Getting Down at Eid

I was invited up to Aleppo for Eid by my boyfriend's family. They are no strangers to the draw of ajnabiyyat as his uncle is married to a Russian woman. We went out to dinner all together the first day,a group of more than 20 plus innumerous children running around everywhere (bill was only 8000 lira). Every one thought it was a little weird I don't eat meat, but Abd al-Karim's wife doesn't either so at least I had an ally. I've meet the uncle and his Rusiyya wife before, but this was the first time I had seen her outside of the house and was surprised to see she's muhajiba. Since last summer, she said.

"Maybe you'll be hijabing eventually too."
"Impossible."
"Why?" She and two of the other uncle's daughters leaned in.
"I already have enough trouble matching pants and shirts - match a hijab too? Impossible. I see how all the muhajibas got it going on - matching it all up. Look at me - today I'm wearing blue and black and white and green with a red coat. It's a disaster."


They laughed, and the subject was dropped. I thought this was easier than responding as I had, throughout Ramadan, to inquiries why I wasn't fasting: "I'm not Muslim." This would usually have to be expanded on with reference to Lent.
"Why don't you just try fasting?"
"I did Lent, so I'm good." or "We have our own fasting time." ("We" being Christians).

But this is just dishonest, and slids into that murky grey area where a little lie about being a Christian turns into immense discussions in which I have to defend Catholic theology. Not that I thought a pleasant Eid dinner would turn to dicussions of the divinity of Jesus; but still in awe of Syrian women's ability to put together an outfit, this is more true than professing my devotion to the Christian faith.


But luckily the family's religiosity on hijab did not extend to alcohol, and we were able to enjoy a regular bachanal (well, kind of). The second day of Eid we went to a Saher (staying-up-late) party at the Jalal Sport Club, decked out to look like not a sports club. On the way in I whispered to my boyfriend, asking if there would drink, and if so, would it be alright to drink in front of his family. He said probably, but since we're still on the trying-to-impress them stage, only if others are drinking.

There was a bottle of whiskey waiting for us at the table, with uncles and a cousin already sipping it neat. Most every other table had wine or whiskey as well. The table was overfilling with appetizers, most of which were meatless. A known singer entertained and during particularly engaging songs half the congregation got up to boogie. We ate and drank and danced till well past 2am. It was interesting to celebrate a Muslim holiday with a family where most of the women veil and the whiskey is liberally poured. I think there's a conception in America that Muslims as a rule are very religious and strict, when proponents of any faith vary in adherence to the letter and spirit of the Law.

But glad we're in agreement alcohol is the way to celebrate a holiday.