What It Means - Day 74

"To God belongs the East and the West. Wheresoever you turn, there is the Face of God. God is All-Encompassing, Knowing."
Quran, 2:115

This is a brief passage, but one which obviously speaks volumes - and certainly more than my minuscule brain can do justice. I selected it for a couple reasons.  First off, because, if you're completely unfamiliar with the Quran, it gives you a glimpse into how it is structured. Anything associated with God would be capitalized. Thus, it's not the face of God, but rather the Face of God. All-Encompassing and Knowing are also capitalized, but in this case also because they are two of the 99 Names of God. The use of the word Face can be jarring when you first start reading the Quran simply because one of the central tenets is that God has no physical form, is not a man or a woman, and thus would not have a face. That said, the term "the Face of God" is used a fair bit in the Quran, and it simply means the presence of God as compared to an actual physical face. Similarly, there are references to the Throne of God, although that's simply metaphoric. As Nasr reminds us in the Study Quran, "All-Encompassing (wasi) can also mean 'unstinting' or 'generous.'" Finally, it is believed that this verse was created in relation to the decision to change the qiblah, that is the direction of prayer, from Jerusalem to Mecca. Hence, if you're worried about it, don't, because, "Wheresoever you turn, there is the Face of God." As we've discussed, one of the features on the Muslim Pro app will use GPS to tell you the direction of the qiblah, but people still fret over getting it right. One way to read this passage is that you can't get it wrong.

Shop Around the Corner

I continue to try and get caught up with the astonishing backlog of blogging that I need to do. Happily I have an excuse: my phone keeps sending me messages about how it would work a lot better if it had some free memory. Thank you stupid phone for prompting me. I'm down to around 1800 pictures on the phone so progress is being made . . .

Here are a few pictures from last spring's trip to Jordan.  I am sure that there are many cities around the world where you can pop in and design your own perfume, but for some reason I always associate it with Amman. On our first full day in the capital we were walking around the city when one of the students told me that she had told the owner of a perfume shop that "maybe she'd stop by later." I explained to her that in Jordan that was the same as signing a binding contract. So, we made our way back, and actually spent a very lovely hour there (and will doubtless go back in November). Not only did the students get to play mad scientist and create their signature perfumes (most of which I suspect ended up being souvenirs for their moms, so mission accomplished) but they also got to interact with a bunch of incredibly friendly Jordanians. So, it was touristy, but well-worth the stop.

The requisite Jordanian selfie, of which Ines always seemed to be the center.

Fenn, Rebecca, Kally, Cat, Ines and Emma considering their options.

Cyndi, who is, after all, a scientist, mixing her signature perfume.

Yeah, it's all fun and games until the shop owner decides to spray you with perfume. Sadly, that shirt ended up nicely folded and left in a Petra hotel room (it's my belief that you should never come home from an overseas trip with your clothes smelling of perfume . . .).

What It Means - Day 73

"To speak of the Judeo-Christian tradition against which Islam is pitted as the 'other' is an injustice to the message of Abraham and also theologically false, no matter how convenient it might be for some people. There is as much difference between Judaism and Christianity as there is between Christianity and Islam. In certain domains Judaism is closer to Islam than it is to Christianity: it has a sacred language, Hebrew, like Arabic in Islam, and it has a sacred law, the Halakhah, corresponding to the Shari'ah. Furthermore, they share an opposition to all forms of idolatry and to the creation of iconic sacred art, which would allow an image of the Divinity to be painted or sculpted. In certain other ways Islam is closer to Christianity: both emphasize the immortality of the soul, eschatological realities, and the accent on the inner life. Then there are those basic principles upon which all three religions agree: the Oneness of God, prophecy, sacred scripture, much of sacred history, and basic ethical norms such as the sanctity of life, reverence for the laws of God, human treatment of others, honesty in all human dealings, kindness toward the neighbor, the application of justice, and so forth. Islam is an inalienable and inseparable part of the Abrahamic family of religions and considers itself to be closely linked with the two monotheistic religions that preceded it. Islam envisages itself the complement of those religions and the final expression of Abrahamic monotheism, confirming the teachings of Judaism and Christianity, but rejecting any form of exclusivism."
Seyyed Hossein Nasr, The Heart of Islam, pp. 41-42

OK, yes, it only seems like I'm continuing my shameless man-crush on Seyyed Nasr. Actually, this particular passage came up in class the other night, as it always does in my Dar al-Islam class. As might be expected, Nasr does a lovely job laying out the similarities and differences between the three Abrahamic faiths. As my students and colleagues can tell you the term Judeo-Christian tradition is one that I've railed against for a long time, mainly because of the very false separation that it implies between Judaism and Christianity and that ultimate "other", Islam, so I completely agree with Nasr's point here. Further, I think it is true both in regards to the religious and well as the cultural implications. On Twitter I follow Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg (and you should as well: @TheRaDR) and she made a similar point the other day, although she took it in an interesting direction. Her point was that, in addition to a thinly veiled Islamophobia, it also implied a friendly cohabitation between Judaism and Christianity which hasn't truly existed. And, let's be honest, while there's sadly anti-Semitism inside of the Muslim world, we'll never get caught up to the Christians in that horrible category.

What I wish that Nasr would have discussed is how similar Islam is to another religion which seems like an odd choice: Buddhism. I know I've made this point before, but the more I study Islam the more I keep coming back to certain aspects of Buddhism. In this case I'm not talking specifically about the concept of God, as some of my Buddhist friends will propose that Buddhism is an atheistic religion, although that gets me where I'm headed. The reason why they, with their tongues only partially in their cheeks, propose that it is an atheistic religion is that so much of Buddhist thought (certainly not all, because Buddhism is as diverse and complex as Islam is) stresses a very human, individualistic and incremental path to Enlightenment. As part of the Four Noble Truths there is the Noble Eightfold Path: Right View, Right Resolve, Right Speech, Right Conduct, Right Livelihood, Right Effort, Right Mindfulness, Right Meditation (these are sometimes rendered slightly differently, but you have the idea). Essentially, Buddhists are required to constantly reflect on every single thing they say and do and consider them in relation to their path to Enlightenment. For all of our talk in Islam about wiping away all of our sins by saying the Shahada or going on the Hajj, the vast majority of our time is devoted to the same sort of very human daily struggle to do the right thing in the decisions we face. I always come back to the concept of returning the worse with the better, and how I try to make that the central tenet of how I try (emphasis on try) to treat everyone and everything in my life; at least in my specific situation, how would that end up being that different from how a Buddhist would life their life on a day to day basis?

