TGIE (Thank God It’s Eid): Why I Also Did A Little Fasting On Ramadan Despite Being Catholic

A few days ago, I read an article about a Filipina in Abu Dhabi who said that Ramadan gives spiritual strength.

I found her views particularly refreshing, considering that most non-Muslims I know have been spouting complaints for the past month about the U.A.E.’s supposedly “strict” laws on the Holy Month’s do’s and (mostly) don’ts.

For instance:

1. Do wear modest clothes. Do not expose shoulders and knees.

2. Do not eat in public during daylight hours.

3. Do not drink in public during daylight hours.

Regardless of whether you’re Muslim or not, so long as you’re on Emirati ground, you are subject to the law.

For many non-Muslims, this is a problem.

“The good news is, our 8-hour office timing is cut down to 5 hours, and we are off by 2 o’clock,” one officemate said as-a-matter-of-factly, “The bad news is, no lunch or snack breaks and no coffee or tea time – at least, not outside the pantry.”

Why, I once caught the company CFO red handed when he handed  his empty glass of tea back in the pantry. When I called him out for it, he very nearly jumped.

Because it’s my first Ramadan in a Muslim country, I gobbled up all the information I could get my hands on from television, the news, social media, and even word-of-mouth.

Unfortunately, the latter source of information did not always have the best of intentions.

“I know a friend who knew a friend (who knew a friend) who got arrested by the police for wearing indecent clothes.”

Mind you, what is deemed “indecent” here is laughingly not indecent elsewhere, especially not in the Philippines where you can spot teeny-boppers wearing micro miniskirts and spaghetti-strapped tops to church.

“What happened to her?” I asked, treading the fine line between skepticism and sarcasm.

“They were about to take her in, because she wasn’t carrying enough money to pay the fine. She repeatedly apologized to the police until they decided to let her off the hook with a warning.”

On the very first day of Ramadan, one of my officemates came in 15 minutes late and explained that she missed her bus, because she ran back home after deeming her outfit “indecent” at the bus stop.

That’s paranoia if there ever was one.

I’m not going to lie – that level of paranoia can rub off on you, which was exactly how I ended up not drinking water for 5 hours straight in the office.

5 hours is nothing to the 15 hours that devout Muslims had to spend fasting this year.

But I’m a heavy drinker (of water, I mean) and 5 hours is already a feat.

It dawned on me that, though going without water at the office was difficult, it was very much possible.

And that was how I (accidentally) got started on my quote-and-quote little fasting.

The first few days were the hardest.

The ladies I sit next to at the office are all non-Muslims: one is Hindu, another is Catholic, and the last one belongs to some Christian sect that forbids cutting hair.

I’m the girl with a ceramic Buddha and mini Zen garden on her table but professes the Catholic Faith.

While they rounded homemade finger food smuggled from home, I kept pounding on my laptop keyboard wondering what the hell I was doing fasting in Ramadan when I didn’t even fast during Lent!

There was that incident with the roundabout tea, a result of a misunderstanding between my Catholic officemate and the tea boy.

The tea boy served the tea outside the pantry, and my officemate, who decided she didn’t want it after all, put the cup on my table.

That was probably the one time I was horrified at the sight of tea.

I love tea.

I even wrote a college essay professing my love for tea.

But that morning, I shoved the tea back to my officemate and called her out on sabotage.

What can I say?

I just got off of my six-month probation and I was fasting. Sort of.

To say that I was touchy was an understatement.

One day, my more observant Hindu officemate asked me if I was fasting.

I had turned down her homemade Indian sweets for the third consecutive time, as opposed to, well, my usual thank-you-very-much-omnomnom self.

“Yes,” I said, and added more humbly, “but just in the office.”

What’s five hours without food and water?

Turned out, some days were worse than others, and it all depended on what I scarfed down for breakfast.

If I ate a salty leftover dish in the morning, I would be squirming in discomfort for most of my little fast.

If I ate too much bread and Nutella (my default breakfast of choice), I would feel dehydrated before noon.

It took me long enough to start making more “responsible” breakfast choices like wholegrain cereal and oatmeal.

Coffee is a notorious dehydrating culprit, but I considered that to be a necessary evil.

I also made it a point to drink 1-2 glasses of water before heading to work.

But what ultimately strengthened my resolve to continue on my little fast was, well, God.

It just seems a total absurdity to put yourself in a difficult (even painful) situation, such as fasting, for nothing.

Yes, it’s good for the body.

But so is freshly tossed salad and an hour-long cardio sesh – so why bother fasting?

As Teresita Culianan so aptly put it, fasting in Ramadan gives spiritual strength.

More than an age-old form of body cleansing, fasting bolsters the soul.

This is precisely the reason why the practice of fasting encompasses all major religions of the world.

Without being prudish about it or anything, the body requires discipline.

When the body is weakened, it becomes less inclined to make its fleshly demands, and the soul is free to not only desire but even pursue the good.

Generosity is the central virtue of the Holy Month. Aside from performing the zakat (almsgiving), one of the Five Pillars of Islam, generosity can also be felt in invitations to suhour (pre-dawn meal) and iftar (breaking of fast). I suppose it goes without saying that with more self-denial comes a keener sense for others’ needs.

My favorite Ramadan story this year is that of a wealthy Abu Dhabi official who serves free biryani to 4,000 people daily. In my 7-going-on-8 months’ stay in a city as “rich” as Dubai, I have come across people who are living below the poverty belt. These people are expats who come to the U.A.E. dreaming of a better life but oftentimes end up in situations far worse than from where they had started. For these people, some friendless and jobless to boot, a free meal is nothing short of a Godsend.

Besides, who doesn’t love good ol’ biryani?

Now that Ramadan has come to a close – and I can finally (finally!) drain cold bottled water to my heart’s content under the blistering Middle Eastern summer heart (without criminal liability) – I can look back at my first Ramadan in Dubai with fond memories rather than fear and paranoia.