Ramadan

It is Ramadan this month. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this tradition, Ramadan is one month every year when Muslims fast during daylight hours. Lucky me, they also expect everyone else to fast, or at least appear to be fasting. In reality, I've met several Muslims who do that very thing: they take on the appearance of fasting in public, but eat in private.

I usually need to eat more than three meals a day and I’m practically famous for my ever-present glass (or bottle) of ice cold water. I’m always eating or drinking something. So this Ramadan thing is definitely a shock to my system.

Since I am not Muslim, I obviously do not observe Ramadan. But I’ve not been eating or drinking in public out of respect for those who are fasting from sun-up to sundown. I also have heard that one can be harassed by angry Ramadan observers if one eats in their presence. So, I’ve been doing it out of respect, and to prevent harassment. Prior to today, I’ve been sneaking sips of my water while I’m in a cab. That all stopped today when I learned the real reason I should be refraining from eat, drink, and chew (gum that is). This act of respect that I’ve been committing has actually been keeping me out of jail. Apparently it isn't just disrespectful to eat or drink in public while others observe Ramadan. It's an actual crime in this country to eat, drink, or chew gum in public during Ramadan. Punishment is jail until Ramadan is over, which is not that far away now. I got pretty thirsty today - it was hot outside and I had to walk a fair distance before hailing my cab. And then my cab driver decided to have an altercation with another driver while I sat and watched them scream at one another in Arabic for who know what reason - both of their faces getting redder by the second, fists moving more with each word. I’m guessing they were both a wee bit cranky with hunger and thirst. I’d be crabby too. The driver then got out of the cab and told me to wait while he ran across the square to who knows where. I think he said something about police, so instead of waiting to see what was about to transpire, I chose to hail another cab while he ran away, which involved more walking. The second cab driver was much more civilized. I learned on my trip that he spoke seven languages. SEVEN! And he drives a cab. So back to the whole Ramadan jail thing. I’m beginning to think jail might not be so bad - as long as I can have some ice cold water.