2025 Ramadan Reflections
I.
Happy Monday, I hope things are well with you and yours.
I was alarmed to see the US cut off military aid and intelligence support to Ukraine this week. Even more concerning, the administration is now reaching out to opposition forces within the country—likely to put pressure on Zelensky or even pave the way for a more Moscow-friendly government in Kyiv. In short, the U.S. has switched sides in the war.
I also took note of a troubling immigration case this week: a Palestinian activist and U.S. green card holder has been disappeared by the Department of Homeland Security. His whereabouts at the moment are unknown. And on the economic front, the already senseless trade war with Canada and Mexico has escalated further, straining relationships with two of the country’s closest partners.
None of those are the topic of this week's newsletter but again I think they are demonstrative of the state of affairs and worth paying attention to.
II.
Last week, we had a four-day weekend here in the Gulf, coinciding with the start of Ramadan. Hope and I took the opportunity for a quick trip along the Arabian Peninsula to Doha, Qatar’s capital. NGL, Doha is not everyone’s cup of tea, but I dig it.
While in Doha, we spent time with a couple from back home who work at a school similar to ours. Every capital in the region has an “American school,” all part of the same athletic conference. We teach at ACS, the American Community School, while they work at AS Doha—so called to avoid confusion with another ASD in the region, the American School of Dubai (I hope you followed all that).
Long story longer, the husband and I used to teach together at Lincoln in Tacoma, and like us, they’ve been in the region since 2019. We went over to their place for what was supposed to be a quick visit but turned into a five-hour hangout, full of conversation about life and the state of the world. There’s something comforting about spending time with people on a similar journey, and it was refreshing to swap observations about both life here and back home.
In Doha, I noticed while checking into our hotel that the bar was closed until Eid al-Fitr, the holiday marking the end of Ramadan. Someone explained that many non-Muslims working in hospitality take this time to travel home and be with their families. While in Doha, we also made our first trip to the Souk Waqif and did some falcon related sightseeing.
On the downside, I caught a case of food poisoning and had a pretty miserable Sunday travel day and Monday back home, ergo no newsletter last week.
Gastrointestinal distress aside, I really enjoy experiencing Ramadan in the Gulf.
On the occupational front, we have a shortened school day. The midday prayer happens at 1:10 p.m., and school is dismissed at 1:30. In this way, Ramadan offers the gift of time to us. My observant students go home and rest and I have a bit more leisure time in the afternoon.
I’ve described it to people back home as “Lent with commitment,” with each day’s fast ending in iftar—a meal that, for me, carries the same warmth as Sunday dinners from my childhood. As a practicing Christian, I find that Ramadan brings me closer to my own faith. Life slows down, and there’s a collective sense of mindfulness. People from all walks of life volunteer together in large numbers to distribute food, not just to those in need but to anyone passing by. It feels like humanity at its best.
On Friday evening, I was driving Hope home from a doctor’s appointment when I noticed the streets lined with people in bright yellow vests. It reminded me of those firefighter “Fill the Boot” fundraisers back home—but in reverse. Instead of collecting donations, they were handing out food and bottles of water to anyone passing by. A quick glance at my watch confirmed why: the fast was just minutes from ending.
That all said, observances and restrictions during Ramadan vary throughout the region. I am told by the old-timers that things are much more business as usual than they used to be here in Abu Dhabi during the month. Most restaurants around the city are open but largely empty.
Yesterday afternoon, I went to a screening of Christopher Nolan's 2014 masterpiece Interstellar, (note the unusual Monday newsletter). It is being re-released in IMAX. Walking through the mall, I noted that the food court was occupied but not busy. There were some families, mainly Filipinos and Eastern Europeans, enjoying a Sunday out, but things seemed subdued in the space. Generally, during Ramadan the public playing of music is discouraged. And many of the Muslims who are fasting rest during the afternoon. So things just seem to move a touch slower.
Each Ramadan since moving to the Gulf, I’ve made it a point to fast at least once. The rest of the days, I’ve settled into a routine of having three dates and a glass of water in the morning, then running on that until the school day ends and I get home. What my students and colleagues undertake is far more demanding, but this middle ground feels like a better choice than sneak eating in the staff lounge during the morning break, or awkwardly dodging gazes over morning tea.
III.
If you’d like a more personal sense of what things are like, I’ve linked below to two episodes of the podcast. The first features a Jordanian-American colleague, Amy, sharing her experiences with Ramadan while a student in school. The second features an Egyptian-American colleague, Jasmine, discussing the importance of Ramadan and how it strengthens her faith. Both women are delightful, and I think both conversations are worth listening to—or revisiting.
Whether you're observing Ramadan, celebrating Easter, or simply enjoying spring, these traditions offer a universal sense of reflection and community. As I navigate life between multiple cultures, I’m continually reminded of how much more connects us than separates us—a reminder that feels especially important given the state of the world.
Next week, I'll share some thoughts on how I am adapting my classroom instruction to meet the moment we find ourselves, but until then, I invite you to listen to these conversations with my colleagues about their Ramadan experiences:
Wishing you peace wherever and however this letter finds you.
As always, if you have any thoughts or feedback about the newsletter, I welcome it, and I really appreciate it when folks share the newsletter with their friends.