I step out onto the street after dusk. The avenue is abnormally still and quiet, except for the tinkle of glasses coming from the few open cafes. It is Ramadan. The thirty days of fasting during daylight hours – complete abstention from all food and liquids – have begun. Since the Ramadan festival is based on a lunar cycle, it begins about ten days earlier each year. In winter months, the fasting time is relatively short; in summer months, significantly longer.
As one of the five main pillars of Islam, the Ramadan fast is intended to be a time of spiritual cleansing and reflection. Muslims believe it is a way to seek forgiveness from God for past wrongs and sins committed and to reset oneself spiritually. By around the age of twelve, people are expected to begin keeping the fast.

Just as Ramadan began last week, my landlord was telling me that his teenage son was having a severe health problem and would have to undergo surgery followed by strict bed rest. “But now Ramadan is starting. Is he going to fast?” I inquired. “Yes, you know we have to do it; it is an obligation. He’ll be fine; we are used to it.” I found his devotion admirable.

Notwithstanding many devoted Muslims, there is an underground faction of the society who do not keep the fast. However, they do not do so openly. They meet in back rooms of restaurants for secluded meals or snack behind closed doors at home. As foreigners, we must be very careful not to eat or even drink in public during Ramadan as a gesture of respect.

As daylight wanes, the city begins to shut down. After sunset, families feast at home to break the fast. Single or divorced men, though, will get together at cafes. This year, devout Muslims in Atlasland awake by 4:00 a.m. each day to enjoy a large breakfast, and then the sun rises, and the fast begins again.
We pray that God will give our Muslim friends dreams and visions of His Son during this special time and draw many to Him.

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