Mount Nebo

And I continue, among too many other things, to try and clear pictures and get caught up on blogging. Sometimes when I consider the sheer number of posts I need to produce it's rather daunting, which is awfully stupid considering that I started this blog and no one actually reads it but me. Maybe the point of this blog is, well, what journals were supposed to be, a mechanism for me to remind myself of things I did and thought; it's essentially an online version of Leonard's tattoos from Memento. Here are a few pictures from the March 2018 trip to Jordan, specifically a visit to Mount Nebo. I'm guessing that it was my third or fourth visit to Mount Nebo. Actually, whenever I'm in the chaos of planning a student trip and I'm facing the inevitable time crunch I'm tempted to cut the excursion there, which is ridiculous (and more than a bit of a crime) because the students always enjoy it there. Some of them, in fact, find it quite moving. If we are to believe sacred history Mount Nebo is where Moses had his fleeting glimpse of the Holy Land before dying. On a clear day it does provide a spectacular view. Now it is dominated by a Christian church, which rests on top of a series of ancient mosaics; so, like so much of the region, it's a lovely and messy mix of traditions. It's on the itinerary for November's trip, so I'll be back there before I know it. We always end up stopping at Mount Nebo and Madaba on the way from Amman to the Wadi Rum. It makes for a long day, but a beautiful ride.

The view towards the west, and Israel, is dominated by this highly stylized cross.

Naturally, like most of Jordan, there's a lot of history whichever way you look.

The interior of the church. Much of the foundation is ancient, but the present church is fairly new.

The interior is unique because in some ways it feels very modern but it's also sitting on top of ancient mosaics, so it is also designed to protect and celebrate them.

A closeup of the lower right hand corner of the larger mosaic above. I probably did this because I knew her camel ride was coming up the next day (once we finally made it to the Wadi Rum).

My student Emma posing, unwillingly, in front of the cross.

A great picture of Cyndi and my student Michael (who went on three student trips with me: Zanzibar, India/Sri Lanka and Jordan). I can say without reservation that he loved Jordan most of all.

What It Means - Day 72

"Have you seen the one who turned away, gave little, and then withheld? Does he have knowledge of the Unseen, such that he sees? Or has he not been informed of that which is in the scriptures of Moses and Abraham, who fulfilled: that none shall bear the burden of another; that man shall have naught but that for which he endeavored, and that his endeavoring shall be seen, whereupon he will be rewarded for it with the fullest reward . . ."
Quran 53: 33-42

Actually I think there's probably a lot to unpack in this passage drawn from surah 53, often rendered as "The Star." Once again it calls out those who don't contribute as they should, and, as you know, the emphasis placed in Islam on helping out those in need is one of the biggest things that drew me, and continues to draw me, to the faith. That said, in this case it's the admonition that "none shall bear the burden of another" that I'm tagging this morning. This is hardly the only time that it's mentioned in the Quran, and it is a key concept in the faith. It gets at key issues relating to the Islamic perception of Adam and Jesus, but also our personal responsibility regarding our own spiritual journey.

As Nasr suggests in the Study Quran: "Just as none will bear the sins of another, so too will none be rewarded for the good deeds performed by another. Nonetheless, the efforts of good deeds can continue to provide benefits. As a famous hadith states: 'When a person dies, his deeds are cut off, save for three things: a righteous child who makes supplication for him; a charitable deed that continues [to bear fruit] after his death; or knowledge [he has imparted] from which people benefit.'"

All true, but what I'm thinking about this moment is how often we as a faith let our sister Muslims down. We cannot bear the burden of another, for good or ill, which places tremendous responsibility on each individual (and this is one of the things I love about the faith). As much as we revere Jesus, we also believe that no one died for our sins. Last year I was asked to speak at the mosque as part of a monthly series, which I thought was a great idea (the series, not me talking). I discussed my personal journey, but also talked about things that I thought we as a community could do better, and I went out of the way to point out that all too often we treat the sisters as second class citizens. We don't make enough of an effort to include them on important committees (this was one of my constant refrains when I was on the Constitution Committee at the mosque) which means their ability to shape the future of the masjid. Come to think of it, I don't think any of the sisters were asked to speak in the series. More troubling, I would argue anyway, in this context is that I think we also treat them as second class citizens spiritually. We don't do enough to encourage them to come to Friday jummah prayers, and in fact give them an out for not coming by speaking of the virtues of them praying at home. Instead they pray upstairs, and I know from bringing female students to the mosque that often the AV system doesn't work, so they can't even see or hear the sermon. At iftar the other night I proposed to several of the brothers that until we get the AV sorted out we should have the sisters pray downstairs with the brothers, and I suggested putting up a tarp as they do in many mosques. The brothers listened respectfully, and  a couple agreed right away and others discussed that the mosque is looking into investing a lot of money in a better system, so they are taking it seriously. While I may not agree with every aspect of the faith, I do understand the argument for separating the sexes based on modesty and respect. I speak against it (the separation part, not the modesty and respect part) but that's not an argument I'm going to win. And, it's important to keep in mind that I chose to join an existing faith, with a long tradition, so it's not an argument that I should necessarily think of winning; I didn't have to become a Muslim. Still, I push for change when I think it's important. We can't speak of the individual embarking on a journey to know God, without giving them an equal opportunity to be successful on that journey.

Unfettered Moral Corruption

I know this picture has been tagged with both Jordan and India, and clearly it was not snapped in either country. Instead, it was taken in the excellent Cyndi Brandenburg's backyard during her now annual Iftar dinner. It features my student Ashley Lenze wearing a hat that looks remarkably like one I used to own, quite remarkably so. Hats have mysteriously disappeared in both India and Jordan, countries that the said Ashley Lenze has visited. It could just be a coincidence. . .

All I'm saying is that don't set down a hat in her presence . . .

