tomistree

It’s 7pm and I just had a very wholesome dinner. Actually not dinner, but Iftar. When I tell people I am fasting and joining Ramadan their first question is if I am a Muslimah. I’m not. But I think especially these days and especially in the western countries there is a lot of misjudgment towards Islam (mostly based on the lack education I think). This and my own curiosity are reasons enough to dive into the culture, experience it, learn about it. 

I come back to Lombok since 2019 now, again and again. Started to learn their language, studied here, found a family and now I teach and do my own research here. I sit in the library of Lombok where all the important papers I need are kept and I realise how lucky I am to always feel homesick for this place far away from my actual home.

First I got to know the culture of Lombok. Then one year ago I started to learn Arabic, questioning politics – driven by this driven by this incredibly dehumanised violation of human rights happening in Palestine. My empathy for the Palestinians grows so that I’d like to learn about their religion since we learned almost nothing about it in school. 

So here I am living for a few weeks on a small permaculture farm – a beautiful garden with goats and chicken and fruit trees – with this woman that invited me to join her for Iftar tonight. It is day 8 of fasting; there is Sahur in the morning around 4am which is the last meal before sunrise. After that we don’t eat or drink until sunset. Then the sun sets and around 7pm it’s time for Iftar. Noor – the owner of this small farm – is some kind of a mystery to me to be honest. She seems to live alone, might be in her fifties and puts education and health over all. She told me she used to be a teacher in Singapore and showed me her little library. Feel free to use my books, she said, but put them back in the right order. Mostly books about gardening, language and religion. 

It’s pouring rain when I hustle to the main house – prayers from the near mosque already have started. I wait on the veranda facing the garden, three more minutes until Azan, the prayer that announces Iftar. Love to watch the blue hour just after sunset mixed with heavy rainfall; everything seems to wake up one last time before the night comes. So many sounds. 

There are plates on the table each with a date on it. Ginger coffee, tea and glasses filled with water. Small pies; sweet and savoury. Two kinds of rice, fish and cassava. Rendang and tempe. Suddenly I understand why people say that Ramadan teaches you to appreciate a meal. I feel kind of blessed to join a meal that has been put together with love so carefully. We say Bismillah and start eating. She asks me about my home and explains to me traditions like why she puts sea salt and apple vinegar on the table as well. To maintain your minerals and keep your stomach balanced, she sais. After finishing the food she sais Alhamdulillah and excuses herself – she will go to the mosque for the last praying of the day. I go back through the garden to my room feeling grateful and kind of energised after finally eating. Eager to write about this and share it with you. I may not be religious like Noor but I learn a lot about patience and gratefulness during this special month.