Guilty Feet

Guilty Feet

Ramadan is a holy month of fasting and prayer for Muslims and I’m in the thick of it. From sunrise to sunset they fast without food, water, and smoking. Not to mention nookie. Most of the restaurants are closed during this time and the buildings that are serving food are covered to avoid temptation or offense. Even drinking water in public is considered a grave offence and if you were to walk down the street with a chicken shawarma in your hand you could be arrested. You could also be arrested for dancing in public during this time. It reminds me of that awful George Michael song that they kept on playing the muzak version of in my last hotel, “I’m never gonna dance again, guilty feet have got no rhythm”.

Once sunset hits it’s Iftar time. Muslims break their fast with a dinner at sundown so it’s best not to be on the roads as you may be run over by a local with low blood sugar on their race home to eat.

I know this is going to sound rude but every time I see an Arab in their white robe and traditional dress I think that they are wearing a Halloween costume. They all wear sandals. I am in a posh fashion area and they don’t sell designer Italian shoes, rather, designer leather sandals!

It is a very serious offense to be drunk in public at anytime and it is illegal for locals to drink! If you are a local and you want to drink you have to have a valid liquour permit. You cannot even be in possession of alcohol. I wonder what kind of test you have to pass in order to get that license? How do you study for that?

There I go again. I’ve just offended somebody for sure. Plus it’s during Ramadan and before Iftar. Way to go Deano. I might as well smoke a Sheesha on the corner and see what happens.

In this bland sobriety I managed to find myself a proper pint last night. Upon a recommendation I located the clandestine entrance of a pub in a hotel’s alleyway . Upon entrance I was transported to the UK. Foreigners were drinking and smoking in relaxed hedonistic abandon. I felt like I had slipped through a wormhole. It was my second drink in almost two weeks. Guinness is goodness.