Ramadhan commemorates the thirty day period in which the Prophet Muhammad received his revelations from God, a.k.a. the Qur’an. Indonesian Muslims, about 88% of total pop., observe the period through fasting, giving alms, and generally increased participation in religious activities. As Indo PCVs, we don’t have to participate in Ramadhan; our communities are generally tolerant and understanding enough to avoid putting us under unwanted pressure. However, most of us seem to end up least fasting anyway, for a variety of reasons. Some include desires to (1) show respect for our host families (who might find our eating Oreos in front of them a bit insensitive, (2) bond with our communities through a shared experience, and (3) gain some firsthand insights into what the holy month really means. These main three reasons all loomed large behind my own motivations, and at least so far, it seems expectations are being met.
Ramadhan fasting stipulates Muslims refrain from both eating and drinking from sunrise to sunset, and for my family, that means getting up at 3:00 A.M. for an early breakfast. I roll out of bed to the masjid’s wake-up call, wash up, and sit down with my host father at the breakfast table, together cramming in as much rice as we can while we can. Afterwards, the rest of the family stays up until the 4:30 call to prayer while I head back to bed for another hour.
Schools themselves undergo some drastic changes during Ramadhan. Kids are cranky. Teachers are tired. Motivation for education is generally low. Luckily, curtailed teaching hours take these factors into account. My lessons, usually lasting two hours, are cut in half, and so are everyone else’s classes. Consequently, the school day ends much earlier than usual, students being set free at 11:30 rather than the usual 1:45, and just in time for the noon call to prayer.
Most people pass the afternoon by sneaking in additional naps whenever possible. For example, my bapak (Indonesian for father) avoids the rice paddy in the noonday heat since he can’t replace lost fluids until sunset. To pass time, he usually watches the grandkids or lies down for a few hours. I’m usually feeling pretty lazy too, and fast-induced exhaustion is a strong excuse to stay home during the afternoon hours. So while I’m usually game for an afternoon walk through the village or playing frisbee with the kids, right now, midday socializing has been curtailed to just a few days each week.
Fasting ends as soon as the sun dips below the horizon around 5:30. Muhmammad traditionally broke his fast by eating three dates. I don’t think dates are native to Java, so instead, most Muslims here start things off with a bow of “kholak” (spelling?), a cold soup that varies significantly from day to day but most often consists of bananas, fermented cassava, melon, and bits of Jello. After breaking the fast with Kholak, Indonesian Muslims then take a ten minute break to say an additional prayer (Maghrib) before continuing on with their meal.
The evening hours are devoted to reading the Qur’an. Every evening during Ramadhan, masjids host Qur’an readings that my homestay father and mother never miss. They leave the house around seven, listen to 1/30th of the Qur’an and then return around 8. By that time, everyone’s tired, and we all head to bed. My cousin prays over the loudspeaker at a local a minor masjid (musholla) until 11 p.m., and that’s usually the last thing we hear before drifting off to sleep.
This week in photos...
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