Plain Talk
By
Mursi Saad El-Din
One of my favourite actions during Ramadan is to stand in my balcony just before the iftar canon is fired and enjoy the deep silence that envelopes the world -- a cut with a knife. This experience, which lasts about 15 minutes, is an opportunity to ponder over things and people. The complete stillness of everyone and everything tends to take me back to my youth, when celebrating the holy month was serious business. I remember how we used to hold our Ramadan lamps (which during those days were lit by candles, not battery powered) and go around the streets in little groups chanting Wahawi yawahawi and accepting the grown-ups' gifts of sweets -- a procedure not unlike Christmas caroling in the December snow.
Another thing the silence brought back to my mind a few days ago, was the picture of Ramadan in Edward Lane's classic 18th-century masterpiece, Manners and Customs of Modern Egyptians. I don't know why this book always comes to my mind when I think of things past. Maybe it is the fact that I wrote the introduction to the Everyman edition in 1954. At this stage I often feel obliged to remind my friends who read the book that I wrote the introduction in 1954, not two centuries ago. Now let me turn the pages of the book and read how Lane described the Cairo scene during Ramadan. First I must add that Lane's book is a most authentic portrayal of life in Egypt in those days. Being an eloquent speaker of Arabic, acquiring an Arabic name and donning the attire of Egyptians, he was able to live among Egyptians, sharing in their joys and sorrows, and participating in every social and religious activity they undertook.
Lane describes Ramadan in detail, from the day it begins until its end with the arrival of the Eid, the feast that follows it. The night on which Ramadan is expected is called Leylet er- Ru'yah, the night when the new moon is sighted. The appearance of the new moon (crescent) marks the beginning of the a new year of the Hijra. According to Muslim law, the new moon should be sighted with the naked eye, without recourse to any equipment. This explains the fact that in some Muslim countries Ramadan starts a day earlier. In Lane's day the so called sighters would go a few miles into the desert, where, according to Lane "the air is particularly clear. On seeing the new moon," he explains, "a procession used to begin composed of officials as well as the Sheikhs of several trades (millers, bakers, slaughtermen, sellers of meat, oilmen and fruiterers, with several other members of each of these trades." The streets through which the procession passes would be lined with festive spectators.
Ramadan begins the following day. Lane gives a minute description of Cairo during the fasting month. In Ramadan, he writes, "instead of seeing, as at other times, many of the passengers in the streets with the pipe in the hand, we now see them empty-handed until near sunset, or carrying a stick of cane or a string of beads." The streets in the morning had a dull appearance, many of the shops being shut. Lane remarks that during Ramadan people "are, generally speaking, very morose: in the night after fetour (breakfast), they are unusually affable and cheerful." Lane then details the food consumed during the month, with emphasis on the special Ramadan sweets. Ramadan nights then, just as now, were lively and humorous. Coffee shops became the sites of entertainment where people enjoyed mint tea and shisha. Some cafes even offered live performances by epic singers, poets or musicians -- something that went on every night of the month. The minarets of all the mosques reflected dazzling lights, he reports, and the streets were filled with people during most the night. Many shops, shut in the morning, now opened. "Night," Lane writes, "is thus turned into day."
Lane goes on to describe the Musahharati who went around beating his tabla to remind people of the time of sohour, which is the last meal before the fasting begins. As well as a transcription of the words the Musahharati chanted, Lane provides the musical notation of his tabla beats. It is fascinating to go through Lane's book, picturing how our predecessors of not so long ago lived. The times are no doubt changing, yet I am the three beats of the Musahharati's tabla still wake me every night.
