Fasting is a secret religious obligation. No person can really be certain that you are in fact withholding from food and drink, and it's very easy to pretend to be fasting. Eat in private, sneak a sip of water, or gorge yourself at home - no one really knows except, well, God. People can see you go to the mosque, pray, even give alms, but fasting is truly something that is an act of the heart. For western Muslims the entire month is more or less a secret because the larger community isn't celebrating it, and even those who know it is Ramadan will invariably forget and ask you out to lunch anyway.
But when done in a city like Cairo where practically everyone is participating, even though the fast may still be a secret, culturally it is not. With the special foods, sweets, decorated homes and mosques, the glowing lanterns and the competing sounds of prayers from across the city, Ramadan is hard to miss in Cairo. This year I have a few friends who are fasting for the first time; some are converts, others have just decided to make a commitment to become observant of the fast.
It was great to see how really determined they were to make it through those days, for their own reasons. While I am used to working in environments where people don't know I'm not eating or drinking during Ramadan, this year it has been very helpful having colleagues so motivated to observe and complete the fast. Trying to avoid watching non-fasting colleagues eat lunch, or attempting to ignore the sweet aroma of freshly made coffee in the office, it's always easier doing it with someone else. And then at sunset, getting our meals ready together, sharing a date or a glass of juice, it brings a sense of community to Ramadan that is genuine and in the true spirit of the month.
This year, our office had a large iftar where everyone including the office boys brought food and drinks. I made a lasagne, while others went a more traditional and impressive route, bringing stuffed pigeons and other delights. The last 10 days of Ramadan are the holiest of the month - Muslims believe the Quran was revealed on one of those days - but they are also the most difficult. Some of my friends and colleagues have commented how they wished Ramadan was only 20 days long, that a month is just too much. I must admit the thought that 30 days is too much never crossed my mind, but it is easy to see the fatigue on people's faces and in yourself in the last 10 days.
While many people are sad to see Ramadan leave, the days just following the end of Ramadan have a New Year kind of feel to them - fresh, new and optimistic. It's easy to make new resolutions and build on the spiritual high of the past month. But I've tried to reflect on what can make those last 10 difficult days less unbearable. Perhaps the secret is to make the fasting a secret again. To keep the fast a personal struggle, and a gift for God, with minimum celebration, fewer iftar parties, and more self-reflection.
Fasting really isn't just about simply not eating or drinking. Self-deprivation is purely physical. But when the spiritual element of discipline, gratitude, and self-awareness are thrown into the mix, the effect is enlightening and rewarding. It just makes it that much more easier. The smell of that coffee may be sweet, but hopefully a cleansed spirit will feel even sweeter. Hadeel al Shalchi is a writer for the Associated Press, based in Cairo