Earlier this year I found myself in a somewhat confusion circumstance; after studying the Koran and reading about the lives and views of the Sufi mystics I believed the first to be the word of God, much like the Bible, whereas the second provided me with all the spiritual food I needed. I was inspired and happy, but confused.

After all, if you are a Christian, can you consider the Koran to be the word of God, Sufi mystics to be inspiring religious men, and Mohammed to be the messenger of God?

It all started out as follows: my fiancee and I decided to study each other’s religion in order to find out what the other believed. This would, we hoped, help us understand each other. The more we knew about the other’s beliefs, we thought, the more we should be able to communicate with each other about those affairs without misunderstand one another.

So, she bought me a copy of the Koran - the word of God according to Moslems - and I started reading. At first, it struck me as a book quite similar to the Bible, although especially to the Old Testament. In a variety of ways it reflected the views expressed in that holy book for Christians: treat your neighbor like you want to be treated, show love and compassion to others, there is only one God, and you have the choice between going to heaven or to hell, depending on whether or not you believe in God and want to follow his teachings.

But there was something different about the Koran; well, several things really.

The first difference was the style; the Koran is written in a poetic style. As such, it does not merely speak to the intellect, it also speaks to the heart. After reading several Suras and continuing reading I found myself mystified by the poetry, down to the level of my soul.

“This is,” I thought, “the word of God. It touches me in a way not even the Bible was able to touch me.”

The second difference was the idea that Jesus was not the Son of God, but his Prophet, much like Abraham, Moses and, yes, Mohammed. According to the Koran, Christians later revised the Bible and changed Jesus’ status into the Son of God, where he was at first - during his life - seen as a prophet. A great prophet, but a prophet.

At first I was not bothered by the two differences pointed out above. Later this changed, however. I found myself wondering “can a Christian believe the Koran to be the word of God and Mohammed his messenger?” “If the Koran is the Word of God and Mohammed his messenger, what does this tell me about Jesus? What does the Koran say about Jesus and what does this mean for me personally?”

Those are difficult questions. Questions everyone has to answer on his own. No one can tell you the answers, you can only think, pray, meditate and let God do the rest. Others may give you advise, but in the end you have to determine what you believe and you have to draw conclusions.

For me, the change took place rather rapidly (several months), albeit under fierce internal debate. When I almost finished the Koran I noticed I truly believed in my heart that this was the word of God and, yes, that Jesus may have been a great prophet (according to famous Moslem Sufi Mystic Rumi the greatest even), but not the son of God. It did no longer make sense for me to believe that Jesus was the Son of God, who cured mankind from all its sins (as long as you believe). The Islamic beliefs on this subject made more sense to me.

So, after careful consultation with some people - among others my fiancee of course - I broke with Christianity in so far that I did no longer consider myself Christian and took the expression of faith all Moslems express when they pray: “ash hadoe Allah illaha ila-lah, muhammadan rasulluh lah.” ‘I declare that there is no God but God and that Mohammed is His prophet.’

And so I was a Christian no longer, but a Moslem.

Converting changed my life in some ways while it did not change anything in other regards. My political views, for instance, have remained the same. As a Westerner fully aware of the philosophical schools and thinking of the past, and especially of the enlightenment I am fully aware of the danger posed by mixing religion and politics. I believed that as a Christian, I believe that as a Moslem.

In other ways life did change, however. For instance, I now visit the mosque, not Church. I now pray Moslem-style, not Christian style. That is, not only in the Christian style. I pray the traditional Moslem prayer, standing, bowing down, touching the floor with your head, sitting, standing up again, all while facing Mecca, each day. Or I try to at least. I had to learn the traditional prayers; first in Dutch or English, then in Arabic. This too was a considerable change; never before had I spoken Arabic.

Those are changes, and important ones, but yesterday a change happened that was quite big, one that can be noticed by anyone; yesterday, Ramadan started in Europe. No smoking, eating or drinking allowed between sunrise (about 5AM here) and sunset (7:50 PM).

The idea of Ramadan is to commemmorate the prophet Mohammed’s travel from Mecca to Medina because of religious persecution. That is, it is one of the reasons why Moslems fast during a 30-days period. There are many others such as; learning oneself respect for food and water, understanding the poor, learning self-control and being better able to connect with God and with one’s soul by ignoring the demands of the physical body.

So yesterday I had to fast for the first time in my life. No drinking, no eating no smoking.

Beforehand I expected fasting to be hard, but not too hard. The main problem, I thought, would be not to smoke all day long. Not eating would be OK, because I have gone without eating for quite some hours before; I could do that then, I should be able to do so again. Drinking, on the other hand, would become a problem, I thought, but not as big of a problem as smoking. After all, smoking is an addiction, drinking water is not.

Well, true enough, but after a couple of hours I realized why drinking is a primary concern and smoking is not. Smoking quickly became a luxury, whereas I dreamed about drinking a glass of cold water constantly, even with my eyes open. I walked around the city of Izmir, Turkey, with a dry mouth and an agitated expression on my face because I saw others drinking water, while my body shouted “drink, drink!” to me.

I went into fasting with a positive mindset, but I quickly learned that this positive mindset does not stay during Ramadan unless you fight for it. I had to remind myself of the reasons for Ramadan every hour or so, and I had to remind myself that I was far from the only one longing for something to drink; my own fiancee also did Ramadan, and was just as thirsty as I.

The mind wanted to go on, to be active, to smile, and be happy to fast for the greater cause, but the body refused to comply. At 5 PM, I had to lay down on a couch and fell asleep.

I woke up at around 7PM, only 50 minutes before the call to prayer, symbolizing sunset and, thus, the end of the fast for the day.

The minutes went by slowly. Once again I reminded myself of the reasons for Ramadan and its uses. I looked at my fiancee, who was preparing food in the kitchen, and setting up water and other drinks while she could not consume any of it at that moment. I realized just how difficult it had to be for her; I had a hard time, but for her it should be even harder considering the fact that she saw water before her eyes constantly. Yet, she told me, she did not once feel the urge to take a secret sip.

With 10 minutes left my body suddenly found the energy to sit up, even to walk around. The television kept track of where people were allowed to eat. The minutes went by rather slowly, but still; positive. Finally. Drinking.

And then… 19:50 (or 51); the end! I made it! What a joy! What an adventure.

O water, I love thee! Thou arst beautiful, wonderful, and refreshing. It is thee I need. Thee and only thee!

I filled a glass with water, and quickly began drinking. Realizing that drinking fast after such a long period of drinking nothing may cause quite some problems, however, I slowed down and just enjoyed the taste. I noticed the change almost immediately in my body; I could smile again - mildly, but still - and I noticed what was going on around me. I also was capable of understanding other peoples’  feelings again; this had disappeared during the fasting, because the mind is completely focused on oneself and one’s own problems, not on the suffering of others.

I went outside to smoke a cigarette (with a new glass of water of course), and went inside to eat the wonderful meal prepared by the lady of the house.

Wonderful. What a taste. Thank God for food and water! Thank God for all these blessings! Thank God for technology, development, rain, sun… everything that helps us feed ourselves and feel reenergized.

And Esma, of course.