Life here in Java offers plenty of food for thought.
It's Ramadan right now and most Muslims are fasting, which means no food or water (or cigarettes, sex or getting angry) during daylight hours. After dark this seems to be followed by lots of eating and praying.
Hal and I have been experimenting with fasting for a year or two now. There are various theories kicking around, the most common being the five: two regime - two days a week you refrain from eating, or reduce to 25% or 500 calories. The aim of this eating pattern is to help your body to use food more efficiently, with all sorts of health benefits including greater longevity. There's nothing more powerful you can do for your body according to the experts.
Of course, restricting food intake has long been practiced as a way to cleanse the body and mind and restore balance in a number of cultures, well before modern science came along to sing its praises. But fasting a day here or there is one thing. Every year the world's Muslims collectively forego food for a month.
I admire their staying power.
On quizzing Ibu who works in the kitchen and housekeeping for YabbieKayu, her 'day' goes something like this. At around 2.30am a voice is heard through the streets calling out 'Sahur' which is the last meal for Muslims before pre-dawn prayer and fasting begins. In case you miss it, groups of young boys and other devoted individuals walk around neighborhoods beating on drums and making noise to wake up the faithful (and their neighbours).
It took us a while to work out what this night parade was all about. This is the time Ibu gets up to prepare the pre-dawn food for her family which is then consumed before heading off to the mosque for prayer. Prayers ramp up during Ramadan so in addition to the usual call to prayer around 4am there seems to be longer recitations and chanting.
Then it’s back home for Ibu to do a little housework before arriving for work at 7am. She then prepares breakfast for the guests, including us, shops for food and cleans the bungalows. The usual full day of work only with no lunch or refreshments to sustain energy.
For those of us not fasting it feels polite to avoid eating too publicly. During Ramadan lots of smaller warungs and food places are closed during the day. Of course I forget about it after a a few days in and stupidly offer the gardener some of my dark chocolate. He declines with a polite smile.
Buka puasa or breaking fast happens at sunset around 6pm so people tend to leave work early to head to markets and stalls to grab some snacks. It’s a social time with special foods consumed with friends and family. Our local village has makeshift stalls set up selling nasi uduk (coconut rice) and nasi kucing (literally 'cat's rice') small serves of rice with tiny toppings.
We try a menu of small snacks one evening that includes tasty fried stuffed tofu, sweet jelly fruit drink, and a rice flour porridge with java sugar. I slowly discover that Ramadan isn't about no food altogether but moving eating to different times of the day. Incidentally, this is similar to the time-restricted fasting program also being advocated in the West, where you restrict eating periods to 6 or 8 hour window on certain days but consume the same calories!
Once the fast is broken it’s off to the mosque again for evening Maghrib prayers, before a full meal is served. Further prayers are held in neighbourhood mosques and at gatherings every evening at about 7:30 pm. As we head out on the motorbike we can see large groups from the village in colourful sarongs seated in the courtyard in front of one of the mosques.
After this community gathering everyone returns home and goes to bed by about 9 or 9.30 (unless staying up for the World Cup of course). And then it’s time to get up and do it all over again at 2.30 or 3am. When I remark that it’s a pretty demanding schedule Ibu shrugs with a smile and says 'Its only a month.'
The purpose of all this effort is to remind Muslims what it is like to be hungry and poor, and to teach discipline. In practice it certainly seems to invite spiritual reflection and bring people together for a common purpose.
At home we seem to have forgotten the difference between feast and famine. We no longer eat with the seasons and indulge in myriad foods and imported delicacies available all year round. At special times like Christmas, things usually turn to excess.
Perhaps the fact we no longer savour and appreciate our food as we once did is most reflected in the estimated 30% of food that is wasted worldwide every year. It strikes me that becoming more grateful for what nourishes us is something we all can benefit from, regardless of religion or what part of the planet we live on.
As for the discipline involved, well I can't see the equivalent scene playing out very well in Australian workplaces. I try to imagine my office getting through the whole working day on minimal sleep, no food - and most importantly no coffee - for 30 days straight!
But all seems quite calm here. Perhaps there’s a few more people than usual draped over their desks or lying on the cool tiles for an afternoon nap.
As the fasting month comes to a close and millions of Indonesians travel home to their families for Idul Fitri Hal and I will head off for a five and a half day fast at the Sanctuary in Thailand. This is part of our present to one another for our ten year anniversary. You can check out the review from the Guardian here.
Our program will involve consuming no food whatsoever for just over 5 days, apart from an array of herbal intestinal cleansers and carefully prepared bentonite clay purification ‘shakes’ 4 times a day. There’s also optional colonics and your own private pre-fast consultation and support manual.
I have a little grin at us heading off for our carefully planned (and expensive) health retreat by the beach. We see it as an opportunity to give ourselves a mental and physical clean-up in beautiful surroundings. I’m sure the locals think we are nuts!
Given that we will be surrounded by the delights of Thai cuisine and not eating anything for a good part of the trip, we may well be.
Only time will tell if the experience brings gifts of a deeper kind.
