Ramadan so far:

I’ve gotten to go to a few different iftars with different families around Amman. This is the one activity that Jordanians are extremely prompt for. That last hour of fasting is the hardest- especially if you’re the one slaving over the hot stove- so as soon as the call to prayer starts, it’s time to eat.

With the Abdelsalam family, we had a mix of traditional Arab food and a couple Italian dishes— the mother is originally from Italy, but converted to Islam when she married her husband. Knowing I was a vegetarian, she kindly made me a little eggplant dish. After being implored to eat more, we had dessert: little pancake-like pastries stuffed with either cheese or nuts, topped with a rosewater syrup, and prickly pear fruit (zaki kteer, but I couldn’t figure out how to eat it without all the seeds).

The Taha family consisted of my friend, Tiffany (her husband is Jordanian), her three children and her in-laws. She brings her children to Jordan during the summers so that they can spend time with their grandparents and learn Arabic. Téta is Damascene, so the food she prepared was a lot of traditional Arabic dishes, but with that very unique Syrian flavour. Grape leaves stuffed with rice and peppers, potatoes topped with beef and lebaneh, lentil soup, roasted vegetables and chicken. Dessert was the same special Ramadan pastries (the name escapes me at the moment) and Turkish coffee.

Tiffany’s son, Jude, is five years old and loves Turkish coffee. Now I understand why Jordanians seem to need so little sleep. They start pounding that caffeine as toddlers, nap during the afternoons, eat, then after iftar go out drinking more coffee until 2 am. And the kids are right there with their parents, every bit as awake, sitting in the cafes smoking argileh or playing backgammon and monopoly. For me, I am just sapped of energy and haven’t slept through the night in two weeks. Ramadan is not good for my insomnia.