Shawwal

I have spoken about the holiest month of the Islamic Calendar, that of Ramadan, when Muslims around the world fast from dusk to dawn.  It is a different time, a quiet time.. reflective.. peaceful.. at least during the day and in all the Muslim countries I have visited.  People seem to take a breath during Ramadan.. they think more about the spiritual side of life.

I have great respect for most Muslims during Ramadan. 

There are twelve months in the Islamic Calendar, just as there are in the Gregorian Calendar, but they are lunar: like the cycle of a woman, they flow with the tides.. with the moon.   But a lunar calendar doesn’t fit so well into the cycles of the rest of the world.. or the seasons. 

Islam marches on to the beat of its own drummer..

Ramadan is the 9^th month of this lunar calendar and this year it fell almost exactly over the same time period as the month of August, our 8^th month.  The first month of the Islamic year is Muharram.. it is the second most holy month and one which fighting is forbidden. 

I hope this is so. 

The 10^th month, Shawwal has almost come to an end here in Malaysia:   the month when “She camels raise their tails”?.. hmm.. not exactly sure what that is about, and no.. I did not make this up – found it on Wikopedia folks!  

But around here, Shawwal is not about the camels, none of those about.  No.. Shawwal has been all about the food. 

It seems that in Malaysia, every good Muslim must have fifty (that number I made up.. but I bet I am close!)  of their closest friends over for dinner at some time during the month. 

After fasting for 28 days, why not celebrate with food for another month?!  It is a great time.  But busy…

Friday was the last Friday of Shawwal and while they do not take Fridays off in the state of Selangor here in Malaysia, they still regard it as the holiest day of the week.  They are sure to say their prayers and treat each other with even more respect than usual.  The last Friday of this month seems to also be a time for celebration.

Vas and I were invited over to a couple of schools, but we had to choose just one: SK Sungai Limau called at a good time, so off we went.  By 9 a.m. it was fish soup and noodles for all.. but it was more than that. 

The food was laid out like a huge buffet.  There were the usual speeches, but the prayers and speeches quickly gave way to the food.. the Malay way of celebration.  The students were invited in to the common room, a grade at a time, and were encouraged to help themselves to a huge buffet.

I am not sure this would have worked at home.

For one thing, there was two whole tables of ‘sweets’ and the children did head there maybe a tad early, but they were organized, and controlled.. and polite.  They had brought their own cups and plates, and filled them up without over doing it.  It was a pleasure to see their eyes light up as they gazed at the table.. laden with chocolates, cookies.. cakes.. candies.. with pure pleasure. They took their time and chose wisely, some returning over and over again, but never pushing or taking more than they could eat. 

The teachers stayed out of the way, busy with their own plate filling and eating celebration.. and when they approached for yet another helping, the kids would respectively move out of the way. 

Vas got his pictures taken with blushing women.  They are so shy, but that didn’t stop the teachers from wanting to talk to him.. sit with him.. get their picture taken with him.  They didn’t want to actually look at him though.. too bad: Vassi was looking pretty dash.. in his proper shirt, jeans and boots.. quite respectful. 

I had on a skirt.. first time and probably the last for a while at least.  Yes..  we looked pretty good but were certainly outdone by everyone else!

The children had shed their simple school uniforms for traditional Malay clothes.. the boys with little black caps, silken pyjama-like outfits with colourful skirts..  The girls, dressed like the women, in colourful silk dresses covering lovely long skirts and sporting brilliant scarves: and smiles.

My camera battery died .. of course…  but I did get one. 

And later that evening, we were at it again.. eating, this time at one of Guru Besar’s homes here in Sabak Bernam.  Sitting on the floor surrounded with children and familiy.. feeling like it was Christmas yet again..

People here are a lot more open.. friendlier than I found them in Oman. 

In some areas of Malaysia I know the mentors do not feel particularly welcome.  And even here, in our little corner by the river, there are not a lot of camels around,  certainly none with lifted tails!  However, the doors are open during this colourful month of Shawwal and we have been well fed!

Salamat Hari Riya Eidalfitre! 

Still…