Twenty Twenty!

Confinement is bad enough, now Ramadindong has come too!! That's a lot to take on, I wonder how the challenged in the field of multitasking are doing! Like someone once said to me, how can women be so good at multitasking if they cant have sex and a headache I
At the same time! I know am struggling.

Trying to find ways to occupy myself whilst pretending also to work from home, send a couple of emails a day to show "face" and gossip with colleagues over whose gonna get chopped! Last one in, first one out it seems. Also confinement seems to bring out the worst in people, all my colleagues seem to have transformed into knobheads! Gawd I hate 2020! It's funny because twenty twenty usually means good things, like great vision and such!

What else can I do to occupy my time, I mean no amount of quarantine will make me desperate enough to organise my knicker drawer or any other drawer for that matter, so maybe I'll just eat. Yes as a matter of fact. I shall do just that. 

Eat my way through this...

Out and out

I managed about three days before the red rivers of Lucifer opened up and I had a good excuse as any to take an early breather. Once the 5 customary days (stretched to 6 on the count of one red spot on my knickers) were over I started psyching myself up for the arduous observance of Ramadan but there was no will power to be found, I looked again and rummaged in the abyss of my soul (very deep my soul) to find some willpower but all I found was a tumble weed (insert picture here)! Moving in the desert winds of my soul (insert dramatic music here)! 

Trying to understand the why is the real conundrum, I thought of a few answers; 

• I have been debating my faith for a few years now and I struggled with it as any of my readers would know, I guess you could say it was only a matter of time before the chasm widened and the jig was up. 

• The prevailing atmosphere doesn't help. Islam has such a bad rep nowadays that I thought myself a weakling who got put off by a bunch of faithless terrorists disseminating dogma and terror and calling it the will of God. I am made of sterner stuff that this. So theory dismissed. 

• Being alone during such times as Ramadan can be daunting and discouraging when it's a time to be reunited with loved ones, family and friends. Mayhaps... 

• Safety in numbers: a good theory as any to use when linking your argument to the power of the many, the many who have lapsed, gave in or never had it (faith that is).

The fact of the matter is I don't know if my faith will ever be restored, if I will horribly regret this one day or if it's gone forever and I shall become the Infidel (roll eyes 👀 ) ...what I know is that I am an adult of mostly sound mind who consciously and publicly decided not to observe one of the 5 pillars of Islam and argues simply this feels ok and also it's none of anyone's business.

Today (well when I wrote this) , Eid is upon us and as ever, I am celebrating it with family and my loved ones and I love it. The way I see it? It's not religious it's cultural (preachers, go nuts now)  :D 

A belated Happy and blessed Eid to all 

A summer to remember

Many people don’t have a lot of memories of previous Ramadans, except for the distinct and unhappy recollection of hunger, thirst and the long hours of deprivation.  But nothing else is noteworthy, nothing else seems to happen in this month, especially when you (not me) spend it horizontally for over ten hours a day!

Last year, was a different story, last Ramadan was a memorable one (not in a good way), last Ramadan Israel was repeatedly bombing Gaza, and as the war in Syria raged on, a gunman opened fire on tourists on a beach in Tunisia (the choice of events and countries is not calculated), the whole world went through the summer in a state of shock, anger, protest and gloom.

This year a lesser disaster is looming, but a disaster nonetheless, England will most probably brexit, during Ramadan…bringing a wave of changes to the whole world and I suspect a lasting memory!

As I cast my vote today (guess which way I voted) I couldn’t help but think of all the things trivial and important that will happen, all the changes, I think of how bored Nigel Farage would be, how it’ll transpire that Boris Johnson is actually Donald Trump’s long lost sibling, probably a brother from another mother, I think about how rude the French are going to be to us when we go on holiday to France (by us I mean Brits not Algerians – they already surpassed their tolerance towards us Algerians), croissants and baguettes will be sold on the black market, Cheese smugglers will rival human smugglers and so many more...I can't bear to think about it!

But I strain to think of how this will affect Algerians and I find nothing! Nothing affects Algerians really, we will survive whatever tidal wave this Brexit will bring on, for now it’s none of our concern though, our imminent concern is the source of the next chorba* and bourek* and where we’ll spend the summer drinking and lazing in the sun after all this observance! Spain or Cuba? whichever doesn't require a visa ...

