Breaking Fast

It's Ramadan at the moment. Ramadan is the Islamic month of fasting where participating Muslims don't eat, drink, smoke or indulge in anything that is in excess or ill-natured from sunrise to sunset. In a fairly religious place like Gaza this has a few practical implications for we visitors.

Firstly, it would be rude to eat in front of someone who is fasting so lunch is a discrete affair, usually taken after the local staff have gone home at about 3 o'clock.

Secondly, figuring when and where to eat out can be tricky. Since breaking fast at sunset is traditionally a family affair, and given the fact that no one is eating during the day, many restaurants are either closed during the day, or only serve drinks and desert in the evening. Some just don't seem to bother opening at all. Figuring out which one is doing what makes chowing down of a night a bit hit and miss.

Myself, Shez and a colleague went to one restaurant a few nights ago where we spotted the staff turning the lights on as we entered. So we broke the golden rule of eating abroad: only eat in places that are packed with plenty of locals. We were the only ones there! The place turned out to be a fish restaurant, but we aren't eating fish at the moment owing to the polluted waters.

The water is polluted because the sewage system needs repair, but they can't get the required materials through the blockade, resulting in a vast amount of raw sewage being pumped directly into the sea. The fishermen are restricted to fishing within 3 nautical miles of the coast so there is little chance of them getting much beyond the pollution zone. So we're not eating fish, despite some supposed cracking fish dishes in these parts.

Anyway, the three of us all decided to go with the shish kebab option. After we ordered, we began discussing how hard it would be for a restaurant to keep stocked over Ramadan when you have a large menu on offer but most people are eating at home. When the luke-warm meal arrived, we began to wonder if the way the chef solves this problem is to have no stock, and to just duck off to the nearest kebab shop to fill the order. I'm happy to report that, despite our misgivings, there were no dodgy stomach issues.

Another thing to be aware of in Ramadan is the fact that without food and drink, or possibly more importantly cigarets and coffee, people's attention spans and tempers are likely to be a bit shorter - especially later in the day. Thus, Shez's training sessions will run from 9 until 2pm next week.

It's also advisable to not cross any roads just before sunset. The traffic around hear usually ambles along at about 40km/h, with most cars giving a short beep as they pass to check if you want a lift (every car is a taxi in Gaza). However, as sunset approaches, the beeps change from polite "would you like a lift" toots, to long "get the hell out of my way" screeches. The speed also seems to double as people rush to get home in time to break fast with their families. Stepping out onto the street is akin to wandering around a giant pinball machine blindfolded.

The time of sunset changes slightly each day, so the exact time of the breaking of the fast is announced by the Maghrib (sunset) call to prayer, the fourth for the day. By this time the streets are pretty much deserted.

The other night I was heading to the office just before sunset and had to dodge the traffic at great peril. By the time I came home, 15 minutes later, the streets were dead. I saw three friends sitting outside their store when the loudspeakers of the many mosques came to life. All three instantly sprang to their feet and ran the literally ran into the shop where they had heaped plates waiting to be demolished. Not a second was spared. Guess I'd be the same way if I hadn't eaten all day. I think I'd at least be petitioning to move Ramadan to a winter month where the days are shorter!