A month ago on a Sunday evening I was walking along Sonnenallee with a friend when we were met by a pavement-wide smiling and laughing throng of girls and women in their finest hijabs, one of whom held up a tray full of sweets to me, and me in my ever-so-not-slow-at-all-ness — I could see my brain ticking over into a thought even — went, “O!” and managed a “Ramadan mubarek” while taking one (I’ve told this before). And feeling a little seen by the universe, ’cos that evening I wasn’t really planning on the coming month. And here we are, at the other end.
I rode home yesterday evening after hanging out with Isabelle and got caught in that impressive, drenching storm pushing the cool change across Berlin, like swimming, so much water, like wudu; it kinda felt fitting for the end of the month, even though I still expected another day. And around midnight, I read the new moon had been sighted and played the game of “Are we all doing it on the same day, then?” (no, we’re not, but Germany and Turkey are). So, Eid Mubarek and Ramazan Bayramınız mübarek olsun and schönes Zuckerfest especially to my trans and non-binary and queer and bi sisters and siblings. And to my babaanne, who I never knew but I know we’re connected. And to that girl who gave me that sweet.
I was walking in dusk along Sonnenallee, with someone passing through Berlin, much of the street quieter than usual, partly a Sunday evening, partly anticipation. A massive group of girls and women fill the footpath coming towards us, like a school outing, but the wrong day. Bright, colourful clothes and hijabs, all smiles, and one of the girls holds a basket up to us, full of sweets. I know what the day is, and it still takes me a moment to put things together. Oh yeah, “Ramadan Mubarak,” I say, and take a sweet. And they’re all saying it.
Here we are again, again, again. Every year, the same. Every year, “Just do the first day, do it for your babaanne,” and “Just do it as best you can, even if that’s bid‘ah.” Every year, those same conversations with myself, and new ones, like, “But there’s so much going on right now for me, and so much coming up …” But just this one day, eh? For all the reasons why.
My flatmate is the best flatmate. (Was fully delicious. I scoffed it in bed while hooning the Regenbogen Autobahn. And followed it with a block of chocolate. Also was the full moon. Oh! And taken with my new, sci-fi iPhone SE. First images even.)