For now though, up to day 5 and on a more egocentric level...

Energy levels – stable, Sleeping patterns: all over the place, Food ingested: not enough, Water drunk: too much, Days to next period: too many

Dz-chick….for now it’s about breakfast not Brexit

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*Ramadan meal

Ramadindong D3

Might resume my Ramadan diaries, mostly because time slows down a lot when you’re not eating.

I understand now why they feed us so much on long haul flights, what else are you going to do!

Ramadan in the office is business as usual; incessant yawning and looking at the clock, always accompanied by the ever annoying question “what, not even water?” of course we covered all of these questions in the many Ramadan posts from previous years so I am not going to get into this again but my answer tends to be the same “nope, just air”.

Of course when you’re observing Ramadan, you get extra horny, extra bad thoughts and you can’t even blame it on the devil because presumably he’s kept at bay during this holy month. So you live with the fact you might be a pervert, who gets pervier when hungry. Almost like Hunger and Thirst weren't enough..

Anywho, if I have the inspiration, I will write something actually meaningful tomorrow

Dz-Chick ...so far, not digging it

Let’s talk ...Period!

Day 19 of Ramadan, Day 5 of period

Yes my period, you know that time of the month when women bleed from their vaginas and sometimes have red spots in the back of their skirts (not me)…of course these are not the only symptoms or consequences of this monthly torment but that was already covered, remember?

I find myself increasingly eager to talk about my period to anyone willing to listen or not, something so overwhelmingly natural, half the earth's population endures from the ages of 12 (sometimes even 9) and reluctantly until menopause yet we are not supposed to discuss it openly and without shame and men refuse to acknowledge it unless it brings relief, because the wife or girlfriend is not pregnant or bad news because it means no sex (unless he's into that sort of thing) because the flow came to town (I love this expression haha)!

I like to talk about my period, I just blurt it out nonchalantly like discussing the weather, I say things like I am in pain, I have my period, I am a woman, can I have a box of tampons please?, What’s your strongest period pain drugs?, I am due any minute now I can feel it, I think we’re synched now, I say things like “urgh get over yourself, it’s just a period, we all know it happens”.

Men get squeamish and twitchy and pull faces like you just said Bogie sandwich, some women get a bit timid, most get horrified with shame, others only discuss it in whispers and euphemisms, whilst others just laugh and add on a layer of much needed girly complicity, I personally just like to put in on the table! Yes I HAVE MY PERIOD, I BLEED FROM MY VAGINA and I have several hormones playing havoc with my body! The sooner you deal with it, the sooner you’ll grow up.

And no I am not one of those vulgar girls who likes to talk biology and anatomy in unscientific words, I am not a rebel, I am not a “feminist”, I am just a woman who recognises that a period is something very very natural she’ll experience about a thousand times in her life and would like the world to stop behaving like it’s witchcraft and get “au fait” about it, would like for people to stop behaving like bleeding women are the devil and that menstrual blood is bad, and stop thinking that vaginas are evil, because they don’t seem to mind them when they’re not bleeding.

And now it’s Ramadan, so really I am not supposed to talk about Vaginas or women in general because a woman is really just a vagina.  I am certainly not supposed to eat in public when menstruating because it’ll mean that I have my period and that is shameful; to whom exactly it’s still unclear to me! I certainly don’t want people to start having mental pictures of what’s going on in my knickers but I will not hide my period, or the pain it causes me or that my reproductive system is functional, because really, that’s all it means, if anything it should be welcomed news!

I do not need to be brave, courageous or have a big mouth to discuss my period, my moon cup or which tablets work the best, it’s a natural biological process of the female body, I am proud of my body, when it runs a mile, when it lifts 80Kg, when it withstands 9 months of pregnancy, when it fasts 19 days in a row or when it bleeds for 5 days!

Dz-Chick…You’re Welcome.

A carefree life

There’s a strange feeling around, like the silence before the storm or perhaps the silence when you’re in the eye of the storm, you can feel the general uneasiness of the conscious people, those who know the world is broken.

I have to keep going, have to keep fasting, keep working, keep living deafened by the ticking of my biological clock and the shootings of innocents, I continue planning my future holidays steering clear of certain areas of the world where as a woman I am not really tolerated and realise soon there’ll be nowhere safe, I continue planning my life as if there were no Wars, no double standards or apartheid occupation in the 21^st century and have to keep smiling and be happy.

