October 2006
In August 2004, I decided to make a little extra money by waiting tables at the Sturgis Bike Rally. The cavernous restaurant, within which every sort of hedonism was condoned and practiced, had a bouncer at the door. With his mohawk and beard, he blended perfectly with the sea of tattoos, leather brassieres and broken glass. Except one thing: every time I greeted the jolly fellow with the normal perfunctory, “How is it going?” he would ignite, exclaming, “Great! Couldn’t be better! Praise Jesus! God bless you!”
I remembered thinking how odd it was to find such celestially-inspired enthusiasm in today’s society, never mind from a biker manning the gates to the garden of earthly delights. These days, it does not strike me as the least bit odd. This is exactly how I greet everyone in Morocco. I don’t really even have a choice; failing to deliver this exchange would be seen as rude. As this greeting is made in Arabic, it does not feel nearly as awkward as it would in English. In reality, many daily conversations are so riddled with religious references and “God-speak” that, translated into English, one might think they were listening to clerics at a mosque. But, it is simply how the Arabic language operates. In many West African nations with large Muslim populations, numerous God-speak expressions are directly inserted or translated into their language. How could you not when there are so many to pick from?
God bless you!
Praise God!
God give you peace!
May God help you!
May God make it easier for you!
God bid you a good night!
If God wills it!
God return it to you!
God give you health!
God bless your parents!
In the name of God!
Only the most seasoned Peace Corps volunteer fully integrates all of these expressions into their daily language, but to a Muslim, it is as simple as breathing. I often muse that the Muslim world would make a fascinating place for studying the linguistic-mental bridge: Are they really making a “little prayer” every time they pronounce one of the above expressions or are these simply mechanical, second-nature utterances – the product of a lifetime spent surrounded by God-speakers? One usually finds that the religious references are far more common amongst the conservative elements of society, but that is not exactly a universal trend. Perhaps there is a third, related but independent factor: to not use such expressions is to appear as a bad Muslim and suffer the attendant consequences (which range drastically based upon your community and family). It just so happens that these three factors act on more than just conversational patterns but on the full spectrum of Muslim life. And there would be no better time to study this question than now; it is Ramadan, after all.
Ramadan, of course, is the holy month of fasting and prayer and observing it is one the Five Pillars of Islam. From sunrise to sunset (determined by the moment where a white and black thread are indiscernible or just by turning on the television and waiting for the call to prayer) Muslims refrain from drinking, eating, smoking, and sex. The faithful horde the mosques to pray five times daily. It is a month of piety, alms-giving, suffering and peaceful contemplation on God’s first contact with the Prophet Mohamed. It is a month of self-denial where Muslims understand the plight of the poor and are instructed to give to the homeless. Are you feeling inspired? Well, that is the description that the Saudi Arabian Chamber of Commerce would probably give to tourists, but in practice, it just ain’t the same thing.
This past week, the Prime Minister of Turkey passed out and was hospitalized. The cause? Ramadan. Maybe he really is a devout Muslim. But maybe, just maybe, he was also partially inspired by the current anti-Western fever that is spreading across the politically secular but culturally religious country and wants to remind his people he is no lap dog to Brussels. Maybe he was doing what all Muslims are forced to do 30 days a year: play the part. I am hardly incriminating anyone – I truly believe that the vast majority of Moroccans and Muslims worldwide that claim to be fasting are, more or less fasting. Furthermore, I could care less whether someone cheats every now and then, but the fact remains. Lots of people do and the evidence is everywhere!
Perhaps a volunteer walked into the bathroom where a light-headed and loopy Muslim forgot to flush a surreptitiously devoured apple core down the toilet. Perhaps a stealthy volunteer taking a quiet stroll happens upon some farmers in a distant field, furiously cupping water from the irrigation canal into their parched mouths. Perhaps a volunteer was sitting in a taxi with two Moroccan buddies who assumed he did not understand the following conversation:
“So, how about Mohamed? Is he fasting?”
“I don’t think so, he fasted yesterday, after all. How about you?”
“Nah!”
Each of these volunteers (one of them was me) all witnessed the month-long hypocrisy. Every time I get a tirade on my “shameful, impious” ways, I wonder if the moron is one of these hypocrites. He must be a moron, right? After all, he doesn’t seem to understand that non-Muslims and Christians do not fast during Ramadan. But it is these moments, fortunately rare, that I conclude that this third, related but independent factor is what really drives Moroccan society during Ramadan. It is not necessarily important whether you are fasting, whether God is in your heart, whether you are contemplating the majesty of His final prophecy to mankind. It is important that everyone else thinks you are doing all of the above.