What It Means - Day 71

Sometimes during this year-long challenge I'll attempt to sort out difficult concepts related to Islam and at other times I'm going to deal with the more mundane side of being a Muslim. I would argue that this is actually, in fact, valuable because Islam, like all faiths, is a lived experience and thus it's not all thinking great thoughts. Often it's just trying to break your fast as graciously or at least as unobtrusively as possible. As I've written in the past, I don't actively publicize my faith at Champlain, partially because these are private matters (said the person who is blogging about them; although my blog is so poorly visited that it's essentially private) but I also don't want the students to judge any subject matter through that lens.  This is especially true with my Dar al-Islam classes.  My goal is that the students learn something about Islam or the Islamic world within the confines of the stated class goals, so I don't know if I particularly care whether they like or dislike Islam or the Islamic world, but I would hope that they would approach both topics with an open mind and now have their judgment clouded by their like or dislike of me. So, they shouldn't overlook the good points of Islam or the Islamic world because they like me, nor should they gloss over the bad points of Islam or the Islamic world because they like me. Anyway, I try and keep my personal faith on the down low as much as possible. Truthfully, I suppose this relates to all faiths, but few, at least in today's world, inspire more passionate feelings one way or another than Islam.

This bring me to the other night. It was the first night of the summer version of my Dar al-Islam class, and also about halfway through Ramadan. I had blown through the early dog days of Ramadan, but I was still definitely looking forward to 8:18 and the first drink of water since around 4:30 that morning. Unfortunately, the class didn't end until 9:00. Now, I could have made it until 9:00, which I did on the second class meeting with little trouble, but I decided to be creative on that first night. At around 8:13, while continuing to carry on discussion, I moved a couple of the tables aside to create space, and then told the students to sit on the floor. After a few puzzled glances (it was the first night after all) they all sat down. Then I distributed bottles of water and paper plates with dates in front of them, and asked, "OK, so what are we doing?" One of the students replied, "Wait, is this like a Ramadan thing?" One of them started to reach for a date but I stopped them and told them that it wasn't time yet, and then I asked, "How would we know when to start?" A half-hour earlier I had asked the students to download the Muslim Pro app on their phone (I've discussed the pros and cons of that app, and it's use as in the classroom, a few weeks ago) and they made the connection. After figuring out that we could eat and drink at 8:18 they, unknowingly, helped me break my fast. We then sat on the floor and discussed what they knew about Ramadan, which allowed me to set up the next week's discussions when we would be reading about it in Nasr's The Heart of Islam.  It was either a great pedagogical experiment or a truly self-serving trick.

Sweets for the Occasionally Sweet

When people ask me my favorite country I always say Jordan, and there's no doubt in my mind that it's true. I'm not heading back there until next November and I'm already thinking about it continually (and not simply because I'm in the process of finishing the planning for the student trip). That said, I'm somewhat amazed that I've actually posted more frequently on the United Arab Emirates and Zanzibar than I have Jordan. To be fair, I've visited both places quite a bit, including living for a year on Abu Dhabi (plus, I might associate both of them with a woman I was in love with, so maybe I just viewed them with fresh eyes). I'm determined to make up for this. Maybe I just think of Jordan as home and thus it doesn't occur to me to record it - or maybe I just assume I'll be heading back soon so why bother. Anyway, I will get caught up. Here are a few pictures from last spring's trip. Inevitably we, like moths to a flame, end up at one or more of the Jordanian bakeries. Once the students discover Arabic sweets they become pretty ravenous and the quest for more treats defines our trips.

In this picture our friend and guide Mahmoud is explaining to Cat the different kinds of Jordanian sweets.  The owner looks less enthused by our inability to make a decision (to be fair, we'd strolled in right before closing).

The owner eventually forgave us when he realized that we were buying literally pounds of sweets to take back to ACOR to consume.

Liza, Genevieve and Emma wolfing down treats. Just looking at the dining room at ACOR makes me homesick.

What It Means - Day 70

"That is the Abode of the Hereafter, which We ordain for those who desire neither dominance upon the earth, nor corruption. And the end belongs to the reverent."
Quran 28:83

Maybe, to paraphrase Shakespeare's St. Crispin's Day speech, Ramadan is gentling my condition - or maybe all of this fasting has left me exhausted. Like yesterday, I'm simply pulling out a particular passage that I like. Trust me, eventually I'll get back to focusing on the more difficult passages, with tons of great Nasr commentary, but as I'm closing in on the last week of Ramadan I may simply be too tired to tackle the more challenging sections (or maybe I am learning something, although history teaches us that it's unlikely). This passage is culled out of surah 28, often referred to as "The Story." No one in the Quran is mentioned more than Moses, but, as is usually the case throughout the Quran, just by way of reference. As we often discuss in class, this tells you a lot about how familiar all these stories were to the people who lived in Arabia in the seventh century. There was no need to recount, rather you would just refer to them as an example in a commentary. Having said that, I'm pretty certain that surah 28 contains the most complete account of Moses, thus earning it's name of "The Story." As we've discussed, while I love to dig deep into the Quranic spiritual discussions, I'm also drawn to the times when the Quran more simply spells out how to live your life and treat others. In this case, what is worthy of praise, and reward?: "those who desire neither dominance up the earth, nor corruption." So, obviously, our current president is not going to score very highly.

CB and GS

The older I get I find that I post more and more personal pictures, as compared to pictures purely about travel or Proust or faith or whatever task I've set myself. It could well be that I've run out of things to say (as I rapidly approach 2000 blog posts) or, more likely, I just appreciate my friends more and more - and also deeply cherish a very rich life that I clearly don't deserve. Here's a picture of my most excellent friend, colleague and titular little sister, Cyndi, snapped at the amphitheater in Jerash in Jordan. I don't think I have anything profound to add, other than we both, typically, seem completely happy to be hanging out together. Next fall's trip to Jordan will be the fourth we've led together, and it's actually only four because on other possible trips she's run off on her own travel adventures. For example, she didn't go with me on the March trip to India because she was in the Galapagos with our friend and colleague Kathy. My initial plan was that the Thanksgiving Jordan trip was going to be my last one, and, of course, I couldn't imagine taking it with anyone else.

Like all little sisters she's wildly competitive with me, and, like all older brothers, I have a vague sense that she exists.

What It Means - Day 69

"And warn thy tribe, thy nearest kin, and lower thy wing to the believers who follow thee."
Quran 26:214-215

I don't know if I have that much to add to this short verse that I culled out of surah 26, often referred to as "The Poets." Mainly, I just really love the phrase "lower they wing," which means to be gentle. I have a bad habit, which I suppose most clumsy travelers have, of collecting sayings from overseas, and this is certainly one of my favorites. More profoundly, the notion of treating those around you with gentleness is key to Islam. As I've proposed numerous times, to me the faith most often comes down to the admonition to return the worse with the better, to treat the people that we deal with every day better than they are treating us. All too often we, for no real reason, are harsh to the people that we meet or even to our loved ones. It may sound trite, but if we simply did nothing more than treat other people and animals and, for that matter, nature with kindness we'd probably knock off most of the world's problems fairly quickly.

