate that and the remainder of any other savings to a charity box at Union Coop on Al Wasl Street when Ramadan is over.
I will appreciate a glass of water anew and in a new light when this exercise is done.
Second thoughts: Maybe I will put the money saved towards that speeding ticket I picked up on Al Hessa Street rushing home to eat.
Mick O’Reilly, Monday July 13, 4.50pm
I’ve just spoken with my co-faster, tabloid! Editor Natalie Long. We’ve been comparing our fasts. Poor girl is staying up half the night and heading to bed about 4am. She looks exhausted, and has developed those blue bags under the eyes that are so common now.
Me? I have adopted to this in my own manner. I eat at Iftar, drink lots of water, and have a snack, usually, yoghurt, fruit and granola, before heading to bed before midnight. I haven’t got bags under my eyes, and am now quite used to the routine. And I’ve lost 3.6kgs since beginning it. I might even continue it after Ramadan. As the days progress, it gets easier.
Natalie Long, Sunday July 13 3.45am
Of course, I made it. There was no way I was throwing in the towel with only five days to go. A late-breaking story on Star Trek 3 being filmed in Dubai managed to snap me out of my funk for a while. And a pre-iftar nap certainly didn’t hurt.
The downside of my success is that it’s nearly suhour and I haven’t slept a wink all night.
Now I’m getting through the emails I’ve neglected in my daytime dopey state, snacking on a smoothie (kale and spirulina... mmm. I am such a sucker for an expensive “health drink”) and following the Greek negotiations live on BBC. My alarm, set to wake me up for suhour, has just gone off as I type this.
I think you all know how this feels: it’s called jet lag. My body clock is now operating at night, and during the day it thinks it should be asleep.
Problem is, I don’t remember having had a blissful holiday on the other side of the globe…
Natalie Long, Sunday July 12 11.30am
Today might be the first day that I cannot sustain my fast.
I’m cracking, right now, and it’s not the little chips in the windscreen that I’ve had before, that I’ve been able to see past.
Today, I’m shattered.
I’m sleepy and struggling to manage my tasks this morning. I want to give up. I don’t want to give up.
Headaches and a lack of focus have marred my days since my return to fasting last Thursday; Friday was one long, slow workday during which I went for multiple walks around the block just to clear my head. That’s the only solution I have come up with right now. I think if I close my eyes to say a prayer, I might fall asleep entirely.
Wish me luck.
Natalie Long, Thursday July 9, 11am
Hi everyone! I’m back from the rainy UK (I managed to miss the “heatwave”) and ready to start fasting again.
Kind of.
Funnily enough, even though I did 10 days with relative ease, last night, while I was guzzling water, I felt a sense of trepidation about restarting my fast.
I wonder if it’s a bit like running – if you want to keep going, don’t stop for a break. You’ll struggle to get going again.
Mick O’Reilly, Wednesday July 8, 10.45am
Yesterday evening I drove over to Abu Dhabi to meet my daughter for dinner. She’s a teacher there. I picked her up at her apartment at Al Reem and we drove over to the Crowne Plaza for some Thai food. I was surprised at how busy the capital was, with everyone coming from mosques at the same time.
Traffic was a nightmare, and it’s thoroughly impossible to find a parking space there. Thankfully, the Crowne Plaza has valet parking. If it hadn’t, I’d still be driving around looking for a parking space. And still fasting overnight. BTW, the food was excellent.
Malavika Kamaraju, Tuesday July 7, 7.05pm
It was past 3.30pm and the meeting room was full of animated chatter this working day. Ideas bounced around and looking at my colleagues, it hardly seemed like they were fasting. Plenty pairs of bright eyes and yards of smiles.
Light bulb moments don’t happen, you would think, when more than 12 hours a day are spent fasting. But that’s the thing: Ramadan has its ways of upending popular assumptions. But not always. Some assumptions will always hit the target.
Like the one that says, set up food tables in gargantuan Iftar tents, throw it open to people and what do you have? The Darwinian theory (hint: it’s got to do with survival) in full flow.
Queuing up to serve myself, I have often felt like I was back on Dubai roads as I am tailgated, cut into, sideswiped, overtaken from the wrong side and sometimes almost driven to the dessert-side hard shoulder. It’s no fun eating Umm Ali before you have bitten into a kibbeh just because you couldn’t get to the right chafing dish.
And there are no radars, no food traffic police, no fines, nothing. Not even for jumping the red light (which is the equivalent of pushing aside the person ahead of you and helping yourself without as much as a sorry).
So as things stand, do I really want to taste the Moroccan pilaf that’s about thirty degrees to the north from where I stand and has a population of a small island milling around it?
I glance over to the grilled veggies, at nine o clock position, but decide that finding parking in Bur Dubai on weekdays would be easier than getting to it as I step out the way of a juggernaut elbow.
And so, after many moments of balancing a nearly empty plate and settling for slim pickings from whatever food station has only a five-deep demand for it, I zig zag back to the designated table, sit myself down, exhale and eat whatever is on the plate.
The food tastes better than it ought to because one fought so hard to get a bit of it.
Am I the only one who wonders: what is it about food and helping yourself to it at dos, that brings out the food rage in us?
Mick O’Reilly, Monday July 6, 7.47pm
I truly can say I have experienced the full meaning of Ramadan.
I got a speeding ticket on Hessa Street rushing home for Iftar.
Malavika Kamaraju, Monday July 06, 7.30pm
‘No, no, I don’t think you should attempt it. Let it be for now.’
That was the doc a while back, gently chipping away at a bit of ground beneath my feet as she responded to my query about being able to fast.
And so, way, way past July 1, the day when my original intention of beginning my fast was pegged to, here I am on July 6th unwillingly subjugating myself to the vagaries of circumstance – medical advice and some strong medicine which have ensured I discard, grudgingly, my earlier intention.
No fasting then. Just a U-turn on a decision made.
It’s not the kind of stuff you want to bring to the table at work but that too is all in a day’s work.
But thwarted intentions are a powerful chisel. They pare down excesses with a vengeance. And so, downscaling of food and water intake is run by instinct. Less is more and it’s not the cliché you think it is.
And so this Ramadan, veering from wanting to fast to non-fasting in a calibrated way, there are lessons I am learning.
One way to push the boundary is to see how long you can go without water. Given that there was no timer I had installed for any of the experiments, and that’s a pity, my estimates could be off for a few quarters of an hour but I think over the last week, I have managed to keep off the H20 for almost till Iftar, having had some water to drink some point after waking up.
Been none the worse for it except for a feeling that a tiny, tiny bit of wax paper is slowly, slowly, sliding down my throat. At an odd angle. But that is only a sensation, I tell myself on the first day. There is no paper stuck in the throat really. That reality helps me swallow the truth smoothly and everything feels okay again.
The lesson here is: You can tell your mind anything you want, provided you know how to tell it.
Obviously, this is no new discovery. But what’s new about the way we are wired, anyway?
Having said that, it’s past Iftar and though I am not feeling really thirsty, there is the matter of the tiny, tiny bit of wax paper slowly, slowly, sliding down my throat.
See you soon.
Mick O’Reilly, Monday July 6, 5.56pm
Another 74 minutes to go and that’s another day done.
Today was hard and I technically could have broken the drinking part as I spent a bit of the day in a hospital.
But I didn’t. Stuck to it. Yayyyy!
Mick O’Reilly, Sunday July 5, 1.24pm
I was speaking to a friend over the weekend who lives in the United Kingdom and she couldn’t understand why I would willingly deprive myself of both food and drink when I am not Muslim. She wanted me to go and make a coffee first thing in the morning, as is my normal routine.
Despite her urging, I did not.
This challenge has become rather personal, and while I don’t have a spiritual aspect in making my decision, it has now become a matter of personal pride and satisfaction.
Look, it’s not easy not having a cup of tea when I want, or having a glass of water.
It has made me think of others who are less fortunate that I – where is their next glass of water coming from.
Surprisingly, it’s rather easy not eating from between sunrise and sunset. I though that would be difficult, given my previously stated love of a good meal. Now, I can pace myself, have a glass of water or juice at Iftar, then eat more substantially up to an hour later.
I also drink a lot of water during the evenings, and that seems to help.
But getting up at 3:30am to eat just doesn’t work for me. If anything, I feel worse the next day after having done so.
The routine is getting easier, though I do still find myself getting chilly as the afternoon progresses.
And no, I haven’t been to any formal Iftars. I prefer my own quiet and more reflective company just now.
Mick O’Reilly, Friday July 3, 4.15pm
In all of the confusion surrounding Greece and to bailout or not bailout, I broke my fast last night with a lemon-basted salmon fillet and a Greek salad. And like the Greeks, I kept going back for more…
Tonight, in honour of it being July 4th, American Independence Day, there’s a ribeye steak and some grilled corn with my name on it.
But all would be traded in now for a cold glass of water. And, for the record, since I started this fasting routine, I’ve lost 2.7kgs in weight.
About four months ago, when Tim Horton’s wanted to launch a new dark roast blend, they wanted to promote it with a skydive. I volunteered, but was bitterly disappointed because my body mass index – the ratio of my weight to height was too high. If I keep going at this rate, I’ll be able to do that skydive soon.
So when you ‘Go Dutch’ over a meal, it means both pay equally.
When you ‘Go Greek’, you can eat as much as you want, come back for seconds, and thirds, and walk away from the bill!
Mick O’Reilly, Friday July 3, 3.56pm
And it’s also a family day, when I’m generally out and about shopping, visiting malls, having snacks or coffees during the day.
But now I find Fridays and Saturdays hard to fill – and the temptation is stronger then to have something to drink or something to eat.
So now I find myself actually visiting bookshops and looking for things to read. I have never read the Quran, and I can see why the faithful would turn to its pages now during Ramadan.
I have picked up The Kite Runner and another on my reading list, The Alchemist, to complete. And if the truth be told, they’re not my normal preferred reading style. But now, fasting, I find myself wanting to read more literary works.
Maybe it’s just that I’m having more time to think.
But with the outside temperature on the car dial touching 42C, I’m still thinking of a glass of water.
So far, I have been fasting for nine days of the 16 days of Ramadan so far, and I’ve only slipped up once, on the third day. And now I am determined to see this through, and will make up those seven extra days lost while travelling after Ramadan ends.
It is a personal goal, if nothing else. My spirit is willing, though my body is weaker.
Mick O’Reilly, Thursday July 2, 1.10pm
And this morning, I woke up at 3.30am and had brown toast and low-fat butter with some low-sugar marmalade. I’m using this fast as an opportunity to start eating better too. I then went back to sleep but, since I woke up this morning, I’m not feeling too good. Might be the travel and the disruption more so than the fasting. Or that overcooked chicken, perhaps?
Mick O’Reilly, Wednesday July 1, 3.59pm
As promised, I intend to fast for the rest of the month.
I had an interesting conversation in the middle of the Malvern Hills in Worcestershire – where that famous Lea and Perrins sauce comes from - with a restaurant manager from Bangladesh. He was fasting, and was breaking his fast at 10.50pm at night, because of the long summer UK days, and was starting at 4am.
He was very pleasantly surprised when I wished him “Ramadan Kareem” in the middle of the English countryside.
And as we spoke, he told me he had worked in Dubai, at both the Burj Al Arab and the Jumeriah Beach Hotel for several years before bringing his family to the UK.
How difficult it must be for him, living in a country where all are carrying on as normal, and adhering to the Ramadan regimen is a matter of personal choice, unaided by shut dining establishments.
I’m finding today not at all uncomfortable – in part, I think, because I’m still groggy from travelling. And I’m actually looking forward to completing the rest of this challenge now.
Natalie Long, Monday, June 29, 6pm
I’m sorry you guys haven’t heard from me for a while. I’m feeling a little sleepy these days.
Yesterday I was almost nodding off at my desk (sorry, boss!). I think it’s because I hosted an iftar at home – and I didn’t even cook it (it was catered)!
So here’s a shout out to all the folks who cook for their family members and friends during Ramadan and probably don’t even whinge about it. Make sure you thank the person that cooked for you today – they were probably fasting, and maybe even working?
Then again, anyone that loves to cook knows that simply watching loved ones enjoy your food is the biggest thanks you can receive.
I love those dinners where everyone eats in silence. No, not because we’ve had another fight about why someone STILL hasn’t repaired the broken toilet seat. It’s because the food is being is enjoyed so much, why waste precious time speaking?
It’s really not an exaggeration to say that cooking for others is one of life’s greatest pleasures – and also provides some of its most nerve-wracking moments.
‘Will they like it?’ you ask yourself. (Also in your mind: I hope I don’t give anyone food poisoning.) That sweet terror increases by ten should you be cooking for a prospective partner – or worse, parents-in-law.
I’ve never had a dinner catered; I consider myself a pretty adept home cook, and despite not having a large family to feed, I have built up such a formidable arsenal of kitchen equipment that the IAEA may want to investigate.
I also always thought it was prohibitively expensive. But I’ve found one that isn’t, and their dessert menu includes the likes of Nutella maamoul and katayef cheesecake.
I hope that’s whet your appetite! Enjoy your iftar this evening, and check back tomorrow for the details.
David Westley, Friday June 27, 10.30am
Today is my last day of fasting. I said I would do one week, and the week is drawing to a close. I will miss it - something I never expected to say when I began.
Aside the first day, I cannot say it has affected my concentration. If anything I feel I have had better focus over the last week, with less distractions, and a lightness of thought that has been something of a revelation.
Where I have slowed down has been in the afternoon, and even on days when I have had energy, I have found my concentration slipping to a focus on movements of the clock rather than the task at hand.
The experience has changed fundamentally the way I see Ramadan. Before it was about inconvenience and odd, irritating rules about when cafes and restaurants could open. Now it’s something more spiritual, connecting me to the place in which I live, and to my brothers and sisters in the office who fast around me. True, I will never be able to truly understand the significance of what they are going through, but I have felt a connection. For a moment, I felt like I shared a journey.
Some lessons I have learned on the way.
- Fasting has been difficult for me not because of the lack of food or water, but because of what that means. I am used to having periods when I pause and think about what I am doing. I do not have that pause button when I am fasting. When I get up to take a break, there is no place to go.
- I have always felt fasting is a personal choice, and it should not matter if people eat and drink around you. I still think this is true, but I would not now be someone who ate or drank in front of someone who was fasting. Not because it affects them, but because, rightly or wrongly, I now see how it reflects badly on me. I do respect others. I should show that.
- How easy something is depends upon your reasons to do something. Humans are capable of incredible things, but there is always a driver, and for fasting, for Muslims, these are faith, community and family - all things missing for a non-Muslim trying to fast. Fasting for me has been about what I cannot do, rather than what I am doing - which makes motivation to continue infinitely harder.
- The best thing about fasting, for me, has been about breaking habits. My worst habit is smoking. Because of fasting I now do not smoke. That is an incredible gift that has been given to me and one I will always be grateful to the experience for.
Would I encourage others to fast during Ramadan? Totally. Not for the whole month, just for one or two days to put yourself in the head of someone else, and experience what those around you are doing and feeling. For non-Muslims it can, no will, change your perceptions completely.
I wish I had done it sooner.
David Westley, Friday June 26, 3.42pm
Last night I went to Tagine at the Royal Mirage. It's a restaurant we have gone to once every year for the last five years to celebrate Ramadan.
Even though we have never fasted, it has been a way for us to join in, in an absolutely beautiful location, and with an abundance and variety of Arabic food - albeit with a North African flavour.
Part of the reason we pick Tagine is not the food however, but the place. We love the richness of the Royal Mirage hotel in general, while Tagine picks up on the accent with its Moroccan architecture, interior design combined of course with its comforting, soulful food.
When you walk into the Courtyard of the Royal Mirage you already feel you are stepping into a Middle East of story books.
The large space is covered and air conditioned during the summer months and the canopy, transparent by day, takes on a pattern of swirling stars at night.
With the stars and the call to prayers comes shisha, Turkish coffee, families playing games and holiday makers quite literally wondering at it all.
You don't need to book to go the Courtyard. Early on it's not busy at all, but is the place for many after Iftar, and later into the night.
A step into Tagine itself is very like stepping into one of the non-descript houses down a side street in Marakkech. It looks nothing on the outside, but on the inside the space opens up into something beautiful.
You are met with a small courtyard with a fountain, and candles - lots of candles. To the right is a small bar (although I have never seen anyone sitting there), while straight on is the restaurant itself.
Whenever we have been to Tagine at Iftar before it has always been busy, so make sure you book. Last night was no different. In fact the only difference was this year I had been fasting, and I was really, really hungry.
The signal that one can start eating comes with the call to prayer, adding to the atmosphere and sense of 'celebration'.
Tagine offers a buffet of starters, and deserts, with two set courses - Harira soup (a very traditional way to break the fast, made from lentils, chickpeas and in this case, lamb) as the starter, and three tagines - one lamb, one chicken and a seafood plate - as a main course brought to your table, accompanied with a plate of couscous and vegetables.
For drinks, water is constantly refilled - so tasty after a day fasting, while fruit juices (watermelon, orange, date juice...) are part of the buffet (all too sugary for my taste).
As a restaurant, Tagine has a mixed reputation for the consistency of the food experience, but the simplicity of the Iftar menu means the staff can focus on what they are good at.
The Harira soup is wonderful, and the perfect way to ease your stomach and palette into the breaking of the fast.
There is an abundance of choice for starters and desert (the Umm Ali and Kunafa Nablousi are just fantastic), and the Tagines, while not mind blowing, are clearly cooked to be healthy, and not sit too heavily on your stomach after a day of fasting. There is little oil, while the jus is flavoured with olives, not dates and honey.
For a special way to break the fast Tagine ticks the boxes.
If you have been good and measured with your eating, sitting out in the courtyard afterwards, drinking coffee and playing cards into the night, would be a wonderful way to close the day.
Iftar at Tagine runs from sunset to 8:30 pm. It costs Dh195, with children from 4-11 eating at half price.
Natalie Long, Thursday, June 25, 5pm
Things I still need to eat during Ramadan.
This month is one of the only times I really make the most of the Arabic cuisine available in the city of Dubai (I’m not counting my all-too-frequent midnight feasts of halloumi saj and hummous with tatbileh at Zaroob).
There are a number of dishes that I only really eat at this time of year, partly because they become more accessible. But yesterday I realised some of my absolute favourite dishes haven’t popped up on any iftars I’ve been to yet. Here’s my hitlist, and where I’m going to look for them:
Kunafa Nablousi
Do not, read, do not, give me that other kind of kunafe – the one with the sponge and the almond embedded in the top. That’s just wrong. Why would you have a wet sponge when you can have crispy golden shredded pastry, compacted together and soaked in syrup, served on top of stretchy, melted cheese. The day-glo orange colour just adds to its charm, as does the bowl of extra syrup any self-respecting buffet has alongside.
Where I’ll be eating it: Firas Sweets on 2nd December Street (formerly Diyafah); Wafi Gourmet
Cheese and meat manakeesh
These “Lebanese pizzas” can be so hit-and-miss – dough at some places is too dry, too flabby, or too sugary. There are two acceptable topping options, and I know this is controversial, but I do not go for the zataar. It’s too dry. There has to be cheese, and if there isn’t melting, super salty cheese (jibneh); then there should be meat (lahme). That’s it.
Where I’ll be eating it: My favourite spot is Al Reef Bakery on Al Wasl Road. I read some reviews recently that pointed out how rude the staff are. Uh, hello, that’s part of it! You don’t go there for a silver platter and a psychotherapy session, people.
Molokhiya: This is one of those dishes that doesn’t look like much (it looks like toxic slime that even the Ninja Turtles would recoil from) but tastes divine. It’s a stew of chicken with molokhiya, or Jew’s mallow, a green leafy vegetable that cooks into a thick green puree, making a tasty sauce for the chicken. Apparently, it was eaten by the ancient Egyptians, and it contains lots of antioxidants, too.
