Tanksgiving & Ramadan

This startling news article discusses the paradoxical relationship
between American and Arab culture - we eat, and they fast.  But somehow
there is something in common.  Since Ramadan is a *lunar* month, its
beginning and ending points (at successsive new moons) vary.

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quote:
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http://www.dailybruin.ucla.edu/news/articles.asp?id=26555

The similar essence of Ramadan and Thanksgiving
A first-person take on two seemingly polar events

By Sabaa Saleem
DAILY BRUIN SENIOR STAFF
[EMAIL PROTECTED]

For the first time in more than 30 years, Eid-al-Fitr, today's
celebration that signals the end of Ramadan, falls on the same week of
Thanksgiving. 

At first, I see an obvious disconnect between the Islamic holy month of
Ramadan and the American tradition of Thanksgiving ? 30 days of fasting
compared to the much-loved American tradition of stuffing oneself into
immobility by feasting on turkey, apple pie and other goodies. 

A better-known association is the one presented by many media outlets ?
between Ramadan and an increase in terrorist attacks abroad. It is a
connection that has been noted by the U.S. Department of Homeland
Security, the FBI and the U.S. administration in Iraq. 

As a Muslim and an American, I see a more subtle association, one that
is more localized and familiar. Though Ramadan is a religious holiday
and Thanksgiving a national one, I have happily celebrated both. Over
the years, I've noticed that both have similar and specific cultural
functions that may not be identical, but are definitely similar: to
bring people together so they can set aside their differences and
express thankfulness for what they've been given. 

My family knew when to begin observing Ramadan based on a particular
phase on the lunar calendar. My parents always took my brothers and me
outside at twilight to search the skies for the new moon which would
signal the first day of fasting. For the whole lunar month ? either 29
or 30 days ? we were supposed to fast from sunrise to sunset. 

A few hours before sunset, my mother would begin to prepare the food we
would eat at "iftar," or the breaking of the fast. I would hover around
her, smelling the food when I was fasting, mischievously sampling it
when I wasn't. Every weekend, my family would have iftar parties, where
they invited friends and family to break the fast together. The iftar
parties not only helped create bonds between my family and other Muslim
families, it also gave us a chance to explain the practice to
non-Muslims who were curious about the customs of the holy month. 

Our explanations were oddly reflective of a situation years earlier,
when my parents first immigrated to the United States. Their new friends
and neighbors introduced them to the grand tradition of sharing,
tolerance and gathering that accompanies Thanksgiving. 

In the same way, we would celebrate Eid-al-Fitr by gathering with other
Muslims to pray, donate to charity, talk, eat and give gifts or money.
There were only a few of us because I grew up in a little town in the
Mojave Desert, but it was still my favorite time of year. We would
celebrate the day as a culmination of all the fasting we had completed
and the lessons we had learned. 

When I was in elementary school, Ramadan fell during the summertime. The
fasts were much longer because the sun rose early and set late. As one
can imagine, there was a significant amount of mental griping that went
on when my parents suggested I fast. The funny thing is, that same
griping occurred on Thanksgiving, when my mother told me to keep my
hands off the feast she was preparing. My favorite battleground was the
oven-fresh apple pie that she defended from the family's impatient
fingers. 

I always looked forward to Ramadan because of the iftar parties, the
special food my mother made, and the excitement of Eid-al-Fitr. I looked
forward to Thanksgiving for the dinner party, the special food my mother
made, and the blissful feeling I got after eating as much as possible
and settling on the couch for the traditional Thanksgiving movie. 

During Ramadan in later years, I also learned to appreciate the
individual efforts each family member made to be more giving, tolerant
and peaceful toward strangers as well as family. On both holidays, my
parents constantly remind me to show my thankfulness and charity. 

My parents have led by example. During Thanksgiving, my mother always
has my father take extra food to homeless people they know around our
small town or to people who they know couldn't afford a full turkey
dinner. During Ramadan, they have given generously to organizations such
as the local women's shelter and homeless charities or children's funds.

Similarly, people in my hometown, like people across the United States,
hold food drives in the weeks before Thanksgiving so that more people
can have full Thanksgiving dinners. Together, Ramadan and Thanksgiving
have encouraged me to appreciate the source of my food and show charity
to others. My brothers and I were taught to help people less fortunate
than us, show tolerance and patience, spend time in spiritual
introspection and, above all, to improve the world around us through
acts of charity. 

Ramadan has never been about personal glory or vengeance. Thus it pains
me to see an event that is intended to promote quiet contemplation,
charity and spirituality become associated with terror due to the
vicious and un-Islamic behavior of extremists. 

During the first Thanksgiving, a new relationship was formed between two
very different groups of people. However briefly, they sat together and
shared their cultures. Today, during this rare time when we have a
juxtaposition of two important events, if you take a moment to give
thanks, to appreciate what you have ? in that moment you will completely
understand not just Thanksgiving, but Ramadan as well.

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Om Tryambakam Yajamahe
Viveshwar