Feels like a full time job trying to keep as a normal life as possible, to feel the need to adjust certain aspects of your life so that your own friends can see you as the same person you always were and not this Muslim potential explosive person who they look at with bewilderment and suspicion.

Sick of this topic, so let’s just change the tune!

Day 13 of Ramadan today, only another 16 to go! Piece of cake!! I’ll just spend my time reading the news through the main source: Facebook, read irritating comments and dumb opinions that offer nothing but agreement with the first opinion for lack of a better one like “No comment” and “totally agree” and “you said it all” and “ha ha ha”.  

Watch funny videos posted every 3 seconds on various topics, failed hidden Cameras and Muslims trying too hard to show the good side of Islam by overdoing charity and trying tirelessly to mend their tarnished image!

I stalk some old friends on facebook; I find therapeutic the routine they give me, I wait for their 5 daily selfies, posted generally in the changing room of a Luxury shop, at a restaurant, in a bikini at the beach, in the car carefully positioned to show off the horse-logo and of course in bed because they wake-up looking impossibly fresh and gorgeous.  They look good; they’re rich and have more money tide-up in promiscuity futures, they lead extravagant lives full of luxuries, careless fun and beauty, free of Don’ts and Harams (sins)!  They make me loathe my self-destructive thoughts, religious-guilt and deep existential questioning; I am jealous of how careless they seem so I find it easier to question what they would be like if they looked on the outside as they did on the inside. Jealous much!?

Online shopping also proved a good time-killer; I don’t always press on the Purchase button but I do so enjoy to collect items in the basket and drool over them before my anti-consumerist broke self takes over, I shake off the shopping urge and resume actual work which I hate passionately and carefully.

Of course blogging and whining also helps!

 

Dz-Chick…pressed on purchase eventually!  

Day 8: Practically half way..innit?

Today is day 8, and like every morning I had to fight the urge to go and buy a large coffee and a chocolate twist! I don’t even eat chocolate twists in normal days (non-Ramadan time), it’s fascinating the things you do during Ramadan that you don’t do in regular times…

Like fast, pray? , stop drinking, stop , sleep at normal godly hours, and quit masturbating? , trying not to think about sex,  don’t tell anyone to f*ck off when they really out to, be tired and have bags under your eyes without your boss blaming it on Ramadan and generally just behaving like yourself, without the guilt and forgetting the hunger, thirst and general depravation! Another thing you do in Ramadan times is attempt to cook; actually concoct a recipe not just bang a salmon fillet in the oven!

I generally call my mum at the beginning of the month to enquire about recipes, the same she gave me last year but it’s nice to hear them again from her, I have them written in a notebook entitled fondly “Les Recettes de Mama” but I still ask her every year, it’s like a ritual to call my mum and ask for her help when I am sure I can probably (NOT) work it out myself. Then I attempt to cook it, take a picture of it (if it looks good) and send it her to make her proud, although admittedly the last time I attempted to make Galette bread (which is a round flat bread) it came out triangular.

There are a few Algerian restaurants in London! Just ask google

 

Dz-Chick....ceinture bleu!

Taking no prisoners!

It’s starting to grind, the number of Muslims who think they’re God’s answer...well to everything…

Every Muslim nation thinks Islam emanated from its bosom, the Arabs by right of birth as they seemingly and sanctimoniously hold the ultimate right to Islam, in fact if you look close, they all bare the sign somewhere on their scalp or their nether regions; they are the chosen ones! The Asians and African and the rest of the Muslim nations don’t really count, I mean they can’t even speak the lingo!! Each nation practicing a different Islam to another and calling it the Prophet’s way, throwing in some backward customs, some charlatan hokey pokey nonsense and a bit of spice and call it Religion! Enough already!

I am sick of these pseudo-Muslims, who brandish their religion so proudly yet so wrongly it does nothing but push people away and alienate Muslims and non-Muslims alike.

