I feel like my 7-year-old self waking up on Christmas morning as I slip on my new poinsettia-red outfit. I rub my fingers across the smooth mini reflective mirrors and feel the bumpiness of the sequins and thread to secure everything in its place.
Eid is one of two major Muslim holidays. This first Eid marks the end of the month of fasting called Ramadan. Locals celebrate by having quick visits to the homes of family and friends to drink tea and eat sweets. For those who can afford it, they wear a brand new outfit and the children receive money. Kids race to a nearby shop to buy whatever toy or sweet they can with their newfound funds.
Shouts of joy meander through the open windows. I peek out an upstairs window and observe two elementary-aged boys chasing after each other in the dirt street with their new toy guns.
Eid is one of two major Muslim holidays. This first Eid marks the end of the month of fasting called Ramadan. Locals celebrate by having quick visits to the homes of family and friends to drink tea and eat sweets. For those who can afford it, they wear a brand new outfit and the children receive money. Kids race to a nearby shop to buy whatever toy or sweet they can with their newfound funds.
Shouts of joy meander through the open windows. I peek out an upstairs window and observe two elementary-aged boys chasing after each other in the dirt street with their new toy guns.
After applying make-up—something I rarely do these days—I add my faux gold dangling earrings and costume gold necklace to my complete my festive look.
One by one, I carefully slide on my set of four 21-carat gold bangles, a treasured gift from my husband years ago when we started to date, but also highly coveted by every Central Asian woman.
Clink! Clink! Clink! Clink! The bracelets jingle together in their familiar melody. The corners of my mouth turn upward. I sashay downstairs.
Clink! Clink! Clink! Clink! The bracelets jingle together in their familiar melody. The corners of my mouth turn upward. I sashay downstairs.
My husband and I visit two households together, but we don't stay in the same rooms. He's taken to the men's guest room while I'm whisked away to the designated hosting room for women. With limited language, I'm grateful a short visit is expected for the holiday. This takes my mind off the pressure for what to say with my limited vocabulary and allows me to savor the experience.
I step into the women’s room. Compartmental glass trays filled with a wider than usual assortment of dried fruit, candy, and nuts spread across the Persian rug. Trays lined up next to the floor cushions contain sweets I haven't seen or tasted yet.
A small sampler plate of goodies and a steaming cup of green tea is set in front of me. The hostess beams with holiday cheer and I sit on the soft floor cushions.
I step into the women’s room. Compartmental glass trays filled with a wider than usual assortment of dried fruit, candy, and nuts spread across the Persian rug. Trays lined up next to the floor cushions contain sweets I haven't seen or tasted yet.
A small sampler plate of goodies and a steaming cup of green tea is set in front of me. The hostess beams with holiday cheer and I sit on the soft floor cushions.
One treat grabs my attention. It resembles an orange donut hole. I lift the dessert to my mouth. My eyes widen. This thing heavier than I anticipated—and dense.
I take a small bite, wondering if this will not be a treat I'll want to repeat. But then the soft, syrupy flavor cascades inside my mouth. This donut-hole imposter melts in my mouth. My eyes sparkle like tinsel on a Christmas tree.
“What is this?” I ask, slightly in awe.
“Mutiyeh,” the hostess says. Her eyebrows arch and a half smile plays across her lips.
“What is this?” I ask, slightly in awe.
“Mutiyeh,” the hostess says. Her eyebrows arch and a half smile plays across her lips.