Salamu alaikum and Ramadan mubarak!

Where do I begin? Well I guess 2:30 in the morning when the alarm went off. Having not slept until past midnight, you will understand why it took a good half hour before I managed to have both my eyes open at the same time.
Boy I couldn’t have been less hungry at silly o’clock, but like a trooper I made up my porridge with fruit, hard boiled egg on wholemeal bread and water with lemon. I ate it all with minimal angry tired mutterings too.

suhoor

suhoor: What I forced fed myself at 3am

Then there was my first ever wudu (certain way of cleaning before prayer). Hands three times, face, ears, hair, arms, nose, feet (the correct order is already lost on me), well it certainly perked me up.
The actual prayer itself? Well to be fair I didn’t really know what I was doing. I followed my husbands movements, listened to his Arabic words. I could tell the meaning was a bit lost on me when I noticed I was thinking that the carpet didn’t smell how I imagined it would, instead of God. But right now I am just going through the motions, I really must get the English translation, there is no hope with me connecting to words I don’t understand.
I crawled back into bed at 4am and realised it was bloody hard to get back to sleep with a full tummy and freshly splashed face. As you can imagine when my son woke me up nice and early I was doing my usual morning errands in a zombie state.

I finally got to wear one of my new hijabs out in the world, and had zero issue walking outside my door with it on.

Attemping to wrap my hijab

It was perfectly colour coordinated with my t-shirt, denim jacket and jeans (all suitably wide and long), and I even managed a strong wrap so I was able to walk around hardly noticing the new thing on my head. People’s reactions were nonexistent. I got the same amount of polite smiles, doors being held open and small talk, as ever (when I’m walking around with my toddler that is, without him people don’t bother with an acknowledgement). My town isn’t far from London, so although we are not incredibly diverse, hijabs are not a total rarity either.
The weather played nice, giving the same grey skies as England has known most of summer. I felt comfortable in my clothes and relaxed. I do wonder what the reactions will be of people who know me, but not the experiment (such as neighbours).
I made sure I was home for the other prayer times, one of which was without my husband as he was at work. To compensate I had a youtube video open and copied from there. I have to say these later prayers were as far from meditation as you can get. My son has rarely seen his father pray, so seeing me perform those movements were a bit of a novelty. He was climbing on my back, running between my legs, going under my skirt, etc, and when he wasn’t bothering me, he was bothering the dog, so I had to keep a close eye on the pair.
Prayer- five times a day, every day. How many Muslims reading this actually do that? It seems so much. Maybe once I get used to it, understand the words, then finding it a welcome relaxation will come. Right now however, out of all the things I am trying to do: Hijab, fast, reading Quran etc, it is the prayers that I’m struggling with.

So let’s talk about the fast. I feel like I must have eaten in some dreamlike state throughout the day because come evening I felt absolutely fine! Once or twice in the day I felt hunger pangs, but mostly I just wanted to eat, instead of felt the need to eat. By the end however I felt as if I had eaten breakfast just an hour before.
I broke my fast with a glass of pure orange juice and a date and fig. I prayed before having my main meal: lamb tabbouleh. I ate a portion size equal to any day and felt absolutely stuffed. What will I be praying for in my fajr (dawn) prayer? That the whole of Ramadan will be as easy as today!
Ok, so honesty time: I wasn’t perfect. In the morning when I opened a yogurt drink for my son I licked the lid automatically. I immediately realised what I done and was able to wipe my tongue before swallowing. Another thing, when my son dropped his lollypop on the floor I done the typical mothers thing of giving it a quick suck to clean it before handing it back to him. Old habits die hard. There were some times when the little devil on my shoulder whispered: “just take a bite, no one will know”, and yes of course I could technically lie all I want here, but I can’t lie to myself. At the very least I’m determined to have a sense of an achievement at the end of the month.

Tomorrow will be my first day at work as a Muslim. I realised today I actually forgot to give a heads up to my general manager, who also happens to be the one who works Saturday mornings. I think if I do recieve a negative reaction it will be from keeping her in the dark instead of the actual concept though. I work around food and it will be an incredibly busy shift, so I have a feeling my prayers for all days to be as easy as this one will go answered. Oh god, I can smell the hotdogs now!

Now I must sleep. It was likely this total exhaustion that kept the hunger at bay today- I lose appetite when tired- but I think I’d rather be hungry to be honest.
We still haven’t been able to figure out the accurate Fijr time for my town! Anyway…
Ma’a salama

Advertisements