I've spent most of my Ramadans in Islamic school, where homework was assigned with the two-hour late-night prayers in mind and, at 2 p.m., when I was staring glassy-eyed at my math teacher, she completely understood. All our teachers did, since they fasted with us, prayed with us, struggled as we did for self-betterment and nearness to God. It is a unique feeling to see your teacher as your sister, or to be standing in prayer late at night in the mosque, exhausted and maybe a little back-sore, and have one of your peers suddenly appear by your side, shoulder to shoulder with you.
"Did you study for the bio test?" I would ask afterward.
"You kidding me? I fell asleep as soon as I got home."
Admittedly, classes at BC are somewhat different. They lack the spiritual component I'm used to in Ramadan, and I struggle with ordering my priorities. Acquiring knowledge, applying oneself, that's a religious duty - but duties only go so far in the heart, and I find myself torn.
Most times, though, sheer physical exhaustion usually kicks in, and I'm saved any decision. After classes, I get back to my room, force myself to pray the second prayer of the day, and then collapse onto my bed. Sometimes I manage to get work done, but usually I'm simply too tired or hungry to focus. All attempts at reading find me asleep on my bed surrounded by books that are mostly academic, some clothes, loose paper, and a frustratingly uncomfortable Rubik's Cube that manages to get jammed in there somehow. Come sunset, I'm usually woken up by a friend to pray and eat.
Breaking fast at sunset is usually cause for celebration, and Muslims have a long tradition of throwing dinners, called iftars, for fellow community members to enjoy. When I was living at home, it felt like there was a party every day. If we weren't visiting family or friends, we broke fast at the mosque, and if we were at home, that was fine, too; my mom or one of my grandmothers, maybe even a cousin or an aunt, would whip up something appetizing, and the entire family would drop whatever they were doing to eat. In my family, this meant the boys dragged themselves away from their video games, my father left his cell phone in his home office, I shut off the computer, and my mom and grandparents finally got the satisfaction of a family meal.
Spring Break
