Monday, August 29, 2011

Eid day celebrations

I remember my first Eid. Olive green pants, paisley shirt and, tan shoes and bottle green jersey. (It was the 90’s, paisley was big back then)I was 11 and I was a new Muslim. I was excited, sucking the Muslimness out of everything. My mother went the extra mile. It was around 1991 when my mother was earning about R850 a month. Rent on the house was about R280 per month. But my mother lay byed those clothes and made sure we all had clothes for Eid. Of course those were our occasion clothes, the kind of clothes that get washed and put away until some event or occasion when they would be taken out again to be worn.
It was cold that morning and it was confusing. No one told us what to expect from Eid day. We didn’t know what to do. Malay Eid is a little different. We didn’t know any of the words to any of the “hymns”  (Private joke) but we were there. 4 of us huddled together like refugees amongst people we didn’t really know. After Namaaz etc coming out of the Masjid (Back then the East London community was still small and you could come late and still find place to sit in what was then the only Masjid) We had no idea how to greet. I think I ended up greeting someone like a Russian. Hahaha.
Eid means different things to different people. Over the years it’s evolved into a close family thing. As we grew up, we developed our own rules. We used to still be that close huddled group of 4, except we weren’t those scared kids anymore. We knew stuff, there was no sense of needing to fit in. Being Muslim was not new anymore. People would come to our house. We would go to my father’s grave. But it was all about that.
This year we’re all situated at different destinations so that sense of family has been lost and Eid is just a day for me. Luckily I have a few people going out of their way to make Eid special for me. My cousin, his wife and my aunt, incidentally not Muslim, helping me celebrate Eid.
I guess my conclusion now is that, when we had little, our family tended to be closer. Now that there are a few more coins in the pocket and fatter bellies, we’ve lost sight of what is important to us.

The OH

PS. I am not fishing for an invite so if you do invite me and I say no, its not me being rude, I'm just antisocial.

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