Enough with the over-zealous bogus piousness, enough with the hypocrisy and the deluded sense of self-greatness, enough with the backwardness, enough with the “I am Muslim, therefore I am perfect” bullshit, enough of fasting all day and eating for a small country all night, enough with the fake social media charity, enough with the antagonisation of other faiths groups, enough of turning people against us and leaving it to others to answer for your mistakes, enough of playing the religion card on every occasion, enough of playing victims when you’re fasting and making the whole world uncomfortable just because you can’t stand to see someone else enjoying a coffee or a pizza! What are you 4? Enough of your shit already! We get it you’re Muslim and a shit one at that.

Keep it to yourself; you’ll do us all a great favour.

Dz-Chick…6 days in!

Practice makes near-perfect!

Perseverance makes good, makes perfect. I decided to continue fasting, sticking to an as-per-normal lifestyle, work, gym, out with friends, park, shopping, drooling over stuff and dinners amongst friends when the sun decides to piss off!

I rationalised it as a challenge, if not by faith in something out there than by faith in me and my abilities to complete what I started and maybe my faith in God will come back as they say practice makes perfect.

Around the office, only my French colleagues seem to be aware of Ramadan, it made first page on Le Monde, big news in France! it’s the time of year they can hope to catch Muslims slip up or lose it or something and point out really how different/weird/crazy/uncivilised they are.  In the office they come to ask questions, of the annoying kind like “Alors, tu as faim?”.  I feel like I have to prove something to them, like I am unphased by my strong desire to march into the kitchen and ingest a café late fresh off the machine, unphased by the interminable hours I have to fast and yet remain chirpy and alert just to prove them wrong and prove to myself that I am strong. In the end it’s more exhausting to act for their benefit and put on this smiley nonchalant face than to actually fast. Hmmm I see a negotiation plan is born here…

My English colleagues on the other hand, are still offering me cups of teas, totally oblivious to Ramadindong and frankly it’s refreshing, I’d rather take the cup of tea and smile than go through the usual explanation and the awkwardness of it all, of people not knowing how to react and the follow-up questions like my favourite “what not even water?” . Yep, just air and good will...

...And London weather permitting, a beautiful promissing SunSet...Ahh Ramadan Porn!

Dz-Chick…5 days in!

Slowly...but surely?

Everybody seems to be concerned about Ramadan, more so than me, my boss who is a royal bitch has a massive issue with Islam and isn’t afraid to say it, he keeps calling me into his office for lectures on how Islam has a problem with modernity, how none or very little Muslims ever won Nobel Prizes…he says a bunch of other awful things too but it’s harder to repeat and be funny!  

So my Boss is Uber gay, so naturally he thinks the whole Muslim world wants to stone him to death, I am also pretty sure he’s subscribed to some fascist website of sort that keeps him updated on all matters “Islam” , because he always has all the scoops on anything even remotely related to it, the decline of the Muslim world or Muslims causing trouble and he doesn’t shut up about it, he comes out gloating, pointing and laughing, making jokes, some people laugh awkwardly whilst gaging my reaction, others just laugh and shake their heads at the same time, thereby condoning and  reprimanding which really cancel each other out, so nobody says anything and it really doesn’t matter because he’s actually really funny …but also because he’s gay and one must be careful apparently not to offend minority groups …ah the irony!

Dz-Chick...Love thy gay neighour!

Losing my religion!

This year like the last few years, I find myself questioning my faith; questioning my motives, questioning the whole thing! Why do I have to starve and deprive myself, why do I have to only be with someone of the same faith or be sad and lonely forever and ever, why can’t I enjoy a glass of wine from time to time (don’t worry I do), why so many Dos and Don’ts? Why so many sacrifices, why is it so difficult and complicated to be a Muslim.

A lot of the times I have to have a talk with myself in order to regain perspective and decide it was important and that I stick to it for reasons that I tell myself I understand and accept. If Islam is the religion of submission, I want to submit and cease all questioning and probing but I can’t, is it because I am getting older and all this religiosity is taking its toll on my body or is it because of the prevailing discouraging anti-Islam and extremist era we’re living in?

Am I a Muslim because I was born into a Muslim family? Or I was truly born a Muslim like everyone else is believed to be? Am I a Muslim because it’s easier to comply and submit than to face the threats of hellfire and the family disownment or I am simply too cowardly to want to truly know so it’s easier to just keep my faith or semblant of just to avoid hellfire, just in case it exists!