Signage

I'm not certain why I like this picture so much, but I do. If you know your history of Zanzibar, and if you don't, shame on you, you know that Zanzibar was the center of the world spice trade for a long time. For a time they went clove crazy, which in the long-term didn't benefit them because it left them as a one crop entity and when the clove market collapsed so did the local economy. Still, even today if you have cloves in your house there's a pretty good chance it originated in Zanzibar. We found this sign propped up on the ground floor of the hotel where we stayed in Chake Chake on Pemba. I don't know if the Zanzibar Clove Producers was still a going concern or the sign was a neglected remnant, but I do know I figured out that it would not fit in my suitcase.

I've never been one for displaying souvenirs in my house, but I'd definitely make an exception if I could spirit this sign back to the States.

Marafiki

OK, so this is a terrible picture of me, but it's still a picture I love. It's a shot of our most excellent friend Seif in front of his tourism company in Stone Town. Steve and I were out and about exploring Stone Town on the last trip (it was one of the days when we had given the students free reign to explore, so we were either relaxing or trying to figure out where in the world they were) when we stumbled across Seif's shop. It was around the corner from our old hotel in Stone Town and for some reason we had either never made it there before or Seif had relocated. Either way, it was a lovely surprise to be walking along and then suddenly be greeted by our dear friend.

I don't know when we're going to make it back to Zanzibar, but it can't come soon enough to spend time with Seif again. He is simply one the finest men I've ever known.

What It Means - Day 68

"It is necessary here to say something about the Islamic lunar calendar, which determines the period of fasting as well as other religious rites and ceremonies. In Islam all religious events are based on the lunar calendar, although the solar calendar is used for agricultural and other matters. In fact, the most accurate solar calendar ever devised, more accurate than the Julian or Gregorian calendars, is the Jalali calendar, devised by the famous mathematician-poet Umar Khayyam and others in the twelfth century and still in use in Iran and Afghanistan. This solar calendar divides the year into twelve months, the first six of which have thirty-one, the next five, thirty days, and the twelfth month, twenty-nine days, except on leap year when it has thirty days. It therefore makes it easier to keep count of how many days are in each month as compared with the Western calendar and is also astronomically more precise. But Islam explicitly bans intercalation, which means adding a number of days to the lunar year to make it the equivalent of the solar year. Consequently, the Islamic lunar calendar moves through the solar calendar completing one cycle every thirty-three years. As a result, Ramadan is sometimes in the winter and sometimes in the summer, sometimes during long and hot days and sometimes during short and cool ones. Since Islam is a global community, this injuction banning intercalation, as foreseen in the Quran, guarantees fairness and justice as far as condition go for fasting, the hajj, and early morning prayers for people living in different geographical latitudes and in the two different hemispheres of the globe."
Seyyed Hossein Nasr, The Heart of Islam, pp. 133-134

And since we were talking about Ramadan moving throughout the year I thought it's be a good idea to bring in Nasr's description of the Islamic lunar calendar. And here's a sense of how Ramadan moves throughout the calendar.

2013
9 July - 7 August

2014
23 June - 27 July

2015
13 June - 17 July

2016
7 June - 6 July

2017
27 May - 25 June

2018
16 May - 14 June

2019
6 May - 4 June

2020
24 April - 23 May

2021
13 April - 12 May

2022
3 April - 2 May

2023
23 March - 21 April

2024
11 March - 9 April

2025
1 March - 30 March

2026
18 February - 19 March

2027
8 February - 9 March

2028
28 January - 26 February

2029
16 January - 14 February

2030
6 January - 4 February

2030*
26 December - 24 January (2031)

2031*
15 December - 13 January (2032)

2032*
4 December - 2 January (2033)

What It Means - Day 67

And while we're talking about fasting, let me include some statistics that I stumbled across while doing some background research about the practices of Muslims from yet another great Pew study. A month ago or so I wrote (I think) that over 82% of American Muslims fasted every day during Ramadan. This study I found from Pew was from 2013, and apparently before they questioned Americans that led to the 82% figure. This was a more global study, and apparently 92% of adult Muslims around the world (or at least the countries in the survey) fast during Ramadan, which is, even for me as a Muslim, a rather a rather amazing figure. That said, the numbers vary dramatically country to country, and I thought I would include them here.

Southeastern Europe
Kosovo 76%
Bosnia-Herzegovina 75%
Russia 56%
Albania 44%

Central Asia
Tajikistan 88%
Turkey 84%
Kyrgyzstan 53%
Uzbekistan 50%
Azerbaijan 43%
Kazakhstan 30%

Southeast Asia
Thailand 100%
Indonesia 99%
Malaysia 99%

South Asia
Pakistan 97%
Afghanistan 96%
Bangladesh 96%

Middle East - North Africa
Morocco 98%
Tunisia 96%
Egypt 95%
Palestine 94%
Iraq 94%
Lebanon 88%
Jordan 86%

Sub-Saharan Africa
Cameroon 100%
Chad 98%
Senegal 98%
Ghana 97%
Ethiopia 96%
Kenya 96%
Nigeria 96%
Niger 95%
Mali 93%
Tanzania 93%
Liberia 89%
Djibouti 88%
Mozambique 86%
Guinea Bissau 85%
Uganda 85%
Democratic Republic of the Congo 69%

My Favorite View of the Taj Mahal

I'm continuing to clean out my phone so that I'll stop getting these warnings about diminished efficiency (or at least I think they relate to my phone). At least this also forces me to get caught up, sort of, on all the blogging that I need to do. I suppose if I didn't task myself with bigger themes like running music discussions or commenting on Proust or faith I wouldn't be so far behind, but then I guess that the blog would be even less interesting than it is. Anyway, here's a picture that I snapped on the March trip to India, and which I'm sure I took on my previous visits to the Taj Mahal. I know that the straight-on view is the iconic image, but I've always liked this one shot from the side through the trees. For some reasons it gives a greater sense of the grandeur of the Taj, while not losing out on the symmetry. It's hard to believe that I'll be back there next March.

The very fact that I'm always drawn to places off the beaten path (even if they're to frame a picture) serves as a metaphor for something.

