Ramadan

Patrick's sister's husband, Rawad, is a muslim originally from Palastine. His father was kicked out and they went to Lebanon. Rawad was born in Lebanon, and when he was 11 years old, his family moved to Germany to get away from the political unrest. Ramadan is a time of year in Islam where they fast during the sunlight hours. When the sun goes down, they eat together. This lasts for I believe 40 days. Rawads family invited us over to enjoy their last Ramadan feast before the break of the fast the next day. (Too bad we couldn't go to the break of the fast on the last Ramadan day. That celebration is like our Christmas for them.) Unfortunately, I had to go to class on that day. But Wednesday, we were there. They have 10 kids from the first marriage and a new baby from the second. (Their mother died of cancer 2 years ago.) The second wife is from Lebanon and doesn't speak a word of German or English. We had to communicate with her through the children, who all speak fluent Arabic. Arabic television was on in the background the whole time, though no one was watching. There was a calender on the wall that they referred to just for Ramadan. Everyday has a different and exact time when they are allowed to eat. (Before sunrise and after sunset.) When we arrived, everyone shook our hands and we were offered something to drink. Just for us, they had set the table with hundreds of cookies and treats on it. The cookies were filled with figs and dates. The candies were chocolate and marshmellowy things with coconut on the outside. We played with the kids for a couple of hours until the sun went down. All the women and the father were in the kitchen preparing the meal. Just before sundown, they layed a table cloth down on the floor and started bringing in food and setting it on the cloth. The smell was so enticing I could hardly stand it. There was chicken, rice, fish, salad, bread, and dip for the bread. And everything was so beautiful. The rice was made to look like a big flower with different colored peppers as petals. The salad so colorful as well. At sunset, we began to eat. First we were served an asparagus soup. Then we were allowed to take from whatever we wanted on the table. My first bite of chicken changed the way I think about food. It was the best thing I had ever tasted! I said, "This is the best chicken I've ever tasted!" From that moment on, the father watched my plate carefully. Whenever I had finished my chicken, he put another piece on my plate. After the third, I told him there was no more room in my stomach. He understood that, finally. The chicken is baked with yogurt with garlic and 7-land-spice. (That's my translation, I don't know what it's really called in English.) But it has coriander and cummin and cinnamon and nutmeg and I assume 3 other spices in it. Here, you can buy it as a mix already. After that chicken, why eat chicken spiced a different way??!! After we were done eating, everything was carried back into the kitchen and the table cloth was taken off the floor. Then, they wanted to make us coffee, but we told them we don't drink it so they made us fruit tea. They brought out dessert and tea. The dessert were like pancakes folded in half, filled with walnuts and brown sugar, and fried in sugar and butter. That was yummy too, but by that time, my stomach was about to burst. Patrick and Rawad's father talked politics as they ate. I believe his father thinks the the war between the US and Iraq is a religious war and that Bush wants to wipe out the muslim nations one by one. That is what they hear on their news. And you have to admit, that's what it looks like. Now he's bugging Syria. They think: Is Lebanon next? He also told Patrick of his plans to visit Mecca next year. He says the problem is the money. It's very expensive there. When we left, the father told us we could come anytime, without an invitation. That was my cultural adventure for this week.