As Muslims across the world observe Ramadan this month, one group can't avoid food even while fasting.
Observant Muslim food vendors in New York City dole out kebabs and gyros, falafels and hot dogs, all day every day, without a morsel touching their lips.
Muslim Street Food Vendors Observe Ramadan FastAs the Islamic holy month of Ramadan begins, the daily fast will be a special challenge to street food vendors, who spend their days selling lamb and chicken. They squeeze in five prayer times a day and struggle to keep up with the furious pace of patrons, refraining from even water during the dog days of August.
"When you're thirsty and when you're hungry and you serve good food and cold water and soda, imagine how hard it is?" said Fikry Ahmed, the Egyptian owner of Sam's Falafel cart in Manhattan's Liberty Plaza. "I drink my coffee in the morning and suddenly I don't drink my coffee. I feel like in my head is an explosion. It is very, very hard."
Ramadan, which began last week, is a period of 30 days marking the ninth month of the Muslim lunar calendar, considered to be the holiest time of the year. Observant Muslims fast from dawn to dusk, avoