Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
The Ramadan Rush
Oh great, just what we needed: another Christmas.
Snarled traffic. Interminable lines in the stores. Frayed tempers everywhere you turn.
Yes folks, it's Ramadan.
My neighborhood is diverse. Just to give you an idea: the woman on the corner is a labrys-wielding Goddess militant (her description). The Latino family next to her are Catholic. Next to them, Hindus upstairs and a secular Jew downstairs. Then there's us, Witch Central. Penny next door is some sort of Baptist. The Somali family next to her are Sunni.
And that's just the first six houses.
Like a surprisingly large amount of Muslim religious practice, the Ramadan fast is an old pagan custom; it used to be the moon during which the summer solstice fell. Muhammad is said to have chosen a fully lunar calendar over a lunar-solar one specifically so that the Muslim calendar would careen around through the year, thus avoiding the accumulation of those inevitable (and inevitably pagan) seasonal customs, like the Christian calendar did. Say what you will about Muhammad, you can't say he wasn't savvy.
A fast every day, a party every night. Welcome to Ramadan.
As if the Christmas rush weren't bad enough. The fact that people are fasting and irritable only adds to the fun. For the duration, the neighborhood liquor store becomes a rare oasis of public tranquility. Who ever would have believed it?
Oh well, our time will come.
113 shopping days till Samhain.
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