With Eid al-Adha around the corner on Monday November 7, I remember how I spent my first Eid in Canada last year—I ate burritos.
If you don’t know about Eid, let me explain what it is, and how I usually celebrate it in Bahrain (hint: not with burritos).
Twice a year, Arabs and Muslims around the world are swept up in a festive fervor for Eid. There’s Eid al-Adha (also known as Feast of Sacrifice or Festival of Sacrifice), and Eid al-Fitr (also known as Feast of Fast-Breaking or the Lesser Feast). The dates for the two Eids change each year based on the Islamic calendar.
Much like Christmas in the ‘Western’ world, there’s no way you could miss it. The sense of celebration is palpable everywhere you go and with everyone you meet.
When I lived in Bahrain, celebrating Eid was one of the highlights of the year for my eight nephews and nieces. Every year, there would be a new outfit for each day of the holiday, and they were always super excited. The older kids would walk into my father’s house, where we all gathered, and beam with pride as they showed off their new clothes. The younger kids would be dressed in what their parents had painstakingly chosen as the most gush-worthy ensembles.
As the children got more and more excited, we would ask them all to quiet down. They would look at each other, grin and sit cross-legged on the floor. They knew they’d each get one gift. In the past few years, they’ve gotten everything from toys to live turtles.
My nieces and nephews in Bahrain, getting gifts during Eid.
As you get older, you would get an ‘eid-eya’, a holiday allowance. In my family’s tradition, we would then usually go have dinner together somewhere nice. It always seemed as if the whole country was out and about. The roads would be crowded, people would look and smell their best and almost every child looked like they were high on joy.
After eating with my family, I would usually meet my friends to hang out, smoke some hookah or party.
…So now you see why my friends scoffed in disbelief at how I spent my first Eid in Canada.
Honestly, if it weren’t for my Facebook newsfeed I would’ve forgotten. I asked two Muslim friends of mine if we could have lunch together. Being three international students and away from home, we all got quite excited at the idea. The three of us walked around campus trying to decide where to eat. We eventually landed in a burrito restaurant. After making the tough decision of whether I want to go with chicken or beef, the three of us sat down and chatted. The conversation was very interesting.
We talked about different Islamic interpretations, stereotypes of Muslims and our personal views. I was really glad I didn’t have to spend my first Canadian Eid alone, even if I was broke, gift-less and staring at a menu with words that I couldn’t understand (“What is a ‘tamale’ anyway?”).
With my friends at the burrito restaurant for Eid.
Nevertheless, my mind kept drifting to what my family was doing and what surprises my sisters had planned for the kids. I wondered if my friends were at our favorite Karaoke bar, singing our signature songs. I also couldn’t help thinking that if I was with family, I would’ve gotten an ‘eid-eya’ and the choice of whether to buy another burrito or not wouldn’t have been so difficult.
But this year, I’m more prepared.
I had flown back to Bahrain this past August and managed to catch Eid-al-Fitr with my family. As I savored every moment of the celebrations, I had come to a realization: Eid is about the sharing. It’s about sharing food, laughter and happiness. Eid is about family: the one you were born with or the one you create along the way. This past year I’ve formed a Canadian family—a group of people from around the world I’ve come to love and cherish.
This Eid, I’m having them over for a potluck.
I’m going to decorate my apartment and take a wild stab at cooking some of my favorite Eid dishes (or more realistically, panic in the background as my roommates try to salvage the situation). I’m always going to miss spending Eid with my actual family and friends in Bahrain and Egypt. But Vancouver is a third home now, and it’s about time I start my own ritual here.
I wonder if at one point, years from now, if I’ll look back and feel a bittersweet pang when I think of my first Eid potluck. I sure hope I do.
Until then, I might even make a burrito lunch on the first day of Eid mandatory!
What about you? Have you had to adapt any of your celebrations or festivities in a new city or a new country? Did you manage to make the event your own while holding on to traditions that you love?
I’d love to hear from you.