Ramadan: Day 5

After leaving for a little over a month, I came back to the village refreshed and ready for Ramadan. Last year, I hated the month-long fasting period because everyone would ask me “Are you fasting?” “You can’t fast, you are not strong enough” “If you fast you must pray with us” etc. This got very frustrating. So, this year I am determined to not let what they say go to my head.

It’s like a social pressure to fast and even if you don’t, you say you are just to avoid criticism from others. The pregnant and lactating mothers still fast, the sick still fast…really you think more infant mortality and sickness would result from Ramadan in the Fuuta. I hear it’s a Senegalese thing; the bullying associated with Ramadan, if anyone has any insight let me know.

I did fast for one day thus far. Woke up at 5:30, had a granola bar, then went promptly back to bed. I did drink water (I know this kind of defeats the purpose), but I still don’t think I’m acclimated enough to living in the desert to go 14 hours without consuming anything. Not eating food is still prettttttty difficult. But, I managed and when the sun went down at Fuutoru I ate two spoonfuls of peanut butter, downed a bunch of Oreos, and inhaled a mango in the span of 10 minutes. Of course, I felt VERY sick afterwards. Really, Ramadan is very bad for your metabolism and overall general health.

I felt like I had accomplished something. I didn’t feel closer with any of my family members who had also spent the whole day fasting. A lot of volunteers have claimed that fasting brings them closer together with their family. They can relate to each other on a level they had previously not been able to reach. Good for those volunteers, I guess.

It did make me appreciate the fact that I have wonderful friends and family who send me food from America. I thought a lot about the people that don’t choose to fast, but do because they are too poor to provide food for their family. I can eat whenever I want (most of the time) and don’t have to worry about starvation because I always have enough money to at least buy a banana. Makes me feel a little guilty that I happened to be born in America and because of my status, I have certain privileges. If I realize these are privileges and if I am aware of other people in the world less fortunate than me that doesn’t make me that bad, right?