In Their Own Words: The Ups and Downs of Fasting Abroad

This post was originally published in Aquila Style, 18 Jul 2013.
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Whether by choice or compulsion, sometimes we spend Ramadan away from family. Four Singaporean Muslim women speak to Sya Taha on their experiences fasting overseas.

For most of my life, I have spent Ramadan in my native Singapore. Since my family members have differing schedules, Ramadan was one of the rare periods in the year where we were able to eat together at least once a day.

While many Singaporeans try to spend Ramadan and Eid together, some may have to fast in other countries due to work assignments. Nadia, 27, a young Chinese woman, has experienced fasting a few days each in Hong Kong and Sweden:

The wonderful thing about fasting overseas is the high level of energy and enthusiasm I feel throughout the day, despite the lack of food or drink. Somehow the experience of being in a foreign land assuages any hunger or thirst or lethargy I may otherwise feel.

The variety of women who observe Ramadan abroad mirrors the diverse experiences they have. Syah, 24, a young Malay woman who did her undergraduate degree in Canada, saw her experiences change over the four years she spent in Vancouver:

It was very different from the first year I was here until now. The first year, I was pretty much alone in the dorms. It was winter so the hours were shorter. The dorms had a cafeteria which had this system of giving food from the previous day as the morning meal for those who fasted. But for sahur, I would just eat some cereal since there wasn’t a kitchen. My roommate was really nice and would often eat her dinner when I broke fast so I wouldn’t have to eat alone.

Syah started out rather isolated from Vancouver’s Muslim community, its ethnic segregation making it hard for her to connect. Now engaged to marry a white Canadian Muslim man, she says the difficulties largely persist, despite having eased somewhat:

Now, I’m a bit more connected to the Muslim community for Ramadan since I’ve made Muslim friends. Even so, I still pretty much fast alone otherwise, just with my fiancé because the Muslim community is still pretty rigid in terms of who they accept, [especially] us as an interracial couple. The Muslim community here in Vancouver is very divided along racial lines and there tends to be racial exclusivity in mosques, events, and so on.

On the other, young Malay women who have studied and lived in countries that have similar cultures and customs find a Muslim community that is welcoming. The presence of similar foods also makes for a more comforting Ramadan spent away from home.

Masaini, 29, did her undergraduate degree in Bandar Seri Begawan, the capital of the small nation of Brunei on the island of Borneo. With more than 60 percent of Brunei’s population being Muslim, she found comfort in the similar foods that were available during iftar such as air kathira (a sweet milk drink with coloured syrup and basil seeds), and rice porridge with meat. Despite the similar Malay culture, Masaini found something different in Brunei:

My fondest memory was the Islamic atmosphere and ambience. I could feel the strong spiritual aura that is not present in Singapore.

Likewise, Liyana, 28, who spent Ramadan in Kuala Lumpur while she studied there, enjoyed the widespread availability of air kathira, halal-certified food and the company of Muslim students from the Middle East and African countries like Eritrea:

My friends and I always enjoyed the luxury to choose where to break our fast. The mosque in our campus always surprised us with different types of food every single day. There would always be a pool of students, both local Malaysians and internationals, who swamped the mosque area in the evening, filling up the seats while waiting for the adzan to break their fast. That was when I got the chance to get to know other students whom I had not met before.

Liyana has fond memories of the generosity of student associations in her university who sponsored food for iftars, and warmheartedly recalled discovering a surprising benefactor behind one of these iftars:

My friends and I were on our way to the campus bazaar to buy food for iftar when we were stopped by an Arab man who encouraged us to break our fast at the campus canteen. He told us to sit down while he continued to prepare the food. I saw huge portions of food being served: rice with lamb, salads, desserts and drinks. We were also given a Qur’an each. Exhilarated, I asked the man if he knew who had sponsored this iftar. He told me it was the courtesy of an anonymous Palestinian man. I was stunned and touched at the same time, to think of how much most Palestinians had gone through but that this had never stopped them from radiating blessings in the lives of others. It was a great reminder to myself.

