(Translation: Ramadan is Generous)
More than one billion Muslims around the world are exchanging this salute these days.
September 1st, 2008 marked the beginning of Ramadan, the ninth month of the Islamic Calendar, the most blessed month of the year. Ramadan is believed to be the month in which the Qur’an was revealed to Angel Gabriel and then later on to Prophet Muhammad. It is a month in which Muslims fast from sunrise (fajer) to sunset (maghrib). This means they cannot drink, eat, cuss, lie, smoke, or perform sexual activities. Muslims seek a raised level of closeness to God Almighty by fasting. The act of fasting is said to redirect the heart away from worldly activities, its purpose being to cleanse the inner soul and free it from harm. It also allows Muslims to practice self-discipline, sacrifice, and sympathy for those who are less fortunate.
The Islamic calendar is a lunar calendar and has approximately eleven days less than the solar calendar; thus, Ramadan comes at a different date every year, usually ten days before. For example, in 2007 Ramadan began the 13th of September. Every year Ramadan is closer and closer to the summer season, where days and fasting hours are longer.
Living Ramadan in an Arabic country is a very special and unique experience. The country transforms in such a way that you can breathe the essence of Ramadan in the air. In Syria, the canons fire twice a day in order to mark the beginning and end of fasting. Work hours are shortened so that the families can be home earlier in order to prepare themselves for the break of the fast (iftar) at sunset which includes prayer and a meal deserving of a king. Restaurants open only for iftar and close at the sight of the first rays of light when fasting begins once again. People, along with stores, are in the street and awake till dawn. Mini Luna-Parks are set up all over the country. There are special foods served during this period including dates, fried bread covered in date paste, dried figs, and almonds. Lanterns and small yellow lights are hung in the streets. It is a time to spend with family and friends; a time to share.
A typical day during Ramadan begins very early with waking up before sunrise to have a cup of water, a bit to eat, and performing the morning prayer. The day continues as any other day of the year except there is the struggle of refraining from drinking or eating; it is continuous self-discipline. At sunset, fast is broken with a grand meal including rice, meat, vegetables, dips, and infinite Arabic deserts. This is followed by visiting or being visited by family and friends, shopping, and rest. At night, people gather at the mosques to hear the recital of the Qur’an as during Ramadan the Qur’an must be read in its entirety. This is followed by the Suhur meal which begins around 11 pm and can last until dawn. On one of the last ten days of Ramadan, Laylat al-Qadr (Night of Decree) is proclaimed; it is the anniversary of the night Muslims believe the first verses of the Qur’an were revealed to Prophet Muhammad by the angel Gabriel and it is also the anniversary of the night in which the Qur’an is believed by Muslims to have been revealed in its entirety. Muslims gather at the mosque and pray all night as it is believed that Allah (God) will grant any desire wished for during this night. The last days of Ramadan are characterized by stores open 24/7, traffic all day and night, excitement. Ramadan comes to an end at the end of the month with Eid al-Fitr (festival of breaking the fast) which consists of donating money and food to the poor (Zakat), resting, and feasts.
For a non-Mulsim, it is very interesting to follow and be part of these traditions that date back centuries. Respect is obviously the rule of the day; as a non-Muslim it would be discourteous to be in the street and start drinking water in the middle of a scorching summer day. During iftar, driving around the streets is eerie, not a human in sight, as if everyone had fled. Ramadan is a special month but at the same time very difficult; each day is a fight against temptation. The struggle of fasting, the desire to be closer to a greater being, the faith, the uniting of millions across the world, it personally reminds me of Christmas when for one moment you feel the world is at peace, too busy celebrating to fight.
In Italy there are one million Muslims; many more than I had imagined. They too fast during the month of Ramadan. It must be all the harder to do so in a non-Muslim country where the majority do not fast and temptations are swirling around you. Imagine walking in the heat running errands, you’re thirsty, your mouth and throat get parched, finally a store with cold water, the liberation, the trickling of water down your throat into the rest of your body. Imagine not being able to do that for hours, till sunset! This month when you see a veiled woman, an Arabic man/woman, instead of the first thought being “terrorist, immigrant, osama bin laden,” think a moment longer and admire him/her for their endurance. Today we are surrounded by different languages, different nationalities, different religions, beliefs, traditions, difference being the key word. The only way we can co-exist is to learn about these differences and more importantly to respect them instead of trying to decide who is superior when clearly such a decision depends from whose perspective it is being made… Accept, Do Not Impose!

I close my eyes, I think of Damascus… I see a corner dressed with jasmines, I smell their intoxicating perfume…. In just a few seconds, the thought of these simple flowers floods my mind with delightful memories, and for a few seconds, the world stops.
At this point you are wondering who is daydreaming… it is I, Luna Brozzi. Who am I? From my name you might come to the immediate conclusion that I am Italian, but do not be fooled as I have Syrian blood running through me. Twenty-five years ago I was born in Parma to an Italian father and a Syrian mother. A few months later, a journey began that has molded me into the person I am today. The first twelve years of my life were dispersed between living in China, Libya, Iraq, and the USA; the following six were in Damascus, Syria. In Damascus, like in all the other countries I had lived in, I attended an American school. Every summer consisted of visiting family in Italy and the United States. At seventeen, I graduated from high school and I felt that I was at a standstill. What to do with my future? Should I attend college in Italy or in the United States? In the end, I decided that it was time to live in Italy. I moved to Milan to attend Bocconi, where a degree was being offered entirely in English for the first time. After my graduation in 2004, I decided to move back to Damascus, where my parents still resided, in order to work. Three years later, under my fathers’ great encouragement, I moved back to Rome to begin a Master’s degree in Luiss.

It hasn’t been an easy ride. Damascus has a special place in my heart; the people are warm, the sun rarely disappears, and the history is deep… but like all roses, it has its thorns. The bureaucracy is absurd, the smog is terrible, and freedom of speech is a privilege for other countries… it is what it is. Upon arriving in Italy, I had many expectations. After all, I was coming to live in a developed, open-minded, European country… finally! It’s true that I had visited Italy at least once a year for the past seventeen years, that I was half Italian, that I spoke the language fluently, but somehow I had never absorbed it; I had always been just a visitor. Until now, between Milan and Rome, I have been living in Italy for four and a half years. I have come to learn many things about my country, and I have learned to love and hate it at the same time. Nobody can deny the wonder of Italian cuisine; its fame reaches all corners of the world. And it would be immoral to exclude its role in history, people, architecture; its physiognomy is among the most beautiful in the world. But let’s talk about the bureaucracy- at times I feel that it’s worse than Syria! At least in Syria I can escape the bureaucracy in two ways: first, as a woman, I am given a bit of “special treatment” and second, it is common knowledge that paying a couple of Syrian pounds can help get things done quicker.
Among the various encounters I had with Italian bureaucracy, the worst was renewing my Italian passport, which had expired a few weeks before. The bureaucrats did not want to renew it because I had no other valid ID, so I went to make an ID card. Once there, I was told that they could not give me an ID card because my residence was still in Damascus, despite the fact that I had officially changed my residence to Italy six months before. I had no idea what to do at that point. Back at the passport authority I re-explained the situation and the answer I received was, “I can NOT help you.” At that point I had had enough. I had waited in infinite lines and the people were rude and unwilling to help. How did I get them to do my passport? I shed a few tears. When did I receive the passport? Two months later. If this is the treatment an Italian citizen receives, how are immigrants treated?
Another thing that has left me perplexed is the university system. In the American system, students are taught to respect deadlines, to work under pressure, and to follow rules. Professors are there to teach and help the students. Transparency is important and so is organization. My perplexity arouse while attending Luiss. All final exams are oral but on rare occasions a professor might integrate it with a written exam. One of the first written exams I underwent in Luiss, I remember the professor asking us to write no more than 15 pages. At the end of the exam, I came to discover that some students had written over 20 pages and I figured that they would be “punished” as they had not followed the clear instructions that had been given. However, the opposite occurred – they were awarded. How about oral exams at the end of the semester? I have never understood how grades are attributed, and it seems to me that grades are very much at the discretion of the professor. Coming from a system where exams are graded much more objectively, as each question has an expected answer and set point value, it was hard for me to believe that the grades attributed in the Italian system were fair. Deadlines are not respected either. I fail to see how the Italian university system prepares students with the most basic principles needed in the working world.
The last thing that has left me in great awe is the mentality. Endless talks and conversations have led me to conclude that Italians are not so different from Arabs even though one is considered European, democratic and developed while the other is considered dictatorial and underdeveloped. Of course with regards to freedoms …