There are also some quirky aspects to this holiday. At first thought, it seems logical that Moroccan citizens are barred from ordering or purchasing alcohol during this holy month. Every large department store in the country has a couple of shifty looking Moroccan guys asking foreigners and tourists to buy them beer. All liquor stores are completely shut down. Yes, even Morocco has blue laws. When you remember, however, that the Qu’ran explicitly proscribes any drinking of alcohol, it seems a moot point. Why not let the bad Muslims remain bad Muslims, it is not as if they are keeping the fast?! Strangely, though, many of them are. Even some atheist, non-praying, dope-smoking, beer-swilling, prostitute-frequenting Moroccans will at least try to observe Ramadan. Why bother? Maybe the peer-pressure is too high. Maybe they reason it is the least they can do to join everyone’s agony. Maybe they still live with their Mom, who would have an aneurysm if she smelled cigarettes on their moustache at two in the afternoon.
Secondly, we have the issue of discord. In the theoretical Saudi Arabian Chamber of Commerce brochure we perused above, you may have read the part about “peaceful contemplation”. Well in reality, it is by far the most violent time of year in the Muslim world. Every day, at about 3 or 4 pm, the streets get nasty. The entertainment value rises by an order of a magnitude. All attention is drawn away from the white guy on the street to the rapidly growing swarm of disgruntled taxi drivers bickering over 2 dollars and it is also one of the rare opportunities to see a Moroccan man actually throw a punch. It is truly the only good thing about Ramadan for a Peace Corps volunteer. Well… I suppose they also make good soup at sundown too.
Lastly, speaking of sundown, there is the aberrant interpretation of piety, suffering and self-denial from sunrise to sundown: sleeping all day. Such behavior is looked at with much less scorn than, say, an exhausted village housewife, who was cutting grass in the fields at 7am, popping a chickpea into her mouth while making the breakfast meal. Hardly sounds fair, but Muslim society was not designed by women, after all.
If you ever decide to travel to the Middle East (which you should; it's a good head and shoulders above a trip to Carhenge) DO NOT COME DURING RAMADAN. Do what rich Arabs do: Take vacation in France. Well, it is about sunrise as I write this, so I should join my comrades in Moroccan solidarity by hitting the hay. Ramadan Karim!
I remembered thinking how odd it was to find such celestially-inspired enthusiasm in today’s society, never mind from a biker manning the gates to the garden of earthly delights. These days, it does not strike me as the least bit odd. This is exactly how I greet everyone in Morocco. I don’t really even have a choice; failing to deliver this exchange would be seen as rude. As this greeting is made in Arabic, it does not feel nearly as awkward as it would in English. In reality, many daily conversations are so riddled with religious references and “God-speak” that, translated into English, one might think they were listening to clerics at a mosque. But, it is simply how the Arabic language operates. In many West African nations with large Muslim populations, numerous God-speak expressions are directly inserted or translated into their language. How could you not when there are so many to pick from?
God bless you!
Praise God!
God give you peace!
May God help you!
May God make it easier for you!
God bid you a good night!
If God wills it!
God return it to you!
God give you health!
God bless your parents!
In the name of God!
Only the most seasoned Peace Corps volunteer fully integrates all of these expressions into their daily language, but to a Muslim, it is as simple as breathing. I often muse that the Muslim world would make a fascinating place for studying the linguistic-mental bridge: Are they really making a “little prayer” every time they pronounce one of the above expressions or are these simply mechanical, second-nature utterances – the product of a lifetime spent surrounded by God-speakers? One usually finds that the religious references are far more common amongst the conservative elements of society, but that is not exactly a universal trend. Perhaps there is a third, related but independent factor: to not use such expressions is to appear as a bad Muslim and suffer the attendant consequences (which range drastically based upon your community and family). It just so happens that these three factors act on more than just conversational patterns but on the full spectrum of Muslim life. And there would be no better time to study this question than now; it is Ramadan, after all.