But I persevere, I fast, it’s Ramadan day one and I am going through the motions, hoping it’s out of faith and not out of tradition, total guilt and contriteness, every year I hope to revive my connection to someone bigger than me who will tell me everything will be ok.

The thing is I understand why we are here on earth; I just can’t accept that that’s the only reason.

Dz-chick....hoping to regain it by mid-month 

Silence of the World

 

Every year, on every day of Eid el Fitr (le ptit Eid), feelings of joy, of achievement and happiness fill the air and the souls, as you walk around London, the sight of colourful dresses and happy faces bring a smile to your face (well mine anyway), so many faithful of so many colours, cultures and countries fill the streets of London, visit relatives, mosques and generally just seem to float about parading their joy and enjoying this big reward that is Eid, the day you get to finally eat in daylight! Oh you black elixir, come hither…

Spending Eid at work isn’t the best way I could think of enjoying this special day, but one has not much choice sometimes and one has to do with what one is given. After so many years away from home, you learn to build yourself a second family with whom you can share special moments and feel the love (special thought for a couple of friends who have become our foster parents) with people who understand how important this day is. After a month of hard core Ramadan observance, Eid is supposed to be your reward, a day that always fills you with joy and a high sense of achievement and you wish people understood that, when I say people I mean people who don’t know much about Ramadan, your non-Muslim friends or maybe it’s more a case of your non-cultured friends.

A simple “Happy Eid” will make me feel special, I always explain to my friends that it’s as close to Xmas for us as it gets yet it remain alien to them. Bah! Who needs your “Happy Eid” anyway!

But this year, it’s a different story all together; I am not delving into the joy or Eid, not because of the measly bowl of porridge I had for breakfast or the poor quality coffee brewed by the office vending machine, for this big breakfast day, but it’s more to do with the deterioration of humanity, the suffering and the plight of the Palestinian and Syrian people at this very moment, killings of innocent all over Africa, Afghanistan, Iraq, Yemen, who are certainly not enjoying it for different reasons. Not because they had a bad quality coffee (it was truly shit) from a vending machine which I suspect to be from the first world war, but because some of them don’t have anything to eat, nowhere to live, children are laying down in a hospital bed being treated for war wounds and limb severance instead of scratches and booboos from the swings and slides, others are mourning their amounting numbers of dead whilst most of them are dispossessed, starving, homeless and fighting a powerful occupation backed by: The silence of the world.
 

So with the foul tasting coffee, the heavy heart and few and far in between “Happy Eid” Wishes, one must learn to be grateful and practice empathy albeit with an after taste of badly ground beans.

Dz-chick…in mourning for humanity

Day 4: Nostalgia is a woman!

Was browsing through facebook...stalking really, what else is there to do on a Saturday in Ramadan! what did I do before? I can't remember!

I stumbled upon a friend's Nostalgic comment, and reading the replies from her male friends left me puzzeled, they cited "Tagine at the kiosk at la Grande Poste", "Sandwich Garantita a 2am by les 3 horloges in Bab el oued", "Sardines beddersa a Telemly" and many more little rituals and habits, that I don't recognise, I don't know of, it's different to telling the stories of what goes on at the ladies local hair salon and compare and laugh with its counterpart the Gents barber, but this is Nostalgia, although the souvenirs could be personal to each of us, the general landscape of it should be shared, agreed on, like sunny blue skies and white buildings, days at the beach, Lemon sorbet (kreponi if that's how it's spelt) and friendly albeit curious people, it shouldn't be gender specific.

Wondered why it is that girls and boys in Algeria hold different souvenirs of home, like we didn't live the same lives (yes same - socialism remember!), as if we didn't go to the same schools and beaches and went through the same war, or maybe our souvenirs are similar but not the same;
Then it hit me, girls and boys do live the same events, it's just the view or perhaps more appropriately, the viewing platform is what differs, boys whiteness it from the street, up and close whilst the girls view it perched up on the balconies and windows! sequestrated behind shutters, "sheltered" behind doors and veils.

A friend of mine in Algeria, used and still gets revolted by the fact she couldn't leave the house after a certain time of the evening, if she craved a Coke, she'll have no way of getting it, she'll have to lump it and swallow it, but she remarked that had her brother craved a Coke, he'd up and go an any time and get himself one! Who said girls can't go out after dark? who started this unwritten LAW! This very same law that makes my nostalgia diffident from my brothers'.