Despite not looking like a typical Muslim, especially with her Chinese appearance, Nadia also points to experiencing the kindness of strangers when fasting overseas:

One of the things I’ve noticed about being a foreigner in a strange land during the fasting month is how warm and welcoming local Muslims always are towards their fellow Muslims who are travelling and fasting away from home. At times I’d even receive offers to break the fast with these locals, indulge in their local cuisines and join in congregational salat with them in a show of shared solidarity for a fellow fasting Muslim. Such occasions are both memorable and precious. I’m very much aware that I may not have been privy to such offers or opportunities had it not been for my status as a Muslim, and the occasion of the fasting month.

Thanks to such overwhelmingly positive experiences, even after all these years, Liyana sometimes longs to spend Ramadan again in her former university, where she had the chance to befriend many women from all over the world:

One of those moments that I truly miss during Ramadan is getting to know women from various countries and cultures in my campus mosque. Most of the married women would bring their children to the mosque, and they would get request any sister in the mosque who was free to help take care of their children while they were doing the tarawih prayer. Every sister would help each other. It was a place for Muslim women to befriend other Muslim women – each had her own story on how she ended up in Malaysia. It was a wonderful gathering of women.

Overall, the experience of fasting overseas was a learning experience for these young Muslim women. Despite the cultural similarities or differences of the places they found themselves fasting, they were able to derive social and spiritual benefits from being with another of God’s many nations and tribes (49:13). While it can be comforting to spend Ramadan together with our family, spending it outside our native countries also brings an array of benefits.

Being an 'undercover Muslim'.

This first guest post comes from Sumaiya, a Dutch Muslim woman living in the Netherlands. We met through mutual friends and I've been so blessed to know her. Right from the first meeting, I felt such a deep connection to her because of the same way we view many things about Islam.

I hope you all enjoy reading her story and keep her (and all other 'undercover Muslims') in your prayers!

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I am an 'undercover Muslim', even though I live in the Netherlands (which they call a very open minded country). I hope I will not be undercover for the next couple years though, but still for now I am.

As a Christian, a lot of things didn’t make sense to me. I had no doubt about the fact there is one God, and no one or nothing else should be worshipped. But a lot of other things just didn’t seem right for me. So when I started working at a place with some Muslims, I discovered Islam.

Getting answers to a lot of questions, I thought: THIS makes sense! After a year of research and a lot of talking with my Muslim friend, this person said to me: "You know what, you are already thinking as a Muslim!" This was an eye-opener for me and it made me scared because I knew this was something for real.

The thing that blocked my way of being Muslim was especially my family. Knowing that Allah guides whoever He wants to guide, gave me a sort of peace. I knew this was the right way, even though I knew my family would be in a big shock when they would find out. And on the first day of Ramadan in 2011, I did the shahada.

My first Ramadan was a special one of course, I just converted and I wanted to fast just like any other Muslim. But then the reality-check came, when my mom called and said, "Let’s have lunch tomorrow". Of course I wanted to fast, but was this the moment to tell her about my conversion? So that’s where I started being (how I call it) ‘an undercover Muslim’.

I had some non-fasting days this Ramadan, while thinking "Next Ramadan will be different, everyone will know and I don’t have to try change dates of dinners with family because I want to fast." I did start telling good friends about my conversion. They responded very well and were understanding, which I’m still thankful for. Alhamdoulilah.

In 2011, knowing Christmas would come, and my mom would ask me to go to church with her, I was planning to tell them about my conversion.

But I didn’t.

My mom didn’t ask me to go to church with her, and we would only have a dinner. I had stopped drinking alcohol a couple of years ago, so not drinking alcohol at dinner wasn’t suspicious for them. Besides that, I never ate a lot of meat so not eating pork or meat wasn’t suspicious for them either.☺

After surviving (that’s how it feels being a Muslim with a different way of thinking than Christians) Christmas, I felt a really strong need to tell them about my conversion before the next Ramadan. It felt so weird not being able to be the person (a Muslim) that you really are in your family. But after a few weeks, I got scared again about their reaction, knowing it would be a sort of drama and a real disappointment.

So I didn’t tell.

Now it’s the third week of my second Ramadan and except for my friends, no one knows about me being a Muslim and fasting. So that means this Ramadan I had to start planning: combining days of my internship with having family dinner, for example. So then I would only lose one day of fasting instead of two. I had only four days of internship left in Ramadan soI decided not to tell them.

