A Zombie-less Ramadan

I awoke to the distant pounding of a resonant drum. Or did I? It seems such an odd thing to hear 4am- a bass drum booming in rhythmic progression- could I have been dreaming this? But I got out of bed just the same.

I looked out the window, into the darkness broken only by a pallid streetlight, and saw him slowly marching down the street pounding his big bass drum. He couldn't have been more than ten or 11 years old--a pre-pubescent Turkish band camp zombie, I quickly decided. So, the dream theory was gaining momentum.

I felt a mix of pity and anger - surely this kid was going to get screamed at, or pelted with rancid produce. What was his deal? Was he sleepdrumming? I suppressed the urge to yell from my window and just went back to bed.

The next morning I discovered that it was Ramadan. This was a tradition - the drum sounded well before dawn to wake people up so that they could eat before dawn. During Ramadan, which lasts a month, nothing can pass a Muslim's lips from dawn to dusk: no food, no water... nothing. It helps Muslims remember the suffering of the poor, as well as practice self-control. Plus, they are all in it together - it's a good way to commune with fellow believers.

I respect and admire the devotion of these people, and am happy that the drummer boy was real (and not a zombie).