To be continued....I am hungry now!

Dz-chick...Ramadan and nostalgia don't mix well!*

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*but I am fine, honest, I am fiiiiine

Day 2: Yes yes it's RamadaM, get over it!

Ramadan is ahead full steam, I am not, I am more like an old locomotive running out of coal but who keeps going on pure motion power.

My only problem with fasting is the non-stop yawning at my desk; I could sleep at any time.  I could actually close my eyes at my desk and fall asleep. The smell of coffee literally hurts me, anything else I don’t mind.

At work, you don’t talk about it; you don’t complain (we all do) openly about it, you’ll yawn openly and noisily though.

You don’t mention it’s Ramadan or that you’re fasting, you strive to keep it private, not let it be used against you in a situation where you’d hear the usual “you’re not focused”, or “you don’t have any energy”, or “bound to happen, you’re not eating” even on the smallest most common mistakes, you want to prove that fasting really doesn’t  affect your mental or physical abilities, that it doesn’t to a certain extent or time of day where your face has turned green and you could paper-cut with your tongue, that you are in fact Robocop.

A few comments that come back a lot like a bad smell, to count a few:  “not even water?”, “so, did you stuff your face last night?” and again “you can’t even drink water?”, “so only air then? And my favourite “oh jesus, is it RamdaM again?”

People seem to be concerned, about something, about you, about the job perhaps, or about witnessing a fast, some feel uncomfortable, others prefer not to know, either way, you are different and they don’t understand why you would willingly inflict that on yourself.

It plays as your cue to wake up, prove them wrong, be energetic and a little hypocritical.

Isn’t Ramadan hard enough as it is, without having a bunch of ignoramuses coming back with the same questions over and over again, you’re always reassuring them that the answers are the same from last year and no you are not moody because you aren’t eating, you’re moody because they’re being stupid. The end.

Dz-chick…no assumption, no consumption!*

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*lame I know!

Bring on the Kelbelouz!!

To commemorate the beginning of my 20^thRamadan, I wanted to make a special “tribute” to everyone…

….Everyone, who starts Ramadan with a little bit of Alcohol in their system, those who replace alcohol with hashish, those who squat the mosques in their best robes trying to erase the year’s earthly decay, those who start praying and stop by the third day, or the 29^th! Those who steal to pay for the holy month’s food requirement, those who behave like baboons because they’re going extinct, those who will travel away for 30 days so they don’t have to eat in hiding, those who will spend their alms at the Halal casino, those who judge, watch and scrutinise their neighbour to make sure they’re not suffering alone, those who will eat sushi instead of Chorba because it’s healthy, those who do it out of convention, and those who eat in hiding, those who fast in hiding to avoid judgment at work, those who don't want to explain why they froze their gym membership, those who will crack open the presecco the day of Eid, those who dedicate themselves to it religiously (no pun intended) and finally those who just don’t care.

Ramadan Kareem to all

Dz-Chick...cynical? Never!!!

Oops I ate it again!

 

Inspired by recent and ridiculous events…I thought it was time for a refresher on religious studies, my last religious education lesson was back when my nipples were still inverted and I didn’t have to fast, but my memory is a bit fuzzy now, when I drill into it, I keep getting flashing images of “2 Unlimited” NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO THERE’S NO LIMIT ….curious!

In my re-findings, the 5ive pillars of Islam are listed in a particular order, I was most interested in the observance of Ramadan and prayers and how they link the person observing them to God, how it is a personal responsibility and relationship between God and his subject and them alone.

But in certain “democratic” republics, fasting seems to have become a public affair and a responsibly of the state;

Public consumption during Ramadan is considered a crime, an offence punishable by law, here I am, thinking it was a sin, apparently it’s both since you get arrested and taken to court on charges of eating in public. This is terrible; think of how many people are hurt with every bite, the blood shed!!

Women might have it easier, if apprehended for public consumption, you will be asked for your “papers” so to save time, pull out a tampon with your identity card to be on the safe side or your diabetes card or your antibiotics or whatever protection you need from humans, because it offends them more than it does God evidently.

Praying on the other hand, which holds the same if not a higher rank than the observance of Ramadan seems to matter less to people, nobody prosecutes you (in between meals) or judges you for not praying, it is considered a personal choice and is usually left alone. Because??

