Ramadan, day one

Today I carried water on my head from the spring (like most days), did laundry, tended to my new puppy, bought a doormat from my seamstress's sister who weaves them out of her fabric scraps, made bread on my charcoal stove "oven" for the first time, and otherwise felt like a great domestic success. I was going to do some data collection in my village but the health clinic was closed, presumably because of the holy day, and the entire village was very quiet. 

So I'm trying to observe the fasting of Ramadan. I've never done it before, seeing as I've never lived around this many Muslims before, but I am giving it a try. Yesterday, the last day before Ramadan, the last thing I ate was sweet spiced chai and two mandazi (slightly sweet fried donut type things). I had come back to my village that day from getting my puppy, and on days that I travel (and sundays, I've decided), I don't have the time or energy to light my charcoal stove to cook for myself, so I go to one of the chai houses. I went as night was falling, and waited as the fresh kettle of tea warmed up on red coals and watched the man fry batch after batch of mandazi. Finally the chai was ready and was poured for me, and two mandazi, still steaming hot, were placed befor me. Dinner of champions. 

And then it wasn't until after the sun set today that I ate or drank anything again. This one day hasn't been that difficult, but then again I didn't really exert myself today - I'm sure I would be saying something different if I had been working on a farm under the hot sun all day, as many people here do. And I'm sure I'll be saying something different in a week or two's time.