Sunday, July 29, 2012

The Fasting Month

So we're a week into Ramadhan, the fasting month, and my teachers are beginning to lose that starving look in their eyes as they readjust to the new eating schedule. I don't have many Muslim teachers in my cluster, unlike my colleague in town, but Ramadhan affects everyone in Malaysia, regardless of religion. Nationally, school time is shortened, and class periods run for 25 minutes instead of 30. Sports and afternoon activities stop entirely. I actually began this job last year on the very first day of Ramadhan; nobody really explained to me what it would be like. I wrote my report on the last day of fasting, and it contains sentences like, "Malaysian schools have no extra-curricular activities in the afternoon," and, "Four of my schools have no on-site canteen." This year, I'm much better prepared!

In my smaller schools in my new placement, the canteens remain open, despite being run by Muslims - my two favourite ladies at SK Narawang, who tease me every week in Dusun and still pretend to be surprised when I don't understand, fed me with coffee and kampung doughnuts on Friday. Usually I am very careful about eating in public - I carry water with me, but it stays out of sight until I'm able to sneak a sip or two round the back of the buildings - but these two insisted that I eat and told me they don't mind. I have a suspicion that it makes them feel better about themselves, as in, "Look at me, the orang putih can stuff her face in front of me, and I still can stick to my fast."

At SK Lohan, though, the majority of students are Muslim, and approximately half the teachers. The canteen doors were firmly shut.


On Monday, the first working day of Ramadhan, I arrived to find my three Project teachers wilting at their desks, the two Christians desperate to eat, the Muslim tired already - she'd been up since breakfast at 3:30am: it was now 1pm, and her teaching day was only just beginning. (SK Lohan is so big that the 3 upper grades attend school in the morning, and the 3 lower grades in the afternoon.) 

Help was at hand though: mid-afternoon, I was told to bring my purse outside. A minivan had drawn up at the school gate; inside, a lady in a headscarf displayed trays and trays of sweets, noodles, cakes, and rice wrapped in banana leaves. I felt a little illicit, like I was queueing up to buy smuggled alcohol or something! The Christian teachers all bought a little something to snack on secretly, while the Muslim teachers bought for later, so that they'd be able to eat something as soon as the sun set.


Three weeks to go!

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