India Crew 2019

In the past I haven't made enough of an effort to record the classes that I've brought overseas, other than many piecemeal pictures.  So, I'll try to do a better job, although I'm also cognizant of the fact that I'm much closer to the end of my travel course trips than the beginning. Anyway, here's a picture of the crew that I led over to India in March. They were part of a junior level COR 330 course entitled Dar al-Islam: India, and it focused on the Muslim experience in India, naturally. I don't think it was the best trip I ever led, but it was pretty damn close, and a lot of that relates to the fact that it included such a great group of students. Here we are in the requisite group shot in front of the Taj Mahal.

We drove them all of Hell and back and they never grumbled about anything.
On the ground: John
Sitting: Alex, Shelsea, Hattie, Anna, Nick
Standing: Ines, Ashley, Genevieve, Sally, Olivia, Santosh, Harry
Standing way back: Charlie, Kelly, some old guy

What It Means - Day 66

"Fasting: Like the daily canonical prayers, fasting (sawm) is an obligatory rite to be performed dyring the lunar month of Ramadan by all Muslim men and women from the age of puberty until old age. It is a fast from all food, drink, smoke, and sexual activity (also evil thoughts and deeds) from dawn to sunset (and for Shi'ites until dusk). This rite is, however, obligatory only for those who have the physical capability to carry it out. Exceptions are made for the sick and those on a journey (who must make it up later), women in their menstrual period or pregnant or nursing a child, and those who are too weak because of old age. The month of Ramadan was the month of the descent of the Quran. In this holiest of Islamic months, Muslims combine physical and psychological purification with an intensification of prayer, recitation of the Quran, and acts of charity. During this month, in almost all Islamic cities, vast amount of food are provided free for the poor, and the cost of one meal that one and one's family does not eat each day is given to the needy.
   During the fast one puts on, in a sense, the dress of death and distances oneself from the passions that attach one to the world. It is a time of great self-discipline and the practice of the virtues of patience and persistence in hardship for the sake of God. It is also a time to develop greater compassion toward the needs and to realize what it means to suffer from hunger. The Prophet loved fasting, and in a way fasting from food in Islam corresponds to abstaining from sexuality in Christianity, which exists as a religious ideal although only practiced fully by those who observe celibacy.  The Founder of Islam fasted on many other days during the year, and there are many who emulate his model to this day. But the only obligatory fast is that of Ramadan, which is practiced by the vast majority of Muslims throughout the world to this day."
Seyyed Hossein Nasr, The Heart of Islam, pp. 132-133

And since we're talking about Ramadan I thought I would include these words from Seyyed Nasr on the subject. As always, he expresses it beautifully. Several things jump out at me as I reread Nasr's words. I wonder when I'll fall into the category of "those who are too weak because of old age"? While the occasional nap has made its way back into my daily routine in my late 50s I'm consistently amazed that I have as much energy as I have; like all folks I guess, when I was younger I just assumed that I'd feel much older when I reached this age (of course, I suppose going to the gym every day plays a role in that).  Still, I know there will be the inevitable decline, and in some way it has clearly begun. I wonder if the decision of when you're too old to fast or sort of like that decision that you're too old to drive: that is, it's a decision that your kids make for you. Generally, however, my main response to this description is how poorly I hold up my end of the bargain as a Muslim, both inside and outside of the month of Ramadan.

What It Means - Day 65

"23% of adults who were raised Muslims no longer identify with Islam.

75% of Muslims feel that there is a lot of discrimination against them in the US.

50% of Muslims feel that being Muslim in the US has become more difficult in the recent years.

52% of Muslims say traditional understandings of Islam need new interpretations.

62% of Muslims don't feel accepted as part of mainstream American society.

84% of Muslims have doubted Islam at some point because of the bad things people do in its name.

84% of Muslims have doubted God at some point because of the amount of suffering in the world.

1 in 3 children do not want to tell others that they were Muslims.

1 in 6 children would sometimes pretend not be be Muslim."

This information was sent around recently by our local mosque, and was drawn from the Yaqeen Institute annual report. Certainly some of it is similar to stats that I've posted before, but I still think it's interesting and important and in some cases quite distressing. Mainly, however,I think I'm posting it because the official who sent it around described the information as "scary." I'm not being dismissive of the use of "scary" because some of the facts are scary: children should never be afraid to tell people that they are Muslims or try and "pass" as non-Muslims. And no Muslim, adult or child, should ever face discrimination for their faith. It's sad that almost two-thirds of all Muslims don't feel accepted as part of mainstream American society, especially since it is a self-perpetuating phenomenon. In our little mosque in Vermont I think the majority of the members hide in plain sight, and don't come out of the shadows much because of fear. Granted, we could make a much more deliberate effort to participate in the public sphere in a more purposeful fashion (my suggestion that we support a little league team always falls on deaf ears).  We are very welcoming of visitors, especially from other religious organizations, but how often do we go visit churches and synagogues? 

Having said all that, I don't find some of the other statistics scary. I do not find it frightening that 84% of American Muslims admit that they have doubted Islam or even God at times in their lives. We are told in the Quran to "think" and to "reflect", and as thinking, reflective beings there are times when we are going to question our lives, both here and the next. Further, God gave us free will because otherwise our decision to follow God and the faith wouldn't mean anything; my toaster makes bread for me, but certainly hasn't earned anything by the action. I guess I have the same feeling in regards to the 23% of adults who were raised Muslim but who no longer identify with the faith. If you're given free will then that is supposed to mean something, and thus you may choose a different path. And, truthfully, and this is where I am clearly outside of the mainstream, who's to say that this different path can't take you to enlightenment? I'm sorry, but I think that there are a thousand paths to God, not matter how you define God. Islam is an extraordinary path, and the one that works for me, but I'd be lying if I said that I thought it was the only path. Who is to say that those folks who make up the 23% aren't leading virtuous lives, contributing to society, and safely on their own path to God? Truthfully, isn't this all we should care about? Or are we so concerned about it because their success in choosing a different path somehow reflects badly on the decision that we've made? Naturally, if you're traditional then arguably the most scary part of these statistics would be the fact that 52% of Muslims say that traditional understandings of Islam need new interpretations. We're often reminded that innovations in the faith are bad during the Friday congregational sermon. I'm definitely one of those 52%, and I think so for two main reasons (doubtless, there would be others if I devoted more time to this particular question). First off, this brings me back to my own personal struggle between the internal and external aspects of the faith. I think the internal aspects of the faith - belief, kindness, humility, forgiveness - are transcendent and eternal, and I can't really belief that anyone would ever reject them as no longer having a place in our lives. Rather, I suspect that the 52% in this case are calling for a reappraisal of some of the external aspects of the faith. Secondly, the Prophet was an extraordinary man and he transcended a violent, bigoted and misogynistic age arguably more than any individual ever transcended an age, and if he were alive today I have no doubt that he would transcend this age, and the Islam that he helped shape, and in this I'm coming back to the more external aspects of the faith, would end up being a different faith than the one we practice. If we find these issues too scary to discuss then we don't have a particularly strong faith.
  

