Fasting during Ramadan

By the time this story is put to print, just over one in every four people on this planet will have completed their first week of fasting for the month of Ramadan—and I am among that number.

While I am not Muslim, and have no current plans of converting, this is a celebration and a practice that I hold near to my heart. Believe it or not, fasting from sunup to sundown each year for Ramadan was not something that I began during my time in Malaysia (a notably majority-Muslim country), but rather an act that stretches back a bit farther, to my freshman year of high school.

That year, for the first time, I shared the hallways with the exchange students that I so admired all my years growing up. While my family had hosted many Muslim students before, being in some of the same classes and occupying the same school brought me closer to an entire cohort of exchange students than I had ever been before. There was an entirely new light cast on my relationship and experience with these students, and with it came many perspectives. One such perspective was that of Akram, a close friend from the West Bank, Palestine. He and I had been partners for wrestling in the months leading up to Ramadan, and while the season was now long over, Akram was the first to convince me to fast. He told me, “Fasting and preparing for a wrestling meet are basically the same thing, except that as soon as the sun goes down, you can eat whatever you need—no stress about not making weight.”

It started with a single day. I woke up at 4:50 in the morning to eat Suhur, my meal before dawn broke. I drank a big cup of water as well, knowing that I would not be able to have any of that, either, until the sun went down, almost 14 hours from now. I went back to bed for another hour and a half or so, drove on to school, and so began my first day of fasting.

Akram was right; it was almost entirely like cutting weight before a wrestling meet. It was taxing, tiring, and strenuous. I wanted to drink so badly in the morning, and by the time lunch rolled around, I was feeling the twang of hunger in my empty stomach. I watched as my friends ate their meals, satiated. My mouth watered at the thought of Iftar tonight, when I could finally break my fast.

The lunch period, and honestly, the day as a whole, could not come to a close fast enough. I was becoming cranky, short-fused, and overly reactionary—and this after only one day of fasting. When I took my Iftar meal that night, I understood more closely why the act of fasting comprises one of the five main pillars of Islam. It induces an empathy like no other, a lived experience to share with those who do not have enough to get by day to day, and secondly, for the reason that when your mind turns to your worldly needs, you are instead to turn your mind to your heavenly creator.

Fasting is a beautiful act, though I kept it up for just that one day. I returned to life ‘as usual’ the day after, astounded by the resoluteness with which over 2.06 billion individuals commit to this each year. After about a week or so had passed, I decided to complete the remaining two weeks of Ramadan with Akram as well. Ever since then, it has remained a tradition.

My sophomore year, I kept the fasting up, partaking in Ramadan celebrations with the next class of YES exchange students at the high school. My junior year, I was in Malaysia, where over 60% of the population was fasting along with me. I would ride my bike down to the Pasar Ramadan (Ramadan Night Market) each evening, and let me tell you, I got really good at ordering chicken and rice in Malay. My senior year, back in the United States, I fasted with my host brother Ardian as we traveled to and from Washington, D.C. together. That brings us to today, where, alongside the tightly-knit Muslim community here at Grinnell, I am fasting for my fifth year straight.

It’s gotten easier over time, my stomach knows not to send too many signals anymore, and while my digestive tract may be changing, my heart remains fixed: I fast for friends, I fast for family, but above all, I fast for community, letting others know that they are never truly alone.