Where I’ll be eating it: Vida Hotel’s iftar has it on the mains menu, though sadly not on the night I went. The Beirut chain of restaurants usually has it.
Shish barak: I first discovered these little delights at the Raffles’ iftar a few years ago. It’s not on many menus, so when I spot it, I devour it in large enough quantities to tide me over for another year. These are little meat-filled pasta dumplings, similar to tortellini, but served in a creamy, tangy yoghurt sauce. It’s the perfect east-meets-west dish, and oh-so-comforting. My mouth is watering as I write this.
Where I’ll be eating it: Khan Murjan, the pan- Arabic restaurant at Wafi, has this one the menu, as well as the similar kebbe bil laban – kibbe in yoghurt sauce. They also have molokhiya.
Natalie Long, Thursday, June 25, 1.01pm
Last night’s iftar was absolutely brilliant.
I went to the Shaikh Mohammad Centre for Cultural Understanding, a non-profit organisation based in Al Fahidi District (formerly Al Bastakiya).
It’s one of the best things you can do as a non-Muslim to take part in Ramadan, short of actually going to someone’s home for iftar (I’m accepting invitations!).
SMCCU puts on a nightly iftar where everyone present joins in a meal of Emirati dishes served in a majlis, while volunteers discuss the meaning and traditions of Ramadan, and answer any (and all) questions. The guests were a mix of expats and tourists, and it was a busy night – we were moved to a larger majlis to accommodate everyone. The dishes sat in the middle of the seating area and the conversation started with an introduction from the volunteers, who ranged from old-timers to university students and even a couple of cheeky high schoolers, all ready to talk honestly about the highs and lows of their fasting that day. Dates, light Emirati coffee and water were passed around and as the azaan, or call to prayer, from the nearby Diwan mosque sounded, we ended our fast.
The hosts then went to pray in an open-sided room next door, and all were welcome to watch and take pictures. The motto of SMCCU is “open doors, open minds”.
Then it’s time for dinner. The food is superb, and there’s plenty of it. (Learn more about Emirati cuisine here)
My highlight was the lamb margooga – described as a “messy lasagne”, it consists of meat, vegetables and gravy with layers of traditional chewy bread, which soaks up the flavours and becomes like a pasta. I had to stop myself going back for thirds.
There were also veal and chicken machboos, similar to a biriyani; chicken and vegetable saloona, a type of soupy stew served over white rice; thareed, a light vegetable stew over ragag bread; and of course, veal harees, probably the most challenging dish for a non-Emirati. Made from wheat boiled with meat until it becomes a very thick porridge, it was a discovery for me that it doesn’t have to taste like wallpaper paste, as other versions have. Nonetheless I only managed a few tablespoons.
Who actually eats harees, I wondered. My guest wouldn’t even touch it. But one of the volunteers, Asma, came and sat with us for a chat, and on her plate were only two things: A big pile of harees, and a pile of a similar dish, madrooba. She ate all of it.
(If you come across madrooba, do try it: Although it’s also meat and cracked wheat boiled into submission, it’s got vegetables and spices, and is really tasty and comforting. It’s a bit like a grown-up baby food.)
After dinner, we walked through the atmospheric alleys of the old district to the mosque, where we sat for a bit of a lecture on Islam and its place in humanity. I’ve done a lot of mosque visits but it was the first time I have been present inside a mosque for the call to prayer. It was wonderful. We returned to the house for dessert – crème caramel, mouhalbia, Chocodates (yay!) and fresh dates (hmm) – and a lesson in Emirati fashions.
Iftar is Dh135. Spaces are limited, and I’d encourage you to book ahead. You can book here.
David Westley, Thursday June 25, 10.10am
It was the first time I have really appreciated Ramadan hours. There was no point staying in the office. I went home, slept, woke up, tried to do some work, but generally spent the time trying not to count the time to 7.15 pm - with not a lot of success.
Some days just seem better than others for fasting, I think largely on how absorbed you are with whatever task you are doing. In the morning it is easier to get stuck into something new. In the afternoon, you need to be focusing on something already to see you through. Mentally it is difficult to start a fresh challenge when you are hungry, thirsty and caffeine deprived.
Tonight I am off for my first real Iftar dinner. Every year we go to the same restaurant so it has become something of a tradition. This will be the first time however I go after a full day of fasting so I am sure it will be even better than previous visits. Hunger is after all the best sauce.
Natalie Long, Wednesday June 24, 1.36pm
I’ve never been so aware of my fullness. Am I stuffed, or starving? Or one of a million points on that scale in between the two, that I am conscious of all day.
While this sounds like a pointless use of my grey cells, it is in fact taking my mind off other more troublesome issues that I have no control over and freeing me from those stresses.
I also know how lucky I am that I can manage the stress of being hungry, because I know I will eat plentifully at the end of the day. Thank God for that.
Just so you don’t think I only love the city’s more sparkly buffets, last night I enjoyed one of the highlights of Ramadan (for me, at least): Ending the fast with many of my Gulf News colleagues in our canteen. Our bosses treated us to Gazebo biryani and tandoori chicken. I piled my plate high with piles and piles of roomali roti and parathas (I am a sucker for breads), dahi vada, fruit chaat and salad, and washed it down with that most delicious of Ramadan drinks – plain old water.
Apologies for the rather unglamorous picture: I am the worst kind of food blogger, in that in my excitement to start eating, I usually forget to take a photo.
David Westley, Wednesday June 24, 11.03am
After a day without food or water, there is a sense that you deserve anything you want, while - especially if you rush to satisfy yourself after prayers - your body, feeling starved and a trifle aggrieved, will encourage you to overeat.
And yet, if you have been fasting, the chances are you will also have had quite a sedentary day and your body will require even less calories than it normally does.
The body does not actually need many to begin with - especially as you get a little bit older. For a male it's about 1800 calories, for a woman about 1400 or so. That is not very much food at all. A burger will cost you 600 to 1000.
As humans we all feel that hunger is in some way bad, but our ancestors did not go around satisfying themselves all of the time with three meals a day and a snack in between. They also did not have access to the abundance of sugar and carbohydrate rich foods.
We have become used to the idea that breakfast is vital, as is lunch and dinner; that this is the healthy way to live.
In reality not only has fasting periodically (without overdoing it at night) been shown to have many benefits, but we would all be healthier if we just ate less. Hunger actually has a biological purpose - regenerating cells, and getting rid of those that are potentially cancerous.
Without wanting to get too serious, but actually most importantly, the world's over farmed ecosystem would be better off too if we all became a little more mature in our relationship with food.
