Ramadan Kareem

This photo captures Ramadan in Egypt. In this downtown square in Cairo, you can see the colorful streamers strung between buildings and the traditional "fanos" lanterns hanging overhead. The sun will soon set. The bread-bike man is making his rounds as Misha looks on. The time to break the fast is drawing near; restaurants are opening, delicious smells are wafting into the streets, moods are lifting. Some couples already sit patiently at their tables, touching neither their appetizers nor their drinks until they hear the Call to Prayer.

Our class ended the day before Ramadan, which worked out perfectly for us. The following day, we took the train once again from Alex to Cairo to meet Bud and Ashley (who got a good deal on their plane tickets for flying during the Muslim holy month).


Misha perches on the luggage while waiting for our train.

During the days leading up to Ramadan in our little suburb of Agami, I noticed a feeling of excitement in the air, not unlike the anticipation preceding Christmas. Ramadan and Christmas are, respectively, probably the most significant holidays for the Muslim world and the West. Colored strings of lights even graced buildings, making the connection more so. Below, you can see the decorations in our housing complex where we stayed while taking the class.



Misha helped a staff member wipe the dust off this lantern, which now shines brightly:


Two days before Ramadan, I walked to the little grocery store to get a few things. Under normal circumstances, this store has little room to spare, with its narrow aisles and any free space used for stacks of soap, bread, or batteries. On this day, the store was packed with shoulder-to-shoulder consumers barely maneuvering carts filled to the brim with rice, sugar, juice, and dates. Cheerful Ramadan music was playing and everyone had the air of making grand preparations. Luckily, I had only a few things to buy, and when I finally navigated my way to the counter to pay, a sweet lady with a full cart let me go in front of her. With a grateful smile, I obliged.

The night before Ramadan we went for a little walk and were surprised at how desolate the usually-lively streets were. The shops were closed. Everyone was, for once, at home this evening with family, getting ready for the month of fasting ahead.

Starting right away the next day, it was very clear that no one was eating, no one drinking, no one was smoking. The train station, normally filled with people smoking on the platforms, was refreshingly non-smoky. On the train, the snack vendors still walked by, but half-heartedly, without expecting anyone to buy anything.

Streets in Cairo were bursting with decorations as well. Narrow alleyways were filled with color, like in this picture below.

The "Bussy Cat" bar and cafe (Arabic doesn't distinguish the sounds /p/ and /b/, which explains the misspelled "pussy cat") on the right is most likely closed. Foreigners could seek out alcohol in touristy places such as certain hotels, though these establishments make it clear that they will not serve alcohol to Egyptians during Ramadan.

Throughout the month, the typical greeting is "Ramadan Kareem," meaning "generous Ramadan." You would hear it from your cashier as he handed you your change, see it on signs and store windows, and overhear it as two people greeted each other in the street. Ramadan nourishes a spirit of charity, and we saw many examples of community tables set up in the street where everyone would come and break the fast together.


Ruby Tuesday in Cairo's huge City Stars mall wishes everyone a "Ramadan Kareem."