Jaipur

One of the biggest treats, and conversely biggest disappointments, on the last trip to India was our visit to Jaipur. The biggest problem is that, like a lot of the trip, we just didn't have enough time.  Part of that is certainly on our tour guide, but clearly I have to take a big share of the blame for not being more involved in cleaning up or evening out the trip.  I kicked back a couple times on what I thought was an overstuffed trip, but I should have been more insistent.  It's difficult to get too worked up before you leave simply because all the things on the itinerary look amazing, and you somehow convince yourself that you'll able to see all of them (even though you know if your heart of hearts that it can't possibly happen). We spent too much time on buses, which meant that we saw a lot of India, and the students never complained, but I need to simplify the trip even more for next year's incarnation. I suspect I figured that since we were going from India and Sri Lanka to "just" India that the days would suddenly get longer or we'd wrestle the Time Stone away from Thanos or maybe I'm just an idiot (I'd bet on the latter). The students loved the elephant, which made up for the cancellation in Dudhwa (blogged about earlier), but it was painful to look at the Amber Palace from a distance.  Next year we're climbing up the hill and making it inside. Now, to be fair, part of the problem really rests with India; if it weren't so endlessly amazing and so chock-full of extraordinary things to do I wouldn't have these scheduling problems!

The Amber Palace.  Even if we could carve off half a day to spend roaming around the palace that would be wonderful.

The Jal Mahal, a combination of Mughal and Rajput architecture. Truthfully, I doubt if we'll make it out there, although the boat trip would be pretty epic.

What It Means - Day 64

OK, so we're now over halfway done with Ramadan, so I'm on the home stretch in regards to fasting. As with most things, Ramadan has its own tipping point, and once you're half-way through it's a lot easier to accept the fact that you're going to make it through. As I've said before, in the days before my first Ramadan (this is now my fourth) I had a lot of trepidation, not about my decision to convert but rather my ability to fast throughout the entire month. Truthfully, every Ramadan gets easier, and part of that is knowing that I've accomplished it before. My great friend Steve sometimes refers to me as devout, which I think is pretty funny (I mean, I'm honored that he thinks highly of me, but I certainly don't think of myself as devout, because, well, I'm not). I suspect he thinks that simply because he knows I fast, and if you're looking at Ramadan from the outside then the fasting alone seems devout. As I've stated, going without food is not nearly as hard as I thought it would be.  Not drinking, well, that's another thing altogether. Usually by around late afternoon I would kill for a glass a water, and I mean literally kill. Still, I increasingly go out of my way to meet my friends at coffeeshops or restaurants, even if I know I can't have anything yet. If you're the only Muslim in your little social universe then Ramadan can be a very lonely time, and it's important to get out and spend time with your friends, even if you can't have that delicious latte at 2:30 in the afternoon. Happily, I have amazing non-Muslim friends who host Iftars for me, which is remarkably sweet of them. Beyond being very thirsty at times, the other thing that gets me is the sheer exhaustion of it. As I've said before, I'm getting up about an hour later than I should be (although a half-hour earlier than the year before, and an hour earlier than two years ago, and an hour and a half earlier than my first Ramadan) but it's still at 4:00 a.m. And then we can't eat until around a quarter after 8:00 p.m., which makes it very difficult to get into bed before 10:00, so you're perpetually running short on sleep. Now, my more truly devout brothers and sisters at the masjid are both getting up earlier and often staying up later, especially if they're hanging around the mosque for the final prayer and the nightly Ramadan reading of the Quran. When you get to the last ten days of Ramadan some folks include a 1:00 a.m. supererogatory prayer at 1:00 a.m. and even sleep at the mosque. I'm tired just writing about it. So, even if I'm not as strict as many of my fellow Muslims I still fast every day for around sixteen hours, for twenty-nine straight days, and it is tiring. Truthfully, there are times that I cut my fasting a bit short.  I didn't start this spiritual journey to prove to myself that I can overcome obstacles (fasting during Ramadan, like most things, can also be an act of vanity) but rather because I needed to be a better person to the people in my life who depend upon me. If I have a chance to eat with the entire family (an increasing rarity) at 7:00 then I do so without worrying about it. Last weekend the kids made a special brunch for their mom to celebrate Mother's Day, and I happily joined them, because it gave me an opportunity to spend time together and also truthfully compliment them on their cooking. Could I have sat there while they ate, and would they have kindly not said a word? Of course. But then I think I would be guilty of doing it just for vanity's sake, and I would have failed at just the thing that made me want to make this change in the first place.

One of the popular Ramadan themed t-shirts. Considering my habit of acquiring odd t-shirts I can't believe I don't own one.

What It Means - Day 63

"Among them are those who listen unto thee. Then when they depart from thee they say to those who have been given knowledge, 'What did he say?' Is they whose hearts God has sealed and who followed their caprices."
Quran 47:16

This passage is drawn from the surah entitled "Muhammad," which is one of only times that the Prophet is mentioned by name in the Quran (more on that later). On the surface level this revelation specifically relates to the hypocrites who would feign attention while listening to Muhammad. As is often the case, there's also a broader message, and the obstacles that one faces when reciting or reading the Quran. As Nasr tells us in the commentary, "This verse can also be understood as a message to believers that they must be attentive when reciting the Quran, lest they hear the words but do not understand them or heed their meaning." Nasr references al-Ghazzali's Revival of the Religious Sciences and lays out four specific obstacles:

"confining their focus to the correct pronunciation of the letters of the Quran"

"dogmatic adherence to a particular school of thought (madhhab)"

"persistence in sin or being characterized by pride and worldly passions"

"and reading the outward commentary on the Quran and thinking that the Quran contains only those meanings that have been transmitted from early commentators such as Ibn Abbas, Ibn Mas'ud, and the like."