From a 2012 Time article "The amount of land per person has been shrinking over the last 100 years: we now have about a quarter of a hectare per person on the planet [and we are] using half of the total land area on the globe for agriculture." More worryingly is the erosion of top soil - we have, apparently, about 60 years left before it is completely degraded.
"Our modern diet is just totally inappropriate."
This is not to encourage everyone to start fasting. Frankly it is hard. But I do believe we all need to think about food more – not what we’re going to consume, but, in fact, what we’re not.
Mick O’Reilly, Tuesday June 23, 2.30pm
And what ever about the “spirit” of Ramadan?
Deeper insight. Reflection. Acts of generosity. Thinking of others.
I just think about water – and the lack of it. And food – and the lack of it.
Natalie Long, Tuesday June 23, 1.45pm
Fascinating fasting fact #2: Fasting makes the more “senior” members of this blog think more about their grey matter than their grey hair.
That’s got to be a win for society.
(See, I’m really good at this do-gooder thing. By the way, if fasting isn’t doing enough for your grey cells, try meditation. We covered it in last Saturday’s tabloid! cover story. See, we’re smart like that.)
So back to the important stuff, ie, what I had for dinner last night.
If you’re a dessert lover, you can’t miss the iftar at Vida Hotel’s oddly named 3-in-1 restaurant. This iftar offers a tightly edited selection of super-fresh starters as a buffet, a selection of main courses served at your table, and a buffet again for dessert for Dh170 until 10pm.
The starters are really healthy and delicious – a wonderful okra with tomatoes and garlic; beetroof moutabal, and the smokiest baba ghanoush I’ve come across. The soups are light in texture but pack plenty of flavour. For the mains, my favourites were the ouzi lamb was a tender pile of meat atop fluffy spiced rice with nuts and sultanas; and the vegetable saloona stew.
Save space for the family style desserts – dishes of crème brulee, with the thinnest, crispest layer of burnt sugar; an indulgent pot au chocolat; and a wobbly, delightful muhalabia pudding. There are dates, dried fruits and nuts aplenty, and drinks come in cute little bottles that you can help yourself to.
Kids 6-12 pay Dh85 and those under five eat for free. Call 04-8883444.
Mick O’Reilly, Tuesday June 23, 12.58pm
But a promise is a promise. So I’ll stick to it. (Note to self: Don’t agree so easily next time…)
Had a thought… (That’s rare, you might say) … Six months ago I was in the US prison at Guantanamo Bay.
There, there’s a hard core of about 20 detainees who refuse to eat.
Twice a day – every day for some for the past five years – they are physically extracted from their cells, are strapped into a metal chair, have a tube stuck up their noses and down into their bellies, and are then force fed with a liquid protein. That takes 30 minutes to complete, and then they are left sitting strapped in the chair for another 90 minutes, lest they stick their fingers at the back of their throat and self-induce vomiting to void the liquid protein.
So when it comes to this fasting, if those poor guys can endure something like that for their political beliefs, what have I got to complain about?
And, as it’s Ramadan, and I have to be nice -- and that’s hard work – I’m not supposed to swear. But that’s really difficult. Almost as hard as fasting!
David Westley, Tuesday June 23, 11.12am
It's actually quite painful, for me anyway, giving these things up.
Our daily rituals ease us into the morning, and give us coping mechanisms to keep going through the ups and downs of life at home and work. No morning coffee is just plain terrible!
Most of us are not aware that we are repeating these same rituals day in and day out. In fact it's not until you are forced to stop them that you realise you depended on them at all.
To get out of any habit, so I have read, you have to deny an urge about 15 times. Over the course of one month of fasting you're going to be achieving that for just about any habit you have picked up.
This means, in theory at least, after the fast you have a table rase, a clean sweep, allowing you to choose which of your habits to reboot, and which just to kick into touch.
I think that this benefit of fasting, one I had not really thought about before, is a pretty powerful one - I have plenty of bad habits I hope to be leaving behind – although, to be sure, not quite as many as Mick…
David Westley, Monday June 22, 8.11pm
A: Yes, surprisingly you can. Two tips I would give though.
1) Make sure you tell the instructor, so that he or she knows why you may not want to do every move; and 2) try to make sure that when you finish, it is not too long before Iftar. My session finished at 7:00, and I felt like I had invented a way to experience infinity as I counted down the last 15 minutes, staring like a small puppy at other people's water.
After the first day of fasting, I actually feel great and quite upbeat. I cannot claim to have had a particularly productive day at work. I had difficulty focusing in the morning, although things got better in the afternoon. I hope tomorrow will be even better.
I didn't really feel hunger, but then I don't really eat during the day anyway. I didn't feel uncomfortably thirsty either. Coffee and cigarettes were the two things that really nobbled me... but that should get better day by day as I retrain my body. Inshallah.
Anyway, just a short post now. I have broken the fast with water, two espressos (mmmmm) and a couple of dates, but now the hunger is kicking in and I need to east something. Until tomorrow.
P.S. Quick note to Mick - fasting regenerates the grey matter you have. But you need to have some in the first place to regenerate.
Natalie Long, Monday June 22, 6.17pm
I found today, the first day of my work week, a struggle.
Some of the novelty of fasting has worn off, and now Ramadan looms in front of me, as stretches of time to wade through towards eating and drinking, and then more time as I count down to when I have to stop again.
As my fellow blogger Mick mentioned, we are missing out on the main reason Muslims fast, and what makes the fast bearable, even welcome: the immersion in faith and family. I’m not a Muslim, so I really have to find a way to make this fast meaningful.
One way I am trying to do this is to be a generally nicer person to everyone around me.
While I know it’s not the point, it even makes me feel better – it’s like the first day back from holiday, when I haven’t had to deal with problems and every phone call and email is a new beginning. A little glow.
Don’t worry, old friends; I’m not going to start posting motivational posters of sunrises and waterfalls on Facebook. But I just might start “liking” things more.
Mick O’Reilly, Monday June 22, 4.25pm
No way, Jose. Fasting makes you grumpy, your stomach grumble, your nerves testy. Brain sharper? No. My brain just keeps thinking of water and food. Ok, maybe food, then water. But that’s it. Maybe I’m not too sharp after all…
Mick O’Reilly, Monday June 22, 3.35 pm
But I still find that I’m having problems regulating my body temperature. I’m cold, and need to step outside into the 40C heat just to warm up. Strange. Out of the frying pan of the office into the fire outside. Frying pan… please, that reminds me of food.
David Westley, Monday June 22, 3.11pm
While I really hope this is true, neural health being jolly important and all that, I am finding it at total odds with what I personally am going through. I have managed so far to remain calm, positive and friendly through the day, but a thick layer of fog sits between me and anything I come across. I am also fighting a headache caused by the lack of coffee.
