Day 32 - Kuwait
Today was Labor Day, and I had the day off. I took it easy much like most folks back home. I woke up, had breakfast, went back to my room and started in on a catch-up list of reading and writing. About mid-morning I decided to head downstairs for an InnerFight workout, and made it through the entire set. As lunchtime approached I was brought face-to-face with the reality that today is the start of Ramadan.
Ramadan is a special month on the Islamic calendar. The main feature of this month, as many of you know, is that devout Muslims fast from sunrise to sunset. They neither eat nor drink, and the placement of anything in one's mouth is forbidden. In fact the most devout will go so far as to continually expel the saliva from their mouths for fear of violating the prophet's edict.
There are several interesting side effects of this. For starters, restaurants are closed during the day as nobody can be seen eating or drinking in public. If one is caught breaking this law, they are invited to be guests of the city lock-up through the end of the month. Because many people have low blood sugar, many other businesses are slow if not closed for the day. Now hotels have to accomodate foreigners and other "unbelievers", so they place curtains over the entrances to their restaurants, and the windows are covered lest a passer-by see the goings-on and resort to some regrettable action.
With all this activity on hold throughout the day, nightfall is when people catch up on it. After the sunset prayers, a "break-fast" is celebrated, which often is a lavish, celebratory feast. In fact, in today's Kuwait Times I read an article which told that overall food sales increase during this month due to the feasting and celebration that takes place during the sunset-to-sunrise hours.
Additionally, the city wakes up at night in a remarkable way. People are out and about, stores and malls are super-busy, and business hours extend much later than usual to give people an opportunity to get done what they haven't done all day long. Traffic can be a nightmare, and mall parking is more ferocious than usual.
So for lunch, I ordered room service. The plate of kabobs was plentiful enough that I saved half for dinner later on. And as lunch gave way to the afternoon I caught up on some of the things I've been needing to do for a while.
In the evening I went out to the tennis courts and met up with Leah, Matt and Caroline. When we got there the water bottles were not on the water dispensers - another casualty of Ramadan. In fact, I had noticed this earlier when I was downstairs in the gym. Fortunately the hotel worker who had come and unlocked the tennis courts was still nearby, so I told him to bring a 5-gallon jug of water for the dispenser. He said that it was Ramadan, and I told him that it was after nightfall and that he needed to bring it out. Five minutes later we had water on the court. It was such a humid night that it took about 15 minutes of playing for me to be sweating from every pore, completely soaking my shirt and shorts. My racket handle was wet, and I had no dry spot to use whatsoever. So I'm glad he brought the water. After a short layoff from tennis, though, my shot-making was even less than before and I never quite got into a rhythm. That and a racket which was swimming in my hand led to our demise 3-6, 4-6. If it weren't for the fact we were using doubles lines, it would have been worse.
Back in the room I Skyped home and chatted with my dad as well. For anyone planning a trip away from home, take Skype with you. Using this videophone technology has significantly closed the perceived distance. I have been gone from home 4 1/2 weeks, but it doesn't feel that long. We've been able to keep in touch and spend quality time with family.
Tomorrow I'm back to work. Talk to you then.
Blessings,
Khalaf.
Ramadan is a special month on the Islamic calendar. The main feature of this month, as many of you know, is that devout Muslims fast from sunrise to sunset. They neither eat nor drink, and the placement of anything in one's mouth is forbidden. In fact the most devout will go so far as to continually expel the saliva from their mouths for fear of violating the prophet's edict.
There are several interesting side effects of this. For starters, restaurants are closed during the day as nobody can be seen eating or drinking in public. If one is caught breaking this law, they are invited to be guests of the city lock-up through the end of the month. Because many people have low blood sugar, many other businesses are slow if not closed for the day. Now hotels have to accomodate foreigners and other "unbelievers", so they place curtains over the entrances to their restaurants, and the windows are covered lest a passer-by see the goings-on and resort to some regrettable action.
With all this activity on hold throughout the day, nightfall is when people catch up on it. After the sunset prayers, a "break-fast" is celebrated, which often is a lavish, celebratory feast. In fact, in today's Kuwait Times I read an article which told that overall food sales increase during this month due to the feasting and celebration that takes place during the sunset-to-sunrise hours.
Additionally, the city wakes up at night in a remarkable way. People are out and about, stores and malls are super-busy, and business hours extend much later than usual to give people an opportunity to get done what they haven't done all day long. Traffic can be a nightmare, and mall parking is more ferocious than usual.
So for lunch, I ordered room service. The plate of kabobs was plentiful enough that I saved half for dinner later on. And as lunch gave way to the afternoon I caught up on some of the things I've been needing to do for a while.
In the evening I went out to the tennis courts and met up with Leah, Matt and Caroline. When we got there the water bottles were not on the water dispensers - another casualty of Ramadan. In fact, I had noticed this earlier when I was downstairs in the gym. Fortunately the hotel worker who had come and unlocked the tennis courts was still nearby, so I told him to bring a 5-gallon jug of water for the dispenser. He said that it was Ramadan, and I told him that it was after nightfall and that he needed to bring it out. Five minutes later we had water on the court. It was such a humid night that it took about 15 minutes of playing for me to be sweating from every pore, completely soaking my shirt and shorts. My racket handle was wet, and I had no dry spot to use whatsoever. So I'm glad he brought the water. After a short layoff from tennis, though, my shot-making was even less than before and I never quite got into a rhythm. That and a racket which was swimming in my hand led to our demise 3-6, 4-6. If it weren't for the fact we were using doubles lines, it would have been worse.
Back in the room I Skyped home and chatted with my dad as well. For anyone planning a trip away from home, take Skype with you. Using this videophone technology has significantly closed the perceived distance. I have been gone from home 4 1/2 weeks, but it doesn't feel that long. We've been able to keep in touch and spend quality time with family.
Tomorrow I'm back to work. Talk to you then.
Blessings,
Khalaf.