It might be that we’re over thinking it and it’s simply a case of the old “if I have to do it…everybody else does too” or is it considered cheating just like doping in the Olympics? Maybe they think it’s a national duty? Who knows what they teach them nowadays!

In other countries, fasting is considered archaic and ignorant, some fast in secret, some flaunt it like an Olympian flaunts his medal, whilst others eat without being prosecuted and some might even gain respect for the perseverance and strong will.

Some fast out of fear of what people would say, others fast to loose weight, and others fast despite their dubiousness because it’s easier to fast than to stand up and object especially when you don’t have the arguments.

Some cling on to every scientific proof showing the positive effects of fasting, mostly to convince themselves they’re starving for the right reasons. The link to a certain BBC program is passed around like a faith touchstone and a sort of “I told you so” to the non fasting friends.  But there are the few who do it out of sheer faith and never mind the judgment.

The Non-fasters hunt is now open;

The streets are policed and whistleblowing is endemic;

Quick call 999 I saw someone drinking water!

Ridiculous you say?

One word: where I come from they call it Kwada*

As a concerned citizen, I’d like to know is it an Islamic republic or a democratic one? Charia or Not charia? Your business or my business? And where is Boutefilika? Do you think HE fasts? What do you think the self-righteous, toothless creep who alerted the “authorities” on the drinking criminals was doing at the time? £100 he was either wanking or steeling.

What about non-Muslim citizens? Do they also have to observe the fast? Or simply not eat in public? Who is making the laws here? A hungry judge who missed his S’hour(1)? And what of freewill, human rights? And Periods?

I find it utterly unbelievable that the majority’s beliefs are forced upon the population as whole and unconformity and differences are punishable by laws that are uncertain, unfounded and irrelevant especially to the minority who could be Jews, Christian or simply choose not to do it.

Apparently 2 Unlimited had it all wrong! Or have they?

Massayminch (2) – That’s how they roll

Dz-chick… does not much care for snitches and the self-righteous!

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(1) Meal before sunrise and resuming fast

(2) not fasting

* Ooops I did it again

Algerian Ramadan seen from space

Pre-Ramadan rush; is a bit like when they announce a meteorite is set to collide with the Earth and provisions must be made, shelves are emptied, car parks heaving, beaches overpopulated, everybody is going for the last swim before showing giblets becomes haram(1) and the burkinis go back in the wardrobe. I did a count and I found that the burkini is overtaking the jebba(2) three to one. Fascinating!

The town is on Zlabia(3) overdrive; all shops turn to Zlabia parlours! The newspapers have found a hot topic for the month, Zlabiation of all business and prices going up by 100%. Ramadan business opportunism at it’s best.

Rush hour changes from 4pm to midday. Those who were getting paid for sitting in the office talking on the phone and discussing the latest recipes will now be paid for doing the same from home. It’s even legitimate for the month and you know bad habits die hard, so some will try to milk it into Shawal(4).

The offices empty of their workfoce, they are all out there buying food or stuck in traffic on their way to the newest supermarket, presumably to devour more shelves and stock up their freezers before the prices go up!

With all the people in their cars lining up the roads, who’s running the country?

The fast starts, some escape to Europe for a month, some eat in the cupboards, some judge, others point fingers and mumble prayers under their breaths whilst others rejoice and mind their own business.

It’s a weird feeling, time seems to slow down, people seem to remain cheery, though admittedly it’s still early days, must be the effect of sugar residue. Let’s give it a week.

It talks of food and evening plans at the Pool with Dj Iamtoocoolnot and evenings at khaima(5), no not for Taraweeh(6) it’s for sipping tea and smoking chicha, yes this long tradition we have.

The build-up to iftar is intense; a race against the clock, even though time is all we have with over 17 hours of fasting time, talk of food and of recipes from the Middle East and others seen on Nessma TV. For those of us who don’t have to cook, the local DVD shop has almost every pirated movie ever made and some that weren’t. meanwhile the Chorba(6) is cooking and the tension is building, building and building…a fist fight here, an accident there, the bread is sold-out and the butcher has ran out organs! Then comes the Adhan(7) and it’s like the pressure cooker has been released, the end of the war. Ahhhhhhh

Gluttony makes that you’ve most probably over-indulged and are holding your stomach in pain, so you watch TV to distract yourself from the agonising pain in your gut.
Post-iftar TV is where comedy goes to die, soul destroying recycled comedy for the insane and recently lobotomised but totally realistic, only adds to your anguish but you can't put your finger on it, trust me it's the TV.