BDNFs are not the only BFFs of fasters, however. Apparently “short-term fasting induces profound neuronal autophagy” which basically means “self-eating”. While this may sound like the brain goes full Zombie, autophagy "is the process by which cells recycle waste material, downregulate wasteful processes, and repair themselves".
Put simply, there is no pain without gain and, mentally, one of the gains of my fasting seems to be that I am going to come out of this like Stephen Hawkings crossed with Albert Einstein, all the while retaining my James Bond style sophistication and good looks. Shaken, stirred, and completey deranged? Well, maybe...
Mick O'Reilly, Monday June 22, 11.30am
David Westley, Monday June 22, 10.37am
As it is, I see my Muslim colleagues happily going about their business, and realise it's how you take the fast. I am trying, as best as I can, to see it as they do. I am also trying to be nice, kind and good. This morning on the way to work, I generously made space for people to change lanes, not once but three times in about two minutes - really, really annoying the cars behind me in the process. Get with the program people!
Still, early days. I have only been fasting for two hours, thirty four minutes and six seconds. My insights are presently limited to feeling a bit thirsty and realising that without a coffee, people can be a bit irritating. I am also at a bit of a loss as to what to do when I want to pause and take a break. There is not really much point getting up from my desk at all.
Productivity up during Ramadan? Now that would be an unexpected finding.
Natalie Long, Sunday June 21, 5.00pm
Fasting is the best of times/the worst of times for food-enabled procrastinators such as myself.
Without the option of “let me make another cup of tea first”, I get a lot more work done.
There’s not much to hide behind when you can’t break for food, tea or cigarettes, which is how yesterday I got a story written in record time.
Today I tackled a big cleaning and clearing out job at home, inspired by my new suhour reading material, Japanese “expert declutter” Marie Kondo’s The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying. (It’s one of this year’s bestsellers, and I had to get it on order at my local bookstore, it’s that popular.)
(Note: I only bought it to reinforce my belief in my own tidying abilities. But I still managed to find a few things to give away.)
Now?
I am utterly parched. My mouth is drier than the swimming pool at a bankrupt Greek hotel.
My head is also pounding. Bring on iftar.
Mick O’Reilly, Sunday June 21, 2.50pm
How could someone purposely deprive themselves of food and water – with no break overnight – makes me wonder.
People like hunger-striker Bobby Sands. How he could and lived and died like he did. Now I’m getting the slightest indication -- ever so slightly.
Sands was an IRA man who was jailed in Northern Ireland for terrorist activities – or freedom fighting, depending on your point of view.
What’s not in dispute is that for 66 days, he did not eat nor drink, starving and thirsting himself to death, as part of a calculated campaign to highlight conditions in Northern Ireland prisons. The key focus was for those held on what British authorities deemed to be terrorist activities should actually be categorised as Prisoners of War – that the crimes committed were politically and not criminally motivated.
Throughout Irish history, hunger striking has been used as a powerful political tool, forcing British rulers into making tough choices. From 1917 – while Britain was at war on the Western Front – 12 Irish Republicans starved themselves to death up to the time the present-day Republic of Ireland gained its independence in January 1922.
Whether it’s a throw back to the psychological impact of the Irish Famine of 1845-47, where the Irish population was halved from 8 to 4 million through starvation and forced migration, food has been used a powerful political prop.
Hunger-striking is a powerful tactic, and self-deprivation of all water and food has a quick and painful effect on the body. Mahatma Gandhi took a page out of the Irish playbook and embarked on a series of hunger strikes – though Gandhi did drink juice and water, refusing solid food.
Sands was the first of the Provisional IRA hunger strikers to die in 1981, and was quickly followed by three more. He was also elected a member of the UK parliament in Westminster while on hunger strike. And after he died, another hunger striker was nominated and elected to fill his shoes, piling international pressure on then Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher.
But that is a history now in a land with too little geography, and those dark days are best confined to memories and books.
On a lighter note, as a young reporter back in Ireland, I recall a senior and seasoned journalist coming back into the newspaper office with a then-astronomical lunch bill of 45 pounds, and the Editor-in-Chief quipping as he begrudgingly approved the expense: “Who’d you have lunch with? Bobby Sands?”
Mick O’Reilly, Sunday June 21, 1.50pm
It’s wrong. Just wrong. I’m just saying…
Mick O’Reilly, Sunday June 21, 12.40pm
I drank a cup of coffee yesterday. That was my routine. Never gave it a second thought. Brewed up a nice fresh pot, medium roast, and sat down to read the newspaper. That’s my regular weekend morning routine.
And I slipped back into it without a second thought.
“How’s your fast going?” I was asked yesterday in the office.
I had to sheepishly admit I fell off the wagon, and followed a morning routine without a second thought.
Today, however, I’m fasting – stomach gurgling and all.
This is much harder that it seems for some one who looks like I haven’t missed a meal in years.
So, I’m sorry. I’m only human after all. And this fasting required more dedication and preparation that I was really aware of – and for that I’m impressed by the determination and practise that Muslims display during Ramadan. I admit, I never appreciated it before.
That’s one thing to emerge from this exercise so far.
Natalie Long, Saturday June 20, 8.55pm
On the menu, a rocket, peach, bresaola and buffalo mozzarella salad. Yep, just one course, no buffet in sight. But there is a box of chocolates in reach.
This morning was not such a happy time. Waking up, what did I see but the sun streaming through the window onto a FULL glass of water. Suhour came, I woke up, briefly considered making porridge, and went right back to sleep. Now I’m thirsty.
Another challenge today: Declining an invitation to my favourite South Indian lunch. After that, sitting with a friend as she scarfed down two plates of biryani didn’t seem so hard.
I spoke with a fasting friend recently, who told me, in her experience, the point of fasting is not to tell everyone about it (ok, so I’ve failed that one), and to carry on your life as normal -- even if it means having someone drink a cup of tea in front of you or chow down. Part of what we’re doing is dealing with that temptation, and overcoming it.
I think I’ve successfully managed a lot of temptation today. But I don’t know how that box of chocolates is going to fare tonight.
Natalie Long, Friday June 19, 4.20pm
I decided to go very easy on my stomach at Suhour and have a smoothie that at least sounds very healthy: It’s one of Wild and the Moon’s cold-pressed drinks called Liquid Motivation, with fresh berries, dates, almonds, chia seeds and bittersweet cacao nibs. It’s delicious and has kept me going all day – and that includes going to the gym this morning.
While I understand it’s best to do a workout just before Iftar (when you don’t have to wait quite as long to quench that post-sweat thirst) I had a regular barre class booked for 11am this morning and I would not miss it. (I am, apparently, the second worst in the group for missing classes, a dubious honour that I hope to relinquish).