Ramadan, of course, is the holy month of fasting and prayer and observing it is one the Five Pillars of Islam. From sunrise to sunset (determined by the moment where a white and black thread are indiscernible or just by turning on the television and waiting for the call to prayer) Muslims refrain from drinking, eating, smoking, and sex. The faithful horde the mosques to pray five times daily. It is a month of piety, alms-giving, suffering and peaceful contemplation on God’s first contact with the Prophet Mohamed. It is a month of self-denial where Muslims understand the plight of the poor and are instructed to give to the homeless. Are you feeling inspired? Well, that is the description that the Saudi Arabian Chamber of Commerce would probably give to tourists, but in practice, it just ain’t the same thing.
This past week, the Prime Minister of Turkey passed out and was hospitalized. The cause? Ramadan. Maybe he really is a devout Muslim. But maybe, just maybe, he was also partially inspired by the current anti-Western fever that is spreading across the politically secular but culturally religious country and wants to remind his people he is no lap dog to Brussels. Maybe he was doing what all Muslims are forced to do 30 days a year: play the part. I am hardly incriminating anyone – I truly believe that the vast majority of Moroccans and Muslims worldwide that claim to be fasting are, more or less fasting. Furthermore, I could care less whether someone cheats every now and then, but the fact remains. Lots of people do and the evidence is everywhere!
Perhaps a volunteer walked into the bathroom where a light-headed and loopy Muslim forgot to flush a surreptitiously devoured apple core down the toilet. Perhaps a stealthy volunteer taking a quiet stroll happens upon some farmers in a distant field, furiously cupping water from the irrigation canal into their parched mouths. Perhaps a volunteer was sitting in a taxi with two Moroccan buddies who assumed he did not understand the following conversation:
“So, how about Mohamed? Is he fasting?”
“I don’t think so, he fasted yesterday, after all. How about you?”
“Nah!”
Each of these volunteers (one of them was me) all witnessed the month-long hypocrisy. Every time I get a tirade on my “shameful, impious” ways, I wonder if the moron is one of these hypocrites. He must be a moron, right? After all, he doesn’t seem to understand that non-Muslims and Christians do not fast during Ramadan. But it is these moments, fortunately rare, that I conclude that this third, related but independent factor is what really drives Moroccan society during Ramadan. It is not necessarily important whether you are fasting, whether God is in your heart, whether you are contemplating the majesty of His final prophecy to mankind. It is important that everyone else thinks you are doing all of the above.
There are also some quirky aspects to this holiday. At first thought, it seems logical that Moroccan citizens are barred from ordering or purchasing alcohol during this holy month. Every large department store in the country has a couple of shifty looking Moroccan guys asking foreigners and tourists to buy them beer. All liquor stores are completely shut down. Yes, even Morocco has blue laws. When you remember, however, that the Qu’ran explicitly proscribes any drinking of alcohol, it seems a moot point. Why not let the bad Muslims remain bad Muslims, it is not as if they are keeping the fast?! Strangely, though, many of them are. Even some atheist, non-praying, dope-smoking, beer-swilling, prostitute-frequenting Moroccans will at least try to observe Ramadan. Why bother? Maybe the peer-pressure is too high. Maybe they reason it is the least they can do to join everyone’s agony. Maybe they still live with their Mom, who would have an aneurysm if she smelled cigarettes on their moustache at two in the afternoon.
Secondly, we have the issue of discord. In the theoretical Saudi Arabian Chamber of Commerce brochure we perused above, you may have read the part about “peaceful contemplation”. Well in reality, it is by far the most violent time of year in the Muslim world. Every day, at about 3 or 4 pm, the streets get nasty. The entertainment value rises by an order of a magnitude. All attention is drawn away from the white guy on the street to the rapidly growing swarm of disgruntled taxi drivers bickering over 2 dollars and it is also one of the rare opportunities to see a Moroccan man actually throw a punch. It is truly the only good thing about Ramadan for a Peace Corps volunteer. Well… I suppose they also make good soup at sundown too.
Lastly, speaking of sundown, there is the aberrant interpretation of piety, suffering and self-denial from sunrise to sundown: sleeping all day. Such behavior is looked at with much less scorn than, say, an exhausted village housewife, who was cutting grass in the fields at 7am, popping a chickpea into her mouth while making the breakfast meal. Hardly sounds fair, but Muslim society was not designed by women, after all.
If you ever decide to travel to the Middle East (which you should; it's a good head and shoulders above a trip to Carhenge) DO NOT COME DURING RAMADAN. Do what rich Arabs do: Take vacation in France. Well, it is about sunrise as I write this, so I should join my comrades in Moroccan solidarity by hitting the hay. Ramadan Karim!
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