Not telling has to do with a couple of things, I know it would be "a thing" when I tell. I don't want people to treat me differently and I was of course scared to tell them. Scared because I know when I tell more and more people around me, my family will have to know it too.

Sometimes it frustrates me, that being a Muslim without the (what Dutch people would say) "standard Arab look" makes it sometimes harder to tell and to be open about it. But what I also know is that being a Muslim with the "standard Arab look" isn't always that easy either.

So let us not complain, but let us talk and pray with and for each other. And as for next Ramadan, I hope I will not be an undercover Muslim anymore….. Inshallah.

Ramadan reflection #4: Changing times.

As I find myself in a different time zone this Ramadan, I realised how much the entire spirit of Ramadan for me in previous years centered around the light, smells and sounds of the equator.

Sahur, or the morning meal, always meant waking up a mere hour earlier than usual. Not long after fajr prayer, you could hear the birds chirping and waiting for sunrise. Since I also left for school earlier than usual, I was rewarded with beautiful red-streaked sunrises from the train platform. Here, sahur is a quiet affair interspersed with sounds from the street of drunk people or cyclists. It's also more than two hours before sunrise, so staying up is an option only if you're going to sleep all day.

At 4 or 5pm there would come my inevitable dip in energy levels and sense of humour, after a full day of school together with walking in the hot tropical sun. I remember being five or six years old with glucose levels at absolute zero (and not much fat reserves to draw upon!) and lying motionless on the carpet in the living room. I didn't want to break my fast and I was probably to weak to make it to the kitchen anyway. But clearly I survived :)

After iftar, or the breaking of the fast, I would have to quickly pray maghrib at home if I wanted to make it to the mosque for tarawih prayers. It was also fun to pick out tarawih-appropriate clothes: the most important being a hijab long enough to also pass for a telekung (a large and long prayer headscarf, often white and much-loved by many non-Southeast Asian Muslims) which had to be pinned down at the back to keep it in place when prostrating under huge ceiling fans.

The air at night is humid, but cooler. Cycling home, there would be crickets chirping and frogs croaking in the grass along the sidewalk. It would only be 9pm or 10pm -- still a whole night ahead for extra prayers or assignments.

There's no doubt that these sights, smells and sounds were part of what it meant to me, to be a practising Muslim then. This Ramadan is so different, in a different house, country, family, climate, and diet -- I am still finding my way to feeling as spiritual as before. Because this is not a religion of nostalgia, and I should be able to find things that make me feel as Muslim as I always have.
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Read other Ramadan reflections here: 
#1 What is abstinence?
#2 Physical considerations
#3 The shortest terawih

Five minutes of fame.

My post describing Ramadan and Eid in Singapore, originally written for Al-Nisa monthly has been kindly cross-posted over at the cool people at Muslimah Media Watch. 

You can read it here. Be sure to also check out the other posts on Ramadan by writers from different countries here!

We're halfway through Ramadan. I hope everyone is finding their own spiritual way in this month!

Ramadan reflection #3: The shortest terawih.

Last week the Dutchman and I were really happy to be invited to break our fast with our friends in Leiden (It gets so lonely in the W-straat you know?) Their parents are Moroccan and along with their other sisters, were still in Morocco for vacation (and Ramadan), because face it, the Ramadan atmosphere here can't begin to compare with Morocco (or even Singapore, sob).

Although the hegemony of a supermarket Albert Heijn is surprisingly tactful of the existence of this holy month. Or maybe it's just because 90% of their evening shifts are covered by youth of Moroccan descent. :)

It was my first iftar Moroccan-style, with dates (of course!) harira soup, popiah/loempia, and hard-boiled eggs. I didn't know it was typical until the Dutchman showed me the Ramadan-journaal on Dutch TV -- they were eating the same things. Haha!

At about 11.30pm we set off to the nearby Al-Hijra mosque, squirreled away in a small road and just like the first European mosque I ever saw in France, it looked just like an apartment from the outside. I still fondly remember that mosque in Bordeaux (and the nice director who let me sit in his chair!), being only 16 and (already) searching for mosques in Bordeaux and in Paris. Which turned out to be educational for my host family as well.


