The joys and frustrations of Ramzan

DUBAI, Oct 5: It's supposed to be a time of peace and piety, but it's really hard to stay spiritual while trying to get work done during Ramzan.

For one month of the lunar calendar, Muslims abstain from food, drink, sex, cigarettes and profanities from sunrise to sunset with the aim of purifying the body and soul.

But for many people such as journalists who have to work through the feast, fasting often breeds frustration.

The first thing that hits you is the caffeine withdrawal.

Bleary eyes and wandering minds are hallmarks of Ramzan. Rumbling stomachs and parched throats also make focusing on work difficult.

A popular Arabic newspaper, Asharq al-Awsat, summed it up well in a caricature of an employee, dressed in traditional Arab robes, sitting at his desk watching the seconds tick by until Iftar, the time to break the fast.

Even if you do summon the energy to work, getting interviews or information can be exhausting.

Labour laws in most countries in the Middle East require businesses to cut back their working hours, which means executives are busier and less inclined to talk.

Many officials, tired from lack of food and drink, work only after sunset, which means you often have to put in a full morning's work only to be at your desk at night.

This Ramzan, which started on September 23, a colleague had to stay in the office until almost midnight to speak to a Gulf official who had refused to take her calls while he was fasting.

And then there's the road rage.

Ramzan hours tend to be the same for both the private and public sectors, which means traffic gridlock as millions of commuters all try to use the same stretch of road.

As the time for Iftar nears, tempers fray further.

Stragglers race home through empty streets in the final minutes, and accidents are common -- traffic police in the West Asia are probably the only people who work overtime during Ramzan.

HUMAN SPIRIT

But this ''month of generosity'', as Ramzan is often called, can also be very rewarding. I have worked as a journalist for almost 14 years -- and have been fasting for many years before that -- and the holy month often helps restore my faith in humanity.

People, by and large, become more courteous. Non-Muslims take pains to avoid eating or drinking in front of their fasting colleagues. Everyone is more patient and understanding.

Colleagues you normally have little to do with seek you out to wish you a blessed Ramzan with the words 'Ramadan Mubarak' and a camraderie develops among those observing the fast.

Even the law appears to become more lenient.

Last Ramzan in Dubai, with less than an hour before Iftar and as I fantasised about coffee, I bumped into the car in front of me at the traffic light.

The police were summoned but they let me off without a fine, mainly because they could not be bothered to do the paperwork.

''Let's all get home in time for Iftar, Ramzan Mubarak,'' the officer told me. ''Just take care.'' In Islam, one of the benefits of Ramadan is how it unifies the faithful regardless of their wealth or social standing.

Over the years, I have ended my day's fast at lavish banquets hosted by royalty and heads of state as well as with simple meals cooked by the office cleaners.

I have broken bread with strangers in the street, shared cups of water with colleagues from rival news organisations and stopped at traffic lights to make sure the on-duty policemen have a hot meal and a drink.

And as the call to Maghrib, or sunset, prayers wafted over the many West Asia cities where I have worked, I have joined the millions of Muslims who lifted their hands in prayer before tucking into a well-earned meal.

Reuters