The Muslim holy month of Ramadan began this week. I have chosen to attempt to fast from sun up till sun down in solidarity with those in the community who practice this holy tradition. There are many reasons to do it, not just because I feel it would be disrespectful on many levels to eat in front of people when they cannot. Not everyone here at Ibdaa observes Ramadan and there are certain concessions made in the Ibdaa restaurant for internationals and non-Muslims who need to eat. I have already received mixed reactions from Palestinians when they ask me the simple question, "Inta Sa'im? (Are you fasting?)" and I reply, "Aiwa." Some smile and seem appreciative, others ask why and still others give a kind of puzzled look as if trying to say why would a non-Muslim do this. It brings me back sometimes to the explanation of many different pieces of my life, like why do I choose to go by the name Pablo when I am not Hispanic, why do I have a Mayan symbol and cross tattooed upon me when I am not Mayan, why would I observe Ramadan when I am not Muslim. I never try and claim that I am any of these other cultures, ethnicities, or beliefs. I just find that in order to really be a part of another culture it is important to respect and, at least, experience a piece of that culture and somewhere along the way some of those parts of other cultures has just seemed to make sense and thus I have adopted it, in a way.

I am still reading up more on Ramadan but the simple explanation that was given to me that made it easier for me to choose to attempt the fast is that it is a time where we are all together, where we suffer the pains of hunger and thirst together and atone for our sins, in a way. Again, it is that word together that sticks out importantly for me. I finally asked someone the other day what the Arabic work for together was and the answer, "Ma'a B'ad" is now firmly in my vocabulary. We do this together. And that is the path that my life has taken in the last fourish years, walking together with people in their lives.

And so here I am, spending time from sun up to sun down without food or drink. The "iftar (breaking of the fast)" is quite a special time and, at least I; count down the minutes until the mosque next door calls us to eat.

On the first night of Ramadan I was in Jerusalem sitting on the roof of a friends house with a group of people from all different countries. It was a Mexican themed potluck dinner for which I had made guacamole and fajitas. It was tough not to try the guacamole while I was making it. I sat quietly with my back to the wall on a blanket as the sun began to sink beneath the horizon. Around me, food dishes clinked as they were passed around and others, not fasting, began to dig in. I only had to wait an extra 5 minutes past when the group started eating before I could eat and it was a test of discipline that I made it that far with all the good food that was around. But its not just respect of another culture, or trying to understand the world I am in; this is also a time of personal reflection and discipline for me. I used those five minutes to sit, with my legs crossed and hands folded in my lap, eyes glued to the muted colors of the setting sun over the hills above Jerusalem. I thought about Jerusalem that was at the beginning of Ramadan for the Arab population and Rosh Hashanah in the Jewish areas. I thought about what this fast really means for me and the piece of mind it might provide. I thought about many things while waiting to eat...

(Hopefully this post makes sense since I finished writing it an hour before breaking my fast so I am a little loopy)