Ramadan is a month of discipline. Fasting. Letting go of the physical needs in order to cling to the spiritual.

I was able to experience these things the last two nights. I let go of my selfish, physical desire to simply stop eating when I am full, and I continued to scoop food from the piles of rice and chicken on my plate as the cook added heaps.

Luckily, I was not alone with my dear Arab friends because my vegetarian roommate was with me. I got to sneak her meat onto my plate and eat it for her.

I could feel my face begin to heat, and sweat dropped from my forehead and I concentrated on eating more... and more... and more. Whenever I looked at my plate, there was still so much left. I began to push the food off my plate and let it "drop" onto the table and floor around me, hoping no one would notice.

Somehow we finished, but my plate was never less than half-full. Little did I know that next there would be 3 desserts brought out, one after the other.

The eating finally finished around midnight. Since I was spending the night, I told everyone goodnight and went to sleep while the rest of the family stayed up preparing for the next meal.

The next meal took place at 3:30am. I was awoken from my "nap" at 3:00am to the smell of fried food, very aware of the fact that none of the food from dinner had digested yet. We dragged ourselves to the table and then ate fried filafel and french fries until 4am. Once we heard the Call to Prayer, it was officially bedtime. 4:30am.

Everyone slept until 1pm. Then, we got up and the preparations for the next meal began.

Ramadan. Its kind of fun.