I’ll confess to only doing 35 minutes of the 60-minute class. I could easily have gone on for the whole thing. I was full of energy and did all my weights, ab exercises, even the dreaded “slingshot” that’s a killer glutes move. But I was becoming thirsty, and mindful of a full workday ahead, I quit before I sweated out all the hydration I’d taken in the night before.
I’ve learned my lesson the hard way: Tonight’s Iftar will begin with sips of water and dates, another juice (celery and fennel, no fruit) and probably that half-hour interval I mentioned in an earlier post.
Mick O’Reilly, Friday June 19, 3.20am
“So Mick O’Reilly, how are you?”
Good, I replied. And then more questions one after the other before I can answer. But he does offer one kind bio of sage advice: “Yanni, it’s the weekend. Stay up as late as you can and eat before you go to bed. Then you can sleep late.”
I follow his advice, struggling to keep awake on the sofa watching the History Channel. At 3am, I’ve had enough. Back to the fridge and another yoghurt, berry and oatmeal parfait before calling it a day and a night.
Mick O’Reilly, Thursday June 18, 7.16pm
What I find strange is that for the past two hours, I cannot get warm. My hands are cold – nothing to do with the air-conditioning at Gulf News – but my internal temperature controls.
My hands have visibly shrunk too, as if my fluids and blood supply have withdrawn to my core.
Natalie Long, Thursday June 18, 7.54pm
My first iftar of Ramadan 2015 is at the massive tent in Downtown Dubai, which has views over Burj Khalifa and some very pretty decor. My highlight? The moist mini date puddings. On Thursdays, they add a station from Asado, the Argentine restaurant at The Palace; on Fridays it's Thai from Thiptara.
Malavika Kamaraju, Thursday June 18, 5.46pm
Hello, I am Malavika Kamaraju, Features Editor with the Nation Desk, Gulf News. I solemnly raised my hand at one of this week’s morning editorial meetings when the idea for volunteers for Ramadan fasting by non-Muslims was put out there. I signed on and entered the countdown zone. My days of fasting begin on July 1. Six days to begin with. And then we will see.
Six days at a stretch should be doable, I tell myself. After all, I have fasted before. On and off. One-day fasts, the kind that began as soon as you rolled out of bed, mistakenly switched on the kettle to boil and realized with a shudder that the morning cuppa was not on the day’s itinerary. No food, no water, no fruit juice or herbal tea even, even though the latter two usually always clamour for special status in these circumstances. The fasts were easy or not depending on how well you had trained your mind that day.
When the sun slipped over to the other side, many fasts ended with a steaming bowl of khichdi (rice and lentil stew, lightly spiced with cumin and glazed with ghee) or some such simple dish. Other times, reaching the finish line left me with an appetite that I told myself I should be ashamed of.
Some fasts were linked by weeks between them, others by years. But rarely have my fasts been linked by consecutive days.
And so I await July 1.
Natalie Long, Thursday June 18, 4.42pm
Thankfully for us hard-working journos, a few places give us an iftar preview – so that we can write reviews early enough for readers to book and go.
Last night, true to my promise of finding some unique Iftar offerings, I had a three-course meal in an art gallery – served from a food truck.
The Ghaf Kitchen’s Citroen H van is parked inside the lofty A4 Space at Al Serkal Avenue – the arts hub in Al Quoz.
It’s made for Instagramming, with drinks served in Mason jars with pretty striped straws, picnic tables under fairy lights and lentil soup in a Thermos, drunk from little tea cups.
There are board games and free “sun-themed” film screenings by Cinema Akil, 7 and 9pm, Wednesday-Friday. This week’s film is Russian-Japanese co-production Solnitse (Sun) – which refers to Japan’s Emperor Hirohito.
Dessert (Dh25) is creamy Eton Mess; a trifle burger (a brioche bun filled with custard and jam); and lemon meringue pie.
You can simply walk in or book head on 056-3933712.
Natalie Long, Thursday June 18, 4.24pm
Me to a Pakistani colleague: “When does Ramadan start in Pakistan?”
Him: “Tomorrow.”
Me: “So do you start fasting tomorrow, then?”
Him: “Uh… no. I’m fasting today, like everyone else in the UAE.”
Me: DUH!
Mick O’Reilly, Thursday June 18, 3.42pm
But I also saw some one else drinking at the water cooler in the office pantry. I wanted to call him out on it. Actually, I really just wanted to mug him and take the water.
Everyone keeps telling me that there’s a spiritual side to this Ramadan fasting. I guess there is… I wish some one would spirit me a glass of water.
Three hours and 32 minutes…
Natalie Long,Thursday June 18, 3.33pm
End the fast sloooooowly, says my editor-in-chief Abdul Hamid. Start with a date, then soup, then take a half an hour break (an interviewee I just spoke to gave me the same advice).
A half-an-hour break seems challenging, given that many iftar buffets wrap up after an hour-and-a-half. I’ll let you know how that goes after I end the fast tonight (3 and a half hours, and counting!)
Don’t chug water at suhour. My lovely Abu Dhabi colleague Sarah Dia texted me to recommend yoghurt instead, with cucumber or blueberries, to provide extra hydration. That’s on the shopping list now.
Please do share your tips on how you fast, and especially your suhour meal ideas!
Mick O’Reilly, Thursday June 18, 2.10pm
Look, I’m grumpy. I'm fasting.
Don’t bother trying to be chirpy. It’s not working. The only thing that will work right now is a big glass of water and some food.
And I’ve sworn six times today so far. And I swear I’d kill for a drop of water. My head is getting dopey. Yes, before you say it, dopier than normal.
Five hours and four minutes to go…
David Westley, Thursday June 18, 1.25pm
But I am not cheating. My fast begins on Monday - I am playing tag team with Mick who travels from Tuesday.
As an introduction, I am the manager of Gulf News online, responsible for this site. I have lived in the Middle East, on and off, for 18 years and love it. I consider Dubai home. However this will be the first time I actually, really get involved with its most important event: Ramadan.
Until this year, I have measured the success of my journey through the thirty days of the holy month by how successfully I have been able to build a life where I do not notice it.
I am clearly not alone. Restaurants open during Ramadan has been one of the most popular articles on site over the last week.
The bonus has been benefitting from all that is good at Ramadan.
Over the years it has become something I look forward to - a shift from considerable initial irritation (largely due to restrictions over smoking) to an appreciation that there really is something different about Dubai during Ramadan.
As a non-Muslim, it's hard to pinpoint what that is exactly, but the hard edges of the city do seem softer. Life, whether you are fasting or not, seems gentler. People seem less rushed (except the very un-Ramadan-like road rage displayed each night) and there is a richness and depth to the city that does not exist during its other 11 months.
It does help that this has, traditionally, been a time people have left the city, leaving those that remain more time, and more space to appreciate it.
