Less is more during Ramadan

ANKARA, Turkey — As twilight turned to night, roads that 20 minutes earlier were choked with impatient cars in twisted gridlock became calm. Congested sidewalks emptied, and a scattered few now meandered down the streets. The call to prayer echoed through the neighborhood. Allah-hu-akbar … It was time for iftar in Balgat, a neighborhood in Ankara, Turkey.

Muslims worldwide fasted 30 days for Ramadan, their holiest season. Devout Muslims will abstain not only from food and water during daylight hours, but other items like cigarettes will not touch their lips. Life for many Turkish residents, even if they aren’t practicing Muslims, revolves around the sundown dinners, called iftar, where observant Muslims break the daylong fast.

Imagine celebrating a mini-Thanksgiving dinner every night for 40 days, or so it seems to me.  During Ramadan, observers rotate invitations to their families or friends. Even I, a stranger, attended at least 15 different iftars, some large, some small, some formal, some not.

"It’s the best time to invite people to your home," said Mehmet Canpolat, "It’s a time for sharing dinner, sharing life."

I had iftar several times with Mehmet, his wife Malek, their 4-year-old daughter and their spirited 10-year-old son, who always asked if I was fasting. After I said no, he replied proudly that I didn’t have the muscle because I wasn’t Muslim.

Iftars with the family were usually simple. Mehmet would watch TV, waiting for the signal broadcast on Turkish stations that it was time eat. Dates, the traditional fruit the prophet Muhammed used to break his fast, lay on the table with large bowls of soup, plenty of fresh bread, salad and a main course. After dinner, the family and I would settle in the parlor for dessert, tea and plenty of fruit.

Iftars at home include families or neighbors, but restaurants serve iftar, as well.  Ranging from city-funded free dinners for the poor in tents to meals at Turkey’s high-end restaurants, groups flooded eateries that lay mostly empty during the day. In Balgat, it took three tries before finding a restaurant with one lonely table amid a feverishly hungry crowd that the wait staff scrambled to serve.

Like Christmas in the West, Turkey’s capitalistic markets have taken advantage of seasonal Ramadan. Cell phone companies, clothing retailers and other retailers advertise special sales for Ramadan and Bayram, the holiday ending the month of fasting. Restaurants and supermarkets publicize special meal deals.

"The important thing is not iftars," Zeynel Oz told me over Turkish tea at his home. "What’s important is fasting, not iftars."

Practicing and more devout Muslims like Zeynel and Mehmet are not always happy with Turkey’s commercialization of the holiday. Zeynel scoffed when I referred to the Bayram holidays as Seker Bayram (Sugar Holidays). In Turkey, traditions have emerged where children go door to door looking for candy treats from neighbors and family. Just like the U.S. during Halloween, candy retailers push Seker Bayram festivities.

Discipline is the real lesson of Ramadan, according to Mehmet and Zeynel.

"All humans want everything," said Zeynel. "But God says, ‘No, not everything.’ "

Mehmet grew up in Istanbul and started fasting in university. Like Zeynel, he sees it as an opportunity to cleanse the spirit and discipline the body.

"The main point is a whole behavioral change," Mehmet said. "You must be a good man, woman, kid — whatever you are."

These ideals are the ones that Mehmet and his wife Malek admired the most. They agreed that during Ramadan, many try to live up to these ideals.

Some in Turkey worry about the growing popularity and religiosity during Ramadan as a harbinger of fundamentalist expansion. The secular government allows minority voices on both ends of its political spectrum, but continues to uphold its constitution.

Zeynel prays during Ramadan that conflicts can be reconciled and people will respect each other. When asked about an Islamist takeover, Zeynel said he doesn’t want to force his religious views on anyone.

"The fundamentalists are a problem, and they cause issues for more modern religious people," said Zeynel. "The Koran tells me to be modern … I don’t see modernity and religion as opposing forces. They are in the same glass."

This report comes from a journalist in our Student Correspondent Corps, a GlobalPost project training the next generation of foreign correspondents while they study abroad.