Sitting in the women's section on the ground floor (rumour has it that the men's section is beside and above, but since I never saw it I can't definitively tell you so, haha) at the back, we had what I thought was a couple of minutes before terawih would start. I looked around at the women: one was reading the Quran, some of the older ones were sitting on chairs, and some were giving out murtabak-like pancakes and plastic cups of water.

At that moment, I missed going to the mosque for terawih prayers. Back in Singapore, a few years ago I would faithfully cycle to Al-Istighfar mosque on most nights of Ramadan to endure an hour and a half of sweaty and crowded prayer, makciks telling me to sit closer, cover my feet, pin my headscarf, etc.

But I loved being in a space that I was familiar with, sometimes meeting people I knew (or vaguely knew -- friends of parents or some distant relatives) or sometimes seeing kids dashing across the carpeted floor and falling helter-skelter, unhurt. Even though you had to get there early to get a good spot in the carpeted area within a good distance of a fan (a must in non-airconditioned mosques) or else you'd have to kneel and prostrate on plastic woven tikar (mats) on the hard tiled corridor. Ouch!

I didn't understand most of what was being said in Arabic and Moroccan dialect by a man over the PA system. I turned over to my friend and asked her.

"He's asking for money to build the new mosque. Last night he talked for one and a half hours, I really hope it's not going to be the same tonight," she answered warily.

It was already midnight and it was surreal to be in a mosque! I once stayed overnight for qiyam ul-lail (night prayer) with fellow volunteers in a mosque in Singapore and that felt more like a sleepover than a spiritual experience. It was the same this time around: the novelty of being in a mosque so late at night completely overcame the absurdity of this man talking for one and a half hours, asking for funds.

Finally at 1.00am, after a round of coffee and some gentle coaxing from the imam, this man got off the microphone and the imam started the prayer. He led only 4 raka'at (units of prayer) because it was already late and we left the mosque at 1.30am, passing people on the streets on their way back from Saturday night partying.

For the longest time I ever spent in a mosque, that was the shortest terawih ever!
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P/S: If you'd like to donate to the construction of a new Al-Hijra Mosque in Leiden, the Netherlands, visit their website!
Dutch donors, you can transfer directly to ABN-AMRO 42.16.50.249 t.n.v.: Stichting Moslimgroep te Leiden.
Overseas donors, IBAN: NL70ABNA0421650249BIC: ABNANL2A or contact me by leaving a comment below if you wish to transfer to a Singaporean bank account.

Ramadan reflection #2: Physical considerations.

Another of my Ramadan resolutions was to eat better and exercise a bit more beyond riding my bicycle around -- a resolution that is really aimed at post-Ramadan. I agree with the notion that our bodies are entrusted to us, and we have to keep it working as well as possible, and for as long as possible.

Too often this is overlooked, as we traditionally gorge ourselves after sunset. It's not uncommon for people to gain weight during Ramadan, from the combination of a slower metabolism and the making up for missed calories at the end of the day.

In Singapore, the knowledge of maintaining a healthy body is considered 'secular' knowledge, and nothing to do with our relationship with God. Along with environmental-awareness, this is not considered an important topic to teach our children and youth in religious classes. Religious teachers are also not great role models (at least not visually, if you know what I mean).

So keeping in mind a previous analysis about the ethics of halal, my first step towards this resolution was eating less meat.

Besides, we only have about only 5 hours in a day to eat, so what would help with our digestion and getting up for sahur (pre-dawn meal) with enough appetite?

I wish it were this...my mum's
amazing cooking.
But no.

This is what we ate for dinner this week (sahur was muesli with yoghurt and flaxseed everyday. Except one day when we both forgot to set our alarms -- the tragedy!):

Lentils

Redred (near the fork)

Sweet potato

Day 1: Brown rice, curried lentils, boiled beets, white fish with onions and chili

Day 2: Brown rice, stir-fry broccoli, redred (black-eyed peas with anchovies and tomatoes. Thanks Ellen!), peach and plum

Day 3: Wholegrain pasta with tomatoes, basil and chili; leftover redred; red spinach (Amaranthus blitum) soup with sweet potato; rhubarb cake

Day 4: Brown rice, leftovers: redred, spinach soup, lentils, broccoli; pineapple hangop (the one reason to love this country)

Nasi lemak

Sambal with aubergine

Fried rice

Day 5: Nasi lemak: coconut rice, egg, cucumbers, sambal ikan bilis with aubergine; kangkong (Ipomoea aquatica -- yeah I'm a sucker for Latin names!)


