Halfway and Hungry

Returning from IST two weeks ago I was under the impression that my job here would suddenly become clear; a parting of the clouds after 2 months of hand shaking, baby kissing and wondering what a volunteer actually does. Well to be honest, that’s not really been the case. Ramadan is a less than ideal time to begin work – everyone is either a) fasting b) working in the fields or c) grumpy and irritable from doing a) and b). Although I had hoped to “share the experience” of Ramadan for a few days, I lasted a grand total of one day (or approximately 10 hours) before concluding that without the religious aspect, it’s just meaningless starvation. Unfortunately, since no one else in my house is eating I’m left to my own devices in terms of daytime eating and have ended up fasting by default from breakfast until about 5pm when bean/spaghetti sandwiches appear downtown. In all honesty, even though I’m able to eat and drink at will I’m probably a hundred times grumpier than my neighbors who seem to be doing more work now than they were last month.

Although I’m not expected to fast, people enjoy giving me a hard time about it (actually, they give me a hard time about whatever I do – fast, not fast, work, cook, garden, anything). When people ask why I’m not fasting my responses vary from “It’s too hard” to “I’m not Muslim.” This garners laughs but has led to some serious discussions of what religion I actually am. This isn’t a question I readily have an answer for in everyday American life, so I’ve been fudging the response with a vague Christian-Jewish half answer. During PST we were told that having no god here is equivalent to having no morals, so a white lie is usually the best bet. For the record, no one here seems to care what I am – Christian, Jewish – but they do seem happy that I’ve said something. I can play along with that game.

But back to the fasting question. One guy I spoke with inquired why I’m not fasting, and I said that I’m not Muslim. I asked if he’ll be fasting on Yom Kippur, the day when Jews fast. Of course not, he replied. So there, I thought, point made - I don’t have the same god so I don’t have to fast. But there’s only one god and that’s Allah, he answered. Well…let’s just agree to disagree on that one.

Other villagers have tried to strike deals with me – fast Saturday, Monday and Wednesday only. Ok, but that still involves waking up at 5 am which I’d really rather not do. This week I’m going to make an effort to fast one more day, maybe tomorrow (I think my biggest problem last time was that I missed the 5am meal, bad idea).

So that’s where we are in Ramadan, 12 days down and 18 (?) to go. While I can’t say I’m on board with the voluntary starvation idea, my Senegalese family and friends have shown some serious strength this month and I for one have been continuously impressed – I can barely stay awake for a full day in this heat as it is, but my brothers have spent 3 hours in the fields by the time I get up at 8am and are still pretty damn chipper until break-fast at 8pm.