Ramadan is Really Really Hard

The end of Ramadan is hard. Really hard. Or at least it is when Ramadan is during the summer. I’m looking forward to experiencing it again in 10 years when the calendar has shifted and I fast fewer hours each day in temperatures that are much more hospitable. (Fes is currently in the middle of an extended heat wave, with temperatures consistently above 100. Yippie.) But for now, Ramadan is hard.

It’s not only hard for me. It’s true across the board, I think. It’s true during each individual day and it’s true of the month overall. During the first week, people are excited. There’s a general spirit of celebration. By the final week, people are tired and cranky. I know I was. The number of car accidents goes way up; the number of fist fights goes way up. This is true of the few hours before ftour, when people break the fast, and it’s true of the last week fasting overall.

And it makes sense: in Fes, we fasted for about 16 hours every day. Depending on where you are the world, this fluctuates a bit, but not drastically. If you do the math, there’s absolutely no way your body can weather that period of time without dipping into stored fat. As I understand it, it goes through all available sugar storages within 6-8 hours, leaving me with an average of 8-10 hours during which my body is cannibalizing itself. There’s simply no suhur I can eat – no whole grains or heart-healthy fat – that will last for 16 hours. Not for 28 consecutive days.

In the beginning of the month, my body tolerates the fasting rather well. Ya, I’m thirsty and hungry. Ya, my body is sluggish and it’s hard to concentrate, making work difficult. But I manage: I read and write at least a little; I’m thirsty but not so thirsty I wonder if I’ll make it. At night, when I’m eating, I crave fruits and vegetables and all things nourishing. I drink plenty of water and tend to use a system to ensure I get enough throughout the night, instead of waiting until 15 minutes before the fajr prayer, when fasting starts again, to inundate my kidneys with several liters of water. Maybe I’m overthinking it, but it works for me.

By the end of the month, however, my body craves calories. Sugar and fat. I’m tired of my rehydration system. I don’t want to think about it that much. I don’t care about pacing my food and water intake so that my body has enough time to adequately utilize both. At ftour, I simply want water. I don’t care how much food I have so long as there’s lots of fluids: water, juice, cold soup (here, called salad), hot soup (delicious harira)… all manner of things wet. Then, once my body is rehydrated (which typically takes several hours), I start craving the calories. Chips. Sweets. I try to carry nuts with me. Forget the fruit; give me a cookie (hopefully I drank enough juice – orange, strawberry, peach even beet – during ftour to satisfy my fruit intake). Intellectually, I know this isn’t a good idea. These are cheap calories that my body will burn through quickly. But I don’t care. I want them anyway. These are the days when I stare blindly at my computer screen for the better part of the afternoon, chastising myself for not getting more work done but seriously unsure how I could possibly produce any coherent thoughts. These are the days when I make lots of lists for post-Ramadan work.

And the same is true largely across the board. Taxi drivers get much… punchier… during the last week of Ramadan. As do all drivers, which could explain the significant increase in fender benders I’ve seen in the last week. I’ve also seen far more fights on the street. Everything from yelling matches to full-on dangerous situations wherein someone could or does get seriously hurt. The difference here is that people pull knives out of their pockets rather than guns. Texas this ain’t, but it’s also fascinating to count the number of men (young and old) with long scars running the length of their cheeks.

Remember that all people have been off their routines for the better part of a month now. This includes addicts as well. Fassis take fasting very seriously. Even those for whom fasting means not ingesting their drug of choice. So by the end of each day and the end of the month, lots of people really really need a hit, whatever that hit might be. Everyone from the hard-core drug users to smokers and social drinkers. Ramadan is a loooooong month.

And suddenly it’s over for another year. Eid – akin to Thanksgiving – came and everyone was happy, full and hydrated. Just like that, we survived. And just like that, I’ve heard people saying they’re ready for another Ramadan. Not just yet please… not just yet.

Still, for all its hardships, people here love it. Color me perplexed.