Day 6: Fried rice, chye sim (a spinach/mustard green) soup; orange

Day 7: Andijvie stamppot: potatoes, tomatoes, escarole, hard-boiled eggs mashed together and mixed with soy-protein "sausage"; yellow and orange capsicum stew; cherries, grapes

As it turns out, we inadvertently became vegetarian! (The lacto-ovo-pisco kind at least.) Not eating meat speeds up digestion and makes for lighter sleeping -- really important because it seems we are always sleeping soon after eating (think 10.30pm and 3.30am) so that we won't be too tired or feel nauseated (my main challenge) during the next working day.

We've also tried to keep our physical activity as normal as possible. The Dutchman played squash and went for a run (business as usual, this man!), and we took extra walks in these long summer evenings to feed the birds.

We also tried to eat food grown in Holland or as close to it as possible (I know, I know, those Asian vegetables failed the test). Having made these vegetarian efforts for the first week, we took a break this weekend and ate some good meat as guests at the iftars of the generous Indonesian restaurant Salero Minang, and our lovely friends in Leiden today.

Ayam pop and rendang. Yum!

The good news is the weather is warm with cool winds, which shouldn't make running too difficult. On to the next resolution: running right before iftar in this second week, since now I'm adjusting quite well to the length of the fast. I know that if I can do some light exercise in Ramadan, it'll be harder to convince myself to not to so after Ramadan!

P/S: It might seem like an excuse to post pictures of food, but I promise I had good intentions with this post! :)

Ramadan in Singapore.

This article was originally published in Dutch in "Ramadan" Al-Nisa, Islamitisch maandblad voor vrouwen (Islamic monthly for women), 31st year, No. 7/8, Jul/Aug 2012.

(And recently cross-posted over at the amazing women over at Muslimah Media Watch!)

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I am a Malay Singaporean who has been living in the Netherlands for almost two years now. There are about 1 million Muslims in Singapore and they make up about 15% of the total population. Muslims in Singapore are mostly from the Malay ethnic group (who have similar culture and language to the Malays of Malaysia and Indonesia); however there are also Indian and Chinese Muslims that make up a tiny percentage of Singaporean Muslims.

The Malays have a rich and varied heritage that moulds the Islam found in Southeast Asia. As long as these cultural traditions do not run counter to God in the Qur’an, they are seen as expressions of different 'peoples and tribes' (Qur’an, 49:13). I like the idea that I can find so much in common with Muslims from other countries, and at the same time, inform others about differences in our practices.

As Ramadan moves towards the middle of the Gregorian calendar year, the length of a day’s fast gets longer – at least in temperate countries, while in Singapore, daylight remains consistent around 13 hours a day. A typical Ramadhan day in starts around 4.30am, when my mother and our domestic helper prepared a meal for sahur (usually pre-cooked the night before). We usually ate a simple three-part meal: rice, fish or chicken, and stir-fried vegetables. In the first week, my whole family would get up on time to eat together, but there would always be a day or two towards the end when we all forgot to get up before the adhan for fajr resounded on the radio.

My father likes to prepare dates filled with almonds and rolled in sesame seeds during Ramadhan, and he liked even more to insist that we ate these everyday. He would also remind us to loudly and clearly state our niat to fast, with a phrase in Arabic that we were taught to recite as children: nawaitu sauma ghadin ‘an ada-i fardh as-shahri ramadhana hadhihi sanati lillahi ta’ala (I intend to do the obligatory fast tomorrow in the month of Ramadhan this year, for the sake of God). But I did not know what these Arabic words meant until I was much older!

As we got busier with our own schedules, iftar is one occasion that my family will eat together at least twice a week (and twice a day too). We usually break the fast with dates, imported from Iran or Tunisia, and an assortment of sweet drinks, with a local favourite being air katira: coloured syrup and basil seeds stirred into milk.

