Ramadan in an Arabian country.

I think I will take the opportunity of talking about Ramadan, given that we are in the unusual position of being residents in the Middle East in a Muslim country during this most auspicious time. Who knows, it may be my only Ramadan experience.

According to my research and reading of the local newspapers The Peninsula and Gulf Times; Ramadan is the month in which the first verses of the Qu'ran were revealed to the Prophet Mohammed. It is, therefore, considered a very holy and important time. It involves a month of fasting. This year it started on August 22 and ended on September 20. All good Muslims refrain from eating, drinking, smoking, sex, and anything considered to be in excess or ill-natured from dawn to sunset. Fasting is meant to teach the Muslim patience, modesty and spirituality, and is an attempt to purify oneself through self-restraint and good deeds. It is a time of reflection and reading of the Qu'ran.

As a non-Muslim ex-pat, Ramadan has been a revelation. It feels somewhat like being a fish out of water, much the same as Muslims might feel when we celebrate Christmas in the West - consider all those decorations and lights in every mall, on every street, and in nearly every home. The festivity of Christmas all around for weeks on end, culminating in a day of celebration where all retail and business close their doors for 24 hours, whilst family and friends connect over a turkey dinner and gift giving (except those poor souls relegated to the Christmas shift at fast food outlets or working in emergency services).

Over here in the Middle East, Ramadan is in some ways just like that....except it continues for 30 days, but is very definitely a spiritual and religious period, leaving no room for the avid commercialism and consumerism that has overtaken in the West. There is sharing of food with friends, some quiet gift-giving at the end of fasting, and a set of new clothes to greet the new year. I admit, however, some amazement - I am not sure I could ever fast for approximately fifteen hours a day for 30 days, rise before sunrise (which is about 3.30am in these parts right now), eat a big meal, then off to the mosque to pray. Afterwards, join the traffic snarl, and get myself to work where not even a drop of water will pass my lips, and be able to hold off until prayer at sunset (about 6pm) before having my next meal.

As ex-pats we are included under the umbrella of fasting because all restaurants, fast-food chains, and coffee shops are closed down during Ramadan between sunrise and sunset so we can't have meals away from home. Those who go to work each day must quietly and surreptitiously eat their lunch behind closed doors, making sure no thai or curry flavours or tuna aromas waft enticingly into hallways. We have also been exhorted by our various embassies to respect the rules, so that means no drinking in public, including no visible water bottles on your person or in your car, also no gum chewing. And remember the temperatures are soaring into the late 40's and above! (For those of you wondering, the only liquor store in the country shuts down for the entire month. Only those with a valid liquor licence are able to purchase alcohol here, and all were eagerly lined up in the week before Ramadan with loads of the stuff, as people made sure they had their full quota of alcohol to tide them over the dry month.)

After sunset prayers and dinner, Muslims gear up to celebrate with friends and family - restaurants become lively beehives and the streets are jampacked with celebrants. Partying goes on all night in some cases, leaving no room for sleep as the day starts at about 2.30am anyway. Concessions are made - the work day is shortened to about 2 to 4 hours per day, but even then participants may take a quick snooze or nap at the desk. Plans are scaled down, meetings cancelled, and deadlines postponed. Business grinds to a halt. Retail stores are open between 10am and 12 if you're lucky, and then again from 8pm to 1am. Ex-pats can be seen scurrying into malls, frantically checking watches to beat the rush or slip in just in time. Most of us have been caught at some point uselessly peering into darkened and locked stores. And the number of times I passed by coffee shops just salivating to be let in.... On the plus side, traffic is a breeze during the day. On the negative, grocery shelves fail to serve up your favourite overseas brands as the container sits patiently dockside.

At the end of 30 days, Eid marks the end of Ramadan, known as the Festival of Breaking the Fast. It lasts for a period of 4 or 5 days when Muslims will donate to the poor, visit relatives and wear their new clothes, and generally celebrate the end of fasting.

The day after Eid, the world returns to normal and regular activities resume for another 11 months. Everyone shifts into their busy mode and life picks up a routine again. Ramadan certainly provides a jolt to the equilibrium and the scheduling for those of us observing from the sidelines.

Another experience for my treasure chest of memories.

Ramadan Mubarak!