Ramazan, Bayram

Josh:

This month-long Muslim holiday of Ramazan (Turkish spelling) ended October 11, and I would be lying if I didn’t say I’m not relieved.  It’s not that we were fasting. Rather it was a tension that seemed to get heavier as the day progressed, until finally everyone got to break the fast with the evening call to prayer.  Class attendance predictably waned as the month progressed, and energy levels were quite low.  We were constantly changing class schedules as sundown got earlier in order to allow students to eat.  Some teachers claim to have witnessed more fights and car accidents than usual.  And although restaurants and donner kebap stands were open during the day, it was easy to project a sense of resentment on the fasting workers preparing our meals. 

But the moment the iftar (break-fast) call to prayer was sounded, the bustling city would go quiet as millions of mouths were stuffed with food.  In Bakirkoy, many shopkeepers would drag tables out in front of their stores to share their iftar meal with the other workers, brining business to a virtual standstill.  Every evening dozens of people would wait in line at the bakery to bring a loaf of the traditional sweet Ramazan bread home in time for iftar.  But three minutes before iftar, the bakery and street would suddenly go empty. 

At the steps of the Blue Mosque in Sultanahmet, thousands of people gather to share the iftar meal together.  Fellow teacher Gill joined us one evening to see what all the excitement was about.  Roughly sixty semi-permanent tents were erected to feed everyone simultaneously, turning the historic Hippodrome area into a sort of Muslim carnival.  After eating you could get your picture taken dressed as a sultan at one booth, or have your name written in Persian calligraphy on a plate at another.  My Istanbul students tell me it’s quite a tourist trap these days, though for Turkish tourists rather than foreigners like us.  You could see the excitement of Muslim women in full hijabs seeing the Blue Mosque for the first time, appreciating it in a way a non-Muslim like me simply couldn’t. 

Ramazan is followed by a three-day Bayram holiday celebrating the end of Ramazan.  Traditionally everyone visits their older relatives, who in turn cook (or buy) candies or desserts.  Ami and I incorrectly thought the holiday was more like Halloween where everyone goes door to door demanding candy, so we stocked up on a bunch of chocolates.  But the only person who came to our door was our landlady asking us to pay our utility bill, so we are still eating the candy to this day. 

But after two days of family visiting, most people spend the third vacation day going out with friends.  We joined a Turkish teacher and her two friends in downtown Taksim for a night out.  We were soaked by the heavy rain, which in turn caused the bar’s electricity to go out.  But unfazed we had a great time drinking beer by candlelight, swapping jokes, and teaching each other curse words with our new Turkish friends.  And to finish the night we all had the (in)famous Turkish hangover cure Kokorech, which is spicy lamb intestine in a sandwich (pretty good, actually, though we are told that Kokorech will not survive EU health regulations if Turkey is ever admitted).