Why did I agree to really get involved this time? Unlike Mick, while I am not on a spiritual journey, I am always looking. I don’t think it is possible as a non-Muslim to fully appreciate this side of fasting. The spirituality here is, I believe, very related with an individual’s connection and communion with Allah, and I am not sure I will ever truly understand how that works.
I am, however, attracted to the idea of something bigger than us, and the self reflection involved in trying to be positive, to not think bad thoughts, and in giving more time to listen to one self and others. Given the speed of modern day Dubai, I could do with a bit of that.
More selfishly, at 45 it's time I gave up smoking. Announcing to the world you are doing so is a pretty good way to begin. I'd rather not crash and burn so publicly.
Finally, while I have never understood the idea of putting yourself in the shoes of those who are less fortunate as a means to drive empathy (shouldn’t you just have this?), it will be interesting to see if it does feed a greater understanding and awareness of my fellow man.
But we will see.
On Monday in fact
Mick O'Reilly, Thursday June 18, 12.25pm
The outside temperature on the Jeep driving to work said it was 40C. My head is starting to gather the first clouds of a headache, and my mouth is dry. I am relishing every suck of saliva.
Some one left a half-drank glass bottle of Voss water on the main meeting desk in the Gulf News newsroom. Cruel. I threw it in a bin in a fit of disgust.
When I showered this morning, I was tempted to swallow some hot water. I didn’t. And then brushing my teeth, I was tempted to rise a little extra. I didn’t. This is harder than I thought.
Natalie Long, Thursday June 18, 3.45am
Thanks to the advice of my fellow blogger Malavika, I have a bowl of oatmeal porridge ready to be microwaved on the countertop as my alarm goes off at 3.45am on the first day of Ramadan.
I’m so chuffed with my organisational abilities (there’s also a cut-up apple!) that, once the mystery of why my alarm is going off in the dark finally clicks in my sleepy head, I get up and bask in the glow and whir of the microwave.
See, I’m feeling peaceful already.
My mind is ok with this.
My body, not so much.
‘Why,’ my stomach cries out, ‘are you giving me apples before dawn?’ I do get through most of a large bottle of water, through terror of being thirsty later in the day, and reach the final chapter of Far From The Madding Crowd. (Does Bathsheba marry Oak? Tune in tomorrow before Fajr to find out!)
Feeling rather bloated, I attempt to sleep again. ‘Ha ha!’ is the reply from my befuddled tummy. ‘Good luck with that, you cruel master’.
Mick O'Reilly, Thursday 18 June, 3.20am
What time is my flight? I am confused. The alarm on my phone is ringing. I haven't packed. Wait a minute, where am I going. Sleep is hard to shake and consciousness is but a dream. Canon, one of the two cats, meows. That sends Kodak off and the two start to race. (No, they are not sponsored by camera companies; it's just that people said we couldn't call them Wahid and Ithnan when they were foisted on us by a human resources manager friend who did a runner from Dubai four years ago. He couldn't manage his feline resources).
Then it dawns on me. I have to eat before dawn.
I plod sleepily to the kitchen and try and shake the cobwebs from my head.
I am indebted to Greek-style yoghurt, Dorset granola and fresh berries. I have visions of falling asleep into the bowl and being found days later, a mystery to police. The cause of death was asphyxiation in yoghurt and fruit – a parfait crime, as it were.
The newspaper hasn't been delivered yet.
And now I've been told I have to drink lots of water. I can't. I settle for three glasses of milk, the third fighting to get all the way down.
I am waking up more. But please don't let that happen. Bowl and glass to the dishwasher and back to bed.
Through the balcony doors 17 floors up, it's still dark.
This isn't a bad dream, is it?
Natalie Long, Wednesday June 17, 6.02pm
My first Ramadan in Dubai, nearly nine years ago, found me eager to fast and embrace the culture of the nation I had decided, on a bit of a whim, to move to.
I failed quickly.
Not because I lacked willpower, but because I didn’t know many people yet, and having Iftar in front of the TV with a take-away seemed to defeat the purpose of this time of family and togetherness.
Now, I have a couple more friends (and better taste in food) and I’m going to give it another shot, partly because I can’t refuse a challenge.
I also can’t refuse a piece of cake, which is why we celebrated a team birthday today rather than next week. Today I also celebrated my last lunch for the next month – with a large meat pizza.
Food is what I am all about, so as I spend my time fasting, I will be planning my evening meal with glee. This year has seen an explosion in the number of independent restaurants offering iftar, and I’m excited to go beyond the usual ballroom set-ups and seek out the unusual, special and unique. Don’t worry buffet fans, I’ll throw a few of those mega-meals in there too.
I’m also on a bit of a health kick, so I’ll be speaking to my gym trainer and some super-food geeks to find out the best way to fast and not completely destroy my exercise routine or metabolism.
I’m aiming to do the full month – a long weekend in the UK excepted – and will have Suhour before dawn. The good news: I gave up smoking two weeks ago, and I’m sure a month will help solidify that good habit.
As for finding peace – I’m always up for it, but I think it’s my team (they confess they are a little worried about how fasting will affect me) who might be praying the hardest this year.
Mick O’Reilly, Wednesday June 17, 5.14pm
But now, with Ramadan here once again, I’ve decided to embrace it -- not chase it away.
I am fasting.
I might even self-reflect.
And as a hot-head Irishman who speaks too often before thinking, not swearing will likely be as difficult as not having my regular daily intakes of breakfast, lunch and endless cups of tea during the working day.
Instead, I’m setting my alarm for 3.15am and waking up to eat to set me up for the rest of the day.
Let’s also be clear: I’m not a religious person. Yes, I do believe in a God, but not of the kind that was beaten into me by Irish nuns, not-so-Christian Brothers and obstinate Oblate priests of 15 years of formal Catholic education.
Is this fasting now for Ramadan a spiritual search? I don’t think so. I think I’m too cynical for an epiphany or realisation now after 54 years. Having said that, I did book myself in to walk 115 kilometres of the ancient Camino trail in October. It’s a path trodden by pagans and pilgrims for thousands of years. Searching for something? I honestly don’t think so – it’s just a challenge on a bucket list I’ve wanted to get started on for a lot of those 54 years.
I’m starting with six days of fasting. I have holiday booked for six days later in June – like I said above, strategically booked holidays and absences from the Middle East to avoid Ramadan. But I admit that I would have like to try to do the full month of fasting.
I have vowed that I will resume the fast for the rest of Ramadan when I return on July 1.
And I’ve warned the staff in the Gulf News canteen not to serve me if they see me there, hankering for a drink or snack.
I will stop and shop on the way home and stock up on nuts and fruit, yoghurt and water.
I’m already dreading that alarm clock at 3.15am.