Source: airbalang.blogspot

When Ramadan starts, night markets or pasar malam (smaller and more chaotic than the Dutch versions) sprout in the ‘heartlands’ or residential areas, with the biggest one in Geylang -- a historical Malay area of Singapore. Known as Ramadan Bazaars, these stalls sell anything from toys to household decorations for the coming Eid, but they mostly sell food. A lot of it.

Alternatively, one could break one’s fast at a mosque. Here the culinary options are more nutritious and the environment more calm. There are about 70 mosques in Singapore; that’s one in almost every residential quarter, or a mosque for every 12,600 Muslims! A simple, free iftar is provided in every mosque well before maghrib is due. Volunteers start cooking a traditional rice porridge in the early afternoon, which is packed and given out in small plastic bags by the time asar arrives. There is no dearth of volunteers to do all this as everyone is eager to reap the multiple blessings of doing good works during Ramadhan.

Small bowls filled with dates and porridge are placed on a dulang (large communal eating tray), and arranged in the mosque. There are usually two sets of trays: one in the men’s section and one in the women’s section (sometimes there is also a ‘family’ section). Having iftar at a mosque makes it convenient to stay for tarawih prayers after ‘isya. As this is only about an hour after sunset, being there early ensures that you will be able to pray on the carpet (and not on the cold tiles), since the mosque fills up quickly in Ramadhan.

Some Muslims have a preferred mosque, but some also like to ‘jump’ mosques and experience the different atmospheres and tarawih prayers in different mosques. The only thing that stays the same is that mosques experience their fullest capacity during the last ten days of Ramadhan.

Morning Eid prayer.
Source: Author's own.

On the morning of Eid, mostly men attend the Eid prayer and sermon, because women stay behind to cook breakfast, even though the Prophet encouraged both women and men to attend the Eid prayer. And for breakfast, Malays use the main ingredients of coconut and rice to make all kinds of yummy dishes. The ketupat and pulut classics: coconut leaves are woven into a small pillow- or onion-shaped bags, filled with rice, and boiled to create thick rice cakes. And with that comes an entire plethora of meat and seafood dishes cooked with coconut milk, desiccated coconut, chilli, vegetables, spices, etc.

Sayur lodeh (vegetables in coconut milk) and chicken
Source: Author's own.

Forgiveness is the main theme of this day, with the traditional greeting being Selamat Hari Raya, Maaf Zahir dan Batin (lit. Happy Day of Celebration, Sincere Apologies), and this is customarily done by family members in the mornings, and when visiting the houses of our relatives, beginning with the eldest. Once there, the hosts urge us to eat whatever that they have cooked themselves.

This visiting goes on during the following three weekends (until Syawal is over) because 1) Malays have large families, and 2) if Ramadan is a month of fasting, ergo Syawal is a month of celebrating. Small amounts of money (anywhere from €2 to €20) is also given in small colourful envelopes to children and the unemployed, single or the elderly.

Because Arabic words have multiple meanings -- the phrase Eid ul-Fitr can be translated in several ways. One is 'Return to the Original State', which refers to the pure(r) spiritual state one is in after fasting during Ramadhan. It is perhaps this idea of change or renewal that prompts Malays to buy brand new furniture and clothes for Eid. One tradition is to dress up the entire family in the same colour. (Which is certainly a practical tool of identification during big family gatherings!)

Find the ones who belong together.
Source: Author's own.

Is my fast valid?

So in a Malay-language information booklet issued by my neighbourhood mosque for the coming month of Ramadan, I found a series of FAQs on fasting and what nullifies it:

Believers are assured that the fasts of those who use eye-drops and receive injections are not nullified! As for those who suffer from asthma, using their inhalers will also not nullify their fast, according to a fatwa in Singapore, but not necessarily everywhere else.

But this last question just floored me.

Q: What about the fast of someone who sleeps the entire day from dawn to sunset (the length of the fast)?"
A: The fast is valid because sleep is not considered to be a loss of sanity.

Unless you work the night shift, I have serious doubts about the sanity of fasting by sleeping!