See, I think you could take this even more broadly as a commentary on the things that keep anyone, no matter whether you're reciting or simply learning, and no matter the faith, from breaking through. To me the first admonition speaks to that clash between the internal and external aspects of the faith. I had some at the mosque one time tell me that if your prayers weren't in Arabic then they didn't count, to which I simply responded, "stop it." Yes, I desperately want to learn Arabic, but do I think that God only speaks Arabic? Of course not, that's absurd. The Marxist in me thinks that everything is politicized, and a statement like that might also simply relate to a desire (probably not even intended by the speaker) of insuring the influence of the Arabic world inside of a rapidly expanding and diversifying Islamic universe. More generally, when we're so fixated on the appearance (and sound) of something it's awfully easy to lose the inner meaning, or, more pointedly, lose the desire to even search for the deeper meaning. Secondly, being too dogmatic and narrow-minded is always a detriment to studying anything. As we often opine in Heroines & Heroes, a theory will take you where it wants to take you. One of the most important lesson I've learned from reading Nasr's Heart of Islam and the Study Quran is the incredible diversity of the Islamic world, and if all of these different intellectual schools of thought have been arguing about certain passages for fourteen centuries for a reason. You really have to keep an open mind, and constantly remind yourself that the "correct" answer is not always found through one lens. Thirdly, well, see most of the mistakes I make in approaching my study, and not simply of the Quran. And finally, there is always a deeper meaning. I would argue that the single biggest misconception that I had about Islam before I started studying it was that the religion was terribly, terribly literal; think radical Protestant literal. Yes, there are schools of thought within Islam that are very literal, but they are just one branch, and they are widely outnumbered by schools of thought that take a more nuanced and metaphoric read. However, even if you're on that side of things, you still need to read a variety of commentaries to get a more balanced picture.

What It Means - Day 62

"And in their wealth was a due for the beggar and the deprived."
Quran 51:19

I'm really enjoying the challenge of blogging every day, and will probably enjoy it even more when Ramadan is over and I'm not quite so sleep deprived. Not surprisingly, this reminds me of the approach I took when I read and commented on Proust. I got so much more out of reading Remembrance of Things Past by taking that more structured approach, and it probably helps explain why I'm rereading it right now so quickly after the initial project.

As I've discussed previously, there were many things that drew me to Islam, some tangible and others more ethereal. On the tangible side is the faith's very strong emphasis on charity. It is so central that it is one of the Five Pillars.  As Nasr notes below Islam distinguishes between required charity, such as zakah or alms (that is, giving 2.5% of your worth to the poor every year), and charity that is encouraged. Keep in mind that in this context charity is not simply considered in a monetary sense. As the Prophet explained in a famous hadith, "Every act of kindness is charity."

As Nasr explains in the Study Quran, "Due is interpreted as reference to the required alms (zakah) rather than supererogatory charity (sadaqah); but may refer to both. For a list of those who have a due or right to a share of one's wealth, see 2:177 The beggar indicates those who ask to be given charity, while the deprived indicates those who have need but do not beg. The deprived can be understood as a reference to all human beings or to all living creatures who are unable to voice their needs. In either case, there is an implied obligation upon those with wealth to be aware of the needs of others, even when others may be reticent or unable to bring those needs to their attention."

This is all interesting, but to me the key is obviously: "The deprived can be understood as a reference to all human beings or to all living creatures who are unable to voice their needs. In either case, there is an implied obligation upon those with wealth to be aware of the needs of others, even when others may be reticent or unable to bring those needs to their attention."  It's a message that we as a country need to hear, no matter what religion presents it. As a country we are increasingly run by individual who, as the old joke goes, woke up on third base thinking that they hit a triple.

Forgotten Corners

I was strolling through the pictures on my phone, partially because of a warning that my phone was operating at less than optimal efficiency because of the massive number of pictures on it, and also out of my perpetual wanderlust. When I was looking at my pictures from Agra I was reminded that on this visit I devoted more time, and pictures, to looking at the smaller, "forgotten" corners of both the Raj Mahal and the Agra Fort. You can only take so many pictures of the magnificence of the Taj Mahal, well, of course, that's a lie, because you can endless pictures of it quite happily. This time I decided to focus in on the smaller corners, and here are some of the pictures. Some are nice and some are quite forgettable (there's a metaphor in there somewhere).

Truly a Red Fort

This picture can't do justice to the beauty of India, although I suppose it comes closer than most. When you're at the Agra Fort there is a time as the sun is starting to descend towards the horizon that the red stone begins to glow.  It's beautiful during the day, certainly, but also a bit washed out. At the end of the day the fort seems to shine with a light from within.

I should really invest in a nice camera, but that would be something else for me to fret over.

What It Means - Day 61

"The superiority of one who has knowledge over the one who [merely] worships is as the superiority of the full moon over all the planets."
Muhammad, Hadith

Earlier this morning I sent along a picture of two pages of tiny print commentary (which I'll include in tomorrow post) to my friends as a way of explaining what I spend a lot of my time doing during Ramadan (as I told them, it's not simply fasting and feasting). As I've said before, by far my favorite part of the month is the time that I get to devote to study (not that I don't study during the year, but certainly in a much less structured fashion). Beyond everything else, I guess the historian and the nerd in me loves to analyze a text deeply and to learn (and struggle) with a new intellectual, as well as religious and spiritual, universe. All of this is a roundabout way of bringing me to the hadith quoted above.  While faith is the key concept, is blind unquestioning faith better than a faith examined and tested and accepted? This is why I think this month is so key, not because we're fasting but because we're taking time to examine ourselves and our faith. Granted, it's not easy and often it's puzzling if not unpleasant. There are times during reading and studying when I come away confused and, at times, truthfully, more than a little angry with my religion; although, again truthfully, that normally relates to little corners of the religion which normally reflect what I would consider outdated cultural norms or political compromises made along the way. Again, I'm an historian, and I know how religions evolve and devolve, and the clumsy compromises they make over the years as they expand and become institutionalized. Having said all this, the hours that I devote to reading and rereading all the text and the commentary, as well as innumerable outside sources, has only enriched my faith and not destroyed it. In the Quran we're instructed to think, not unquestioningly memorize. I think that Judaism simply does a better job of internalizing and institutionalizing reflection and questioning than we do. Isn't that the point of Job? Naturally, we share the same prophet, normally expressed as Ayyub (in fact, I visited his tomb in Oman years ago), although the Quran covers his story very briefly and mainly celebrates him for remaining steadfast while leaving out the questioning: "And [remember] Job, when he cried unto his Lord, 'Truly affliction has befallen me! And Thou art the most Merciful of the merciful.' So We answered him and removed the affliction that was upon him, and We gave him his family, and the like thereof along with them, as a mercy from Us and a reminder to the worshippers." (21:83-84) Now, if you read the Study Quran, or other Qurans that include commentary, you see that there have always been disagreements among the different schools of Islamic thought (again, more tomorrow), although that debate tends to remain at the level of sorting out inconsistencies and never raises to the level of questioning the nature of faith.

