For Muslims around the world, Ramadan is a time of extremes: rigorous self-restraint paired with nightly feasting on a holiday scale; introspection and prayer paired with more community fellowship than at any other time of the year.
Throughout the holy month, practicing Muslims over the age of puberty will rise before dawn to eat and drink and offer the first prayer of the day around 5am. Then, from sunup to sundown, they will fast from all food and drink. At the end of the day, they gather with family and friends to break the fast over a shared meal, or iftar.
On such an evening, the Islamic Society of Michiana in South Bend, Indiana, hums with activity. As the light fades, people stream in from the parking lot. Children cluster excitedly at the entrance, the little girls in brightly colored dresses. Round tables in the gymnasium are set with bottles of water and juice, plates of dates (symbolic as the preferred food of the prophet Muhammad) and pastries stuffed with meat or cheese, and bowls of thin lentil soup. A chanted prayer emanates from speakers on the walls.
From the ceiling around the great room hang flags from nations represented in the congregation. Numerous as they are, there are probably a few missing. According to Imam Mohammad Sirajuddin, who has headed the mosque since 1998, the 700 or so individuals in the congregation hail from about 40 countries, ranging from the Middle East, Southeast Asia, Africa and Eastern Europe.
After breaking the fast with a light snack, the adults disappear into the mosque briefly for prayers. When they return, energy is high as the feast begins in earnest. On the buffet lines tonight is Middle Eastern fare: three kinds of rice and two kinds of chicken, plus mansaf (a lamb dish with fried nuts), small tender okra in tomato sauce, salad, hummus and pita. Later, when the dessert table is declared open, you will not be able to see it for the swarm around it, as diners snatch up plates of custard and baklava, basbousa semolina cake and fruit salad.
At one of the women’s tables are Atiya Sirajuddin, who, along with her husband, the imam, is Indian; Chaza Baki, from Syria; and Ameenah Osei, an African American whose parents were members of the Nation of Islam. They compare notes about savory pastries in different cultures, and Baki explains what is on the plate tonight.
Osei says that although people think Ramadan is just about not eating, it is profoundly spiritual. “It’s a whole-body fast—your mouth, your eyes, your ears, your thoughts—to bring you closer to Allah.” It is a time to reflect, to forgive and ask for forgiveness, and to give back to the community.
Different families or ethnic groups sign up to provide meals each night. Everyone in the community is welcome, Muslim or not, and there are special nights dedicated to feeding those without lodging. Weekends are the busiest. More than 500 people will fill the hall for Middle Eastern Fridays, Indo-Pak Saturdays and Bosnian Sundays. During the week, families may choose to eat at home, while the Islamic Society welcomes single people, converts, students away from home and others.
Ramadan is meant to be a communal experience. Nahed Mohamed, a Fulbright student from Egypt at Saint Mary’s College, worried that she would feel lonely, but, she says, “I found a second family away from home at the Islamic center. They made this Ramadan a special one. I felt welcomed and loved.”
After the meal begin evening prayers, which will run until almost midnight. Children and their caretakers head for home. During the month of Ramadan, the entire Quran is recited at these services in the masjid, or mosque. Imam Sirajuddin explains, “Ramadan is special because the revelation of the Quran, the final version of God’s book, was sent down in this month.”
“Ramadan has a magical power,” he says. “Muslims look forward to it all year long.”
Islamic Society of Michiana
3310 Hepler St.
South Bend, IN
574.272.0569
michianamuslims.org
Lisa Barnett de Froberville is a French teacher and translator and the managing editor of Edible Michiana.
