Ramadan and the Single Girl
Fasting as a single woman, perhaps I will reach its truer meaning--sympathy for those who are hungry, hurting, and alone.
BY: Asma Gull Hasan
This article first appeared on Beliefnet in 2003.
As I begin my annual Ramadan fast this week, I'm not celebrating the way my mother did in Pakistan, or even the way I did as a child in Colorado. My mom's Ramadan dining table was filled with South Asian delicacies. She and her brothers, sister, and parents would gather just before sunset to open their fasts for the iftaar meal. Freshly fried onion fritters with mint chutney; spicy lamb chops with tamarind and plum chutney; soft, hot, doughy naans as well as fried tortilla-type bread called "parathas"; chicken tikka with another kind of bread called "chappatis"; pudding made of carrots grown on my grandfather's farm and other sweet dishes called "halwa."
My mother and her siblings would sit before this grand table, eyeing the items that my grandmother had spent the whole day preparing and whose scent had filled their home.
For me, this same rite of opening the fast includes warming leftover pasta in my microwave. If I'm feeling spunky, I might order Indian food for delivery. My dinner companion is Alex Trebek, hosting Jeopardy. I pray by myself and then decide whether or not to go to the gym. The only scent filling my apartment is from my neighbor's evening cigar.
If I were married, as I should have been 10 years ago under Pakistani cultural standards, I would not be opening my fast alone. And this Ramadan, like me, many Gen X Muslim women will also be fasting alone. According to statistics compiled by the Islamic Society of North America (ISNA), American Muslim women in their twenties and thirties outnumber Muslim men in the same age group two to one.
Ramadan is family time. My mother and her family, for instance, after eating the feast at iftaar would pray together and then have another meal - dinner - together, where they would discuss the day's events and plan the next day's fast. Traditionally, the last 10 days of Ramadan in Muslim countries are filled with frenzy in preparation for the Eid holiday that comes at the end of the month. The wedding season begins soon thereafter, packing schedules with nightly wedding events. Eligible women are at the dressmaker's store daily, begging the head tailor to complete the new, fancy outfits they commissioned before Ramadan. They want to look their best at the weddings - the site of much matchmaking in Pakistan.
For Muslim women in America, however, finding a mate is not so simple. Many female readers of my first book have recently begun asking: where do I meet eligible men who are my age, who will support my career and help me raise a family, and who are also Muslim? This query was probably the most frequent one I heard when I attended the Islamic Society of North America (ISNA) Convention on Labor Day Weekend. (I also heard, quite frequently, "Wearing hijab is required," from Muslim men about the same age.) The fact that these women were asking at ISNA shows how dire the situation has become. ISNA is populated primarily by immigrant Muslims and their children. Because there is no matchmaking wedding season in America, ISNA fills the void. How? To put it bluntly, the annual convention is known as a "meat market," where second-generation Muslims flock from all over the country to check each other out.