It's Ramadan right now and most Muslims are fasting, which means no food or water (or cigarettes, sex or getting angry) during daylight hours. After dark this seems to be followed by lots of eating and praying.
Hal and I have been experimenting with fasting for a year or two now. There are various theories kicking around, the most common being the five: two regime - two days a week you refrain from eating, or reduce to 25% or 500 calories. The aim of this eating pattern is to help your body to use food more efficiently, with all sorts of health benefits including greater longevity. There's nothing more powerful you can do for your body according to the experts.
Of course, restricting food intake has long been practiced as a way to cleanse the body and mind and restore balance in a number of cultures, well before modern science came along to sing its praises. But fasting a day here or there is one thing. Every year the world's Muslims collectively forego food for a month.
I admire their staying power.
On quizzing Ibu who works in the kitchen and housekeeping for YabbieKayu, her 'day' goes something like this. At around 2.30am a voice is heard through the streets calling out 'Sahur' which is the last meal for Muslims before pre-dawn prayer and fasting begins. In case you miss it, groups of young boys and other devoted individuals walk around neighborhoods beating on drums and making noise to wake up the faithful (and their neighbours).
It took us a while to work out what this night parade was all about. This is the time Ibu gets up to prepare the pre-dawn food for her family which is then consumed before heading off to the mosque for prayer. Prayers ramp up during Ramadan so in addition to the usual call to prayer around 4am there seems to be longer recitations and chanting.
Then it’s back home for Ibu to do a little housework before arriving for work at 7am. She then prepares breakfast for the guests, including us, shops for food and cleans the bungalows. The usual full day of work only with no lunch or refreshments to sustain energy.
For those of us not fasting it feels polite to avoid eating too publicly. During Ramadan lots of smaller warungs and food places are closed during the day. Of course I forget about it after a a few days in and stupidly offer the gardener some of my dark chocolate. He declines with a polite smile.
Buka puasa or breaking fast happens at sunset around 6pm so people tend to leave work early to head to markets and stalls to grab some snacks. It’s a social time with special foods consumed with friends and family. Our local village has makeshift stalls set up selling nasi uduk (coconut rice) and nasi kucing (literally 'cat's rice') small serves of rice with tiny toppings.
We try a menu of small snacks one evening that includes tasty fried stuffed tofu, sweet jelly fruit drink, and a rice flour porridge with java sugar. I slowly discover that Ramadan isn't about no food altogether but moving eating to different times of the day. Incidentally, this is similar to the time-restricted fasting program also being advocated in the West, where you restrict eating periods to 6 or 8 hour window on certain days but consume the same calories!
Once the fast is broken it’s off to the mosque again for evening Maghrib prayers, before a full meal is served. Further prayers are held in neighbourhood mosques and at gatherings every evening at about 7:30 pm. As we head out on the motorbike we can see large groups from the village in colourful sarongs seated in the courtyard in front of one of the mosques.
After this community gathering everyone returns home and goes to bed by about 9 or 9.30 (unless staying up for the World Cup of course). And then it’s time to get up and do it all over again at 2.30 or 3am. When I remark that it’s a pretty demanding schedule Ibu shrugs with a smile and says 'Its only a month.'
The purpose of all this effort is to remind Muslims what it is like to be hungry and poor, and to teach discipline. In practice it certainly seems to invite spiritual reflection and bring people together for a common purpose.
At home we seem to have forgotten the difference between feast and famine. We no longer eat with the seasons and indulge in myriad foods and imported delicacies available all year round. At special times like Christmas, things usually turn to excess.
Perhaps the fact we no longer savour and appreciate our food as we once did is most reflected in the estimated 30% of food that is wasted worldwide every year. It strikes me that becoming more grateful for what nourishes us is something we all can benefit from, regardless of religion or what part of the planet we live on.
As for the discipline involved, well I can't see the equivalent scene playing out very well in Australian workplaces. I try to imagine my office getting through the whole working day on minimal sleep, no food - and most importantly no coffee - for 30 days straight!
But all seems quite calm here. Perhaps there’s a few more people than usual draped over their desks or lying on the cool tiles for an afternoon nap.
As the fasting month comes to a close and millions of Indonesians travel home to their families for Idul Fitri Hal and I will head off for a five and a half day fast at the Sanctuary in Thailand. This is part of our present to one another for our ten year anniversary. You can check out the review from the Guardian here.
Our program will involve consuming no food whatsoever for just over 5 days, apart from an array of herbal intestinal cleansers and carefully prepared bentonite clay purification ‘shakes’ 4 times a day. There’s also optional colonics and your own private pre-fast consultation and support manual.
I have a little grin at us heading off for our carefully planned (and expensive) health retreat by the beach. We see it as an opportunity to give ourselves a mental and physical clean-up in beautiful surroundings. I’m sure the locals think we are nuts!
Given that we will be surrounded by the delights of Thai cuisine and not eating anything for a good part of the trip, we may well be.
Only time will tell if the experience brings gifts of a deeper kind.
No comments:
Post a Comment