Then comes S’hour(8), the only thing that has the power to separate a man from his bed.
Ah the love story between the Algerian and his food is everlasting; you can hear your neighbours running around chasing time again, engorging on more food before the fasting resumes and the continued wishes of saha this and saha that start and end never.

The magic of Ramadan measures only to its long days, to kilos gained, to food ingested and footnotes(so many) and countdowns.


Dz-chick...back in London where we work longer than we fast!

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(1) Sinful
(2) Long house dress
(3) Ramadan special, extra painfully sweet confection
(4) The month after Ramadan in the Islamic Calendar
(5) Bedouin tent
(5) Ramadan prayers
(6) Tomato based soup
(7) Call to prayer
(8) Time to start fasting at dawn, a lot of people wake up to take a dose of their favourite toxin, coffee, cigarette, food etc…

Oh Crescent....where art thou!

On this last day of Ramadan, I am blogging from my bed, to change from my desk which resulted in my boss discovering the blog, reading it and promptly blocking it! that'll teach me

So I am in bed, horizontal and relaxed albeit a little uninspired.

I am not sure how you're spending the last few hours of Ramadan but I know ALL are hoping to hear the good news that Eid is tomorrow, so that crescent better show it's face!

Third Eid in a row I am going to spend in the office and I am not very happy about it, I should be at home with my family eating Baklawa and hiding in my room when neighbours come to wish us Eid Moubarak, I say they come but in truth they race you to it in an attempt at collecting the hasanat the good deeds first, so they all come at once and invade your space whilst all you want to do is enjoy a coffee with cake quietly with the family. There is plenty of time in the day to go around to see people and wish them a MARVELLOUS Eid Moubark, just let me have my morning first.

Oh well at least I won't have to deal with this in the office tomorrow.

Let's just hope it's Eid, 'cos this chick can't take it anymore.

Eid Moubarak to all

Ramadan ....over and out T-3

The end is near and despite what other people say about missing Ramadan, well I am sorry to say LIARS, it’s a month of hard work and hard worship and concentration, of deprivation and self sacrifice, none of which come naturally to normal human beings, and if it was that easy and you could do it all year around why all the whinging, the bad moods and clock watching?

If the crescent is sighted over the weekend, more precisely on Monday night then Tuesday is Eid, otherwise we have to fast Tuesday as well and I am planning a major headache aka a sicky!

Just as well we’ve come to the end, I have ran out of things to say this month, a post a day is just not sustainable unless I write a journal (not gonna happen), this long weekend shall reset my batteries and will come back with a kick!

Saha ftourkou, eidkoum and have a lovely bank holiday weekend

Novemgust‏

Looking out of the office window or what we can see thought the boss’s office glass door to his window wall, because we’re not allowed window seats, window seats are for the important people or the ones who kiss their as*es, I see November

I also see a bus, no 101 from what I can make out and I wish I was on it, riding away from here until the last stop, I don’t know why I didn’t look up skyward and wished I was aboard a Boeing 747 flying home or somewhere equally warm, perhaps because I knew with a November sky in August you’d be lucky to see the light let alone an airplane.

24^th Day of Ramadan, I speak to my mum who claims she is sad Ramadan is almost over and that she’ll miss it and to remedy that, she’s going to fast 6 more days straight after Eid, my dad doesn’t agree and will not fast a minute beyond what is required because he is not a hypocrite apparently referring to my mum who I can hear in the background telling him to behave.

I am barely fasting properly, constantly fighting urges and thoughts of things not allowed like boys and things!    Every time I have one of these “devilish” thoughts I remember what I was told as a kid about the devil being held prisoner away from earth and humans during the month of Ramadan and cannot whisper in my ear and make me do naughty things, so I can’t blame anything on him...is that right? I want it in writing I say!

Going back to Novemgust which is really what this month should be called, it’s depressing and I need some sunshine, I also need coffee and a bout £100,000 (not very greedy) and a man, yes a boyfriend.

Only 6 more days….be brave now!