It’s a month of sightseeing. A month of cultural tourism. A month of reviving what is absolutely un-cool during the other 11 months of the year.

It’s Ramadan, and for some reason, Ramadan in popular culture is about kicking the Western lifestyle in the balls and going back a few hundred years in our own lifestyle. It’s about drinking too much amardeen, giggling at grown men wearing clogs while they serve nargilehs, and weird ass tents with fortune tellers discovering the future through cups of Turkish coffee.

Middle Eastern cities themselves turn into Vegas-like Arabian-Nights themed spaces. Amman, for example, shines with the (neon) lights of a million lanterns, imported from China, hanging from every window. The restaurants and coffeeshops adjust their menus and decorations to go with the Ramadan theme of hard-core Arabic food (I love how the really funky and kitschy silks, coppers, and woods make an appearance every year, only to be put away). Supermarkets and malls turn into souqs, suddenly providing certain goodies, like atayef, that are not available during the rest of the year. Entertainment too is affected, as you can see from long running shows that look at the dark ages of our civilization with longing eyes (Bab El-Hara being a good example), or crappy plays that are suddenly the funniest thing in the world.

It’s so fascinating, because Ramadan seems to be that time of the year when the Muslim world decides to go through an intra-cultural tourism trip, way back in time. We become our own tourists, consuming our own culture with blind enthusiasm, sans the historical guidebooks and the pleasures of witnessing that which is new.

Mind you, I am not complaining, though I must admit that I find it really annoying that all restaurants – whether Chinese, Italian, or junk – suddenly serve the same “Ramadan menu” of jallab, stuffed lamb, and 3osmaleyi. My taste buds and visual preferences aside, the cultural tourism aspect of Ramadan is something to think about.

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