Each morning during Ramadan is the suhoor (the pre-dawn meal), the private antithesis to the usually congregational and public iftar at the end of the day. It is the fasting Muslim's daily opportunity to set the tone for the day, both physically and spiritually. When done right, the suhoor allows you to properly focus on your daily responsibilities as well as your religious ones, and when done wrong (or not at all), it just plain makes your day miserable.
There are few opportunities to be truly alone with yourself (and by extension, God) than the early morning hours before the break of dawn, when the fajr prayer normally takes place. The world outside is still, and having just woken up, your mind is clear and in the best shape for communication with the Divine. Ideally, if you can leave enough time for both prayer and eating before dawn, it is an enriching experience. Even those who don't have the time to do this normally are making up for it in this last ten days of Ramadan, when extra prayers are recommended and the "Night of Power" (said to be on one of the odd-numbered days in the last third of the month) awaits.
Because there are Muslims all over the world, fasting has occurred in many different places, climates, and circumstances. But what happens when the boundaries are pushed? For example, in October a Muslim astronaut will be grappling with the prospect of fasting while in orbit aboard the International Space Station (ISS). Obviously, this brings up many questions: Does hurtling through space at thousands of miles an hour trigger the travel exemption? If not, at what time does the fast begin and end? If you went by sunrises and sunsets while on the ISS, you could have 16 mini-fasts in an Earth day, which wouldn't be much of a spiritual exercise. (The Muslim astronaut, Sheikh Muszaphar Shukor, will fast according to his home time zone in Malaysia.)
Last year, there was another Ramadan connundrum: Iranian-American astronaut Anoushe Ansari found herself in the position (200 miles above the earth) where she would be the first Muslim to spot the crescent moon and thus start the month of Ramadan. A viewing from space, however, would probably not be accepted for earth-bound Muslims (although if enough of them could be space tourists, they might make an exception).
The prospect of Muslims in space gets more complicated when you consider settlement on the moon and other planets. A Martian day is only slightly longer than ours (37 minutes), but a day on Venus is 243 Earth days. And how do you spot the Ramadan moon when you're standing on top of it? When you pray on another planet, which way do you face? (One suggested answer: create a "new Mecca" on that planet -- similar to the one in the sci-fi movie Pitch Black -- and pray towards that.)
While fasting is considered one of the mandatory pillars of Islam, there are several circumstances where it is acceptable for a Muslim not to fast. The ill, pre-pubescent children, and menstruating or nursing women are all automatically exempt, and those who are traveling are given leeway as well (though it can be argued that a 20-mile journey on camelback in the deserts of Arabia isn't comparable to the standard daily commute). Other than those exceptions, it is generally understood that fasting is required of Muslims during Ramadan.
Therefore, you might assume that every Muslim you come across in your daily life (that is, if you come across Muslims at all) is fasting. However, this isn't necessarily the case.
It's not something you'll hear most Muslims admit freely, but not all Muslims practice their religion the same way - much like adherents of any other faith. Quite often Ramadan is the time you'll learn you have a Muslim coworker, when he or she politely declines the office lunch that everyone else is gathering in the conference room for. It might also be a time when that same Muslim coworker bites his tongue as the fellow Muslim he knows in the office is chowing down with the rest of them.
One of the most important tenets of Islam is charity, and it is during Ramadan when Muslim pocketbooks open most freely. With our hearts softened through the rigor of fasting and reflection, our attention turns to those less fortunate. Charity, or zakat in Arabic, is considered one of the five "pillars" of Islam and a mandatory tenet of the faith, and a strong charitable impulse is an attribute for which Muslims worldwide are well known. And at the end of Ramadan, a specific donation, zakat-ul-fitr, is collected for these charitable purposes.
In a post-9/11 America, however, the institution of zakat has taken on a whole new meaning. Scores of US-based Muslim charities have been shut down or their activities curtailed for fear of promoting terrorist causes overseas. While in some of these cases a link was established between one or more staff members and suspicious groups overseas, most closures were preemptive in nature, leaving millions of dollars of Muslim charitable contributions with nowhere to go.
One of the things that makes America special is our food. We have a unique way of taking cuisines from all over the world--China, Mexico, and Italy come to mind--and putting an American twist on it. We have managed to elevate eating out to an art form, and it has a special place in American culture.
But for Muslim Americans who abide by halal dietary restrictions (similar to Jewish kosher rules, but not as stringent), eating out has presented a challenge. Where can Muslims go without having to resort to vegetarian options? (Although, thankfully, there are an increasing number of good vegetarian restaurants available.) The answer is the halal restaurant--defined not by cuisine type, but by the use of meat slaughtered after the Muslim invocation to God.
Despite the fact that I have been blogging and writing about the Muslim American experience for many years, I am quite private about my religious beliefs in the workplace. (That...
In the next few weeks I will be telling you about how spiritually uplifting Ramadan is, and about how I've been able to clear my body and mind in order...