Old Delhi

Or just Delhi. In the mad blur of our recent trip to India we just scratched the surface in our exploration of New Delhi, especially the older part of the city. The clash between the modern, gleaming national capital and the grungy historical city is glorious. On our visit to the Jama Masjid (more on that later) the students did get to see a little bit of the old city. I don't know why I like these pictures do much. We were behind schedule, as always, and were rushing to get to the Sikh temple (which was an amazing visit) so I had to snap these pictures through the bus window. Normally I'm a bit of a snob on doing that because it screams of an inauthentic experience, but we were desperately late so I'll cut myself slack on this one.

I love this shot of a typically chaotic street in the old city, and I wish that we could have gone for a walk. Of course, I always try and remind myself that what I consider an acceptable level of chaos it not what everyone accepts as an acceptable level of chaos.

"Yes, ma'am, now about that problem with your cable . . ."

What It Means - Day 60

"O you who believe! When you are called to the congregational payer, hasten to the remembrance of God and leave off trade. That is better for you, if yo but knew. And when the prayer is completed, disperse throughout the land and seek the Bounty of God, and remember God much, that haply you may prosper."
Quran 62:9-10

While Muslims are required to pray five times a day (although, as we've discussed, certainly not every Muslim in the world actually prays five times a day; for example, only around 42% of American Muslims do) the only congregational prayer is midday on Friday. I guess one of the best proofs that I found a good fit is that I rarely miss the Friday prayer, and that was true for a while even before I converted. The Dhuhr prayer, the second one of the day, sometimes referred to as the noonday prayer, moves around a little as the day shortens and lengthens, but on Friday it is subsumed as part of the congregational Jummah prayer, which is almost always at 1:00 p.m. The sermon itself is called the khutbah.

As Nasr tells us in the Study Quran (and, as I propose quite regularly, if you have any interest at all in Islam, or even more generally in faith, you should pick up a copy):

"According to al-Qurtubi, As'ad ibn Zurarah and Mus'ab ibn Umayr, who had been among the first Madinians to embrace Islam, began the practice of the congregational prayer so that Muslims would have a day for prayer and remembrance like the Jews and Christians. The Friday congregational prayer was thus begun by the Helpers in Madinah before the migration of the Prophet, then institutionalized by the Prophet when he arrived in Madinah, and later given Divine sanction in these verses. The Prophet first led the Friday congregational prayer himself during his migration to Madinah; he had stopped in Quba, just south of Madinah, for twelve days, then set out for Madinah on a Friday. When the time for prayer came, he prayed with the people in a seasonal riverbed that they used as a mosque. It was here that he delivered the first congregational sermon."

As I think we discussed earlier (or maybe I talked to my class about it last semester) Friday is not quite the same for Muslims as Saturday is for Jews or Sunday is for Christians. That is, it's not considered a sabbath per se. This means that it's not expected that you'll take the day off. Rather, you're simply taking a break to pray with your brothers and sisters, and then you need to get back out into the world; hence the second passage of this verse. Nasr points out, "Ibn Abbas is reported to have said that this injunction is not to disperse in order to seek worldly things, but rather to call upon the sick, attend funerals (which are often held after the Friday congregational prayer), and visit one's brothers in God." For many Muslims, however, it means that they're off to work.There may be a lull early in the day, but by mid-afternoon all the shops are open. When I visited Yemen I purposely flew into Sana'a on a Thursday evening, so that I'd have a quiet period on Friday to look around the city.

I'm sure I'll revisit the topic of the public service later.

OK, So Maybe We Are Going Back to Jordan

It's been the usual struggle with administration (every time is different, actually, with the only consistency being their inability to ever be helpful) but it looks like we've finally ended up arguing about the roster for next fall's Jordan trip. I don't know if I ever would have actually cancelled the trip out of frustration, but I thought about it. And now I can finalize the scheduling of planes and hotels and meals and tours - and the actual budget. It's six months away, but I'm already excited about it, which tells you everything you need to know about my love of Jordan.

I just want to be back at our camp in the Wadi Rum, drinking tea in front of the roaring fire.

What It Means - Day 59

A couple times we've talked about whether or not it's actually a misrepresentation to first and foremost declare that Ramadan is that month when Muslims fast, as compared to that month when Muslims devote themselves to studying the Quran and focusing on their faith. We can set that argument aside for the moment, and agree that, when possible, it's the month for feasting. An Imam I follow on Twitter posted this the other day: "I can't believe how much weight I've lost during Ramadan said no one ever." Many people looking in from the outside assume that Muslims lose a lot of weight during Ramadan. Actually, nothing is further from the truth, for any number of reasons. First off, you essentially convince your body that you're starving to death so it switches over to preservation mode. Many Muslims don't work out during Ramadan as they do their best to preserve energy; I still do, but certainly not as hard. You also tend to stuff yourself very late, and then go to bed - not the best recipe for healthy living. We're about a quarter of the way through this Ramadan and the Maghrib prayer, the fourth prayer, falls at 8:10 p.m. (today any way). You break your fast with three dates and some water and then you pray, and only then can you tuck in for a more substantial meal. So, maybe by around 8:25 you sit down to eat. If you are fortunate enough to get invited to someone's house during Ramadan (which you should always accept) there will be a mountain of food and desserts. Many mosques host a number of Iftars during the week, and if you're invited you should definitely attend one (and, once again, you'll be stuffed - and have leftovers pressed upon you). At the Islamic Society of Vermont we have potluck dinners every Friday, and then the different ethnic groups that makes up the mosque take turns hosting dinners on Saturday and Sunday. During this past weekend it was the Indians and Pakistani sisters and brothers on Saturday night, and then the Arabic brothers and sisters on Sunday evening. Next Sunday it will be the Bangladeshi contingent (we have a bigger group of Muslims from Bangladesh than from Pakistan or India, which is why the latter two go in together). I suspect the Bosnians are up the week after. Since I don't technically belong to any of the groups (although my Indian friends have always assured me that I'm secretly Indian, while my Arabic friends are equally convinced I'm secretly an Arab) I usually try to get there early and help set up the tables and chairs. It always makes for a wonderful way to break the fast. Non-Muslims are always invited to attend.

The Arabic contingent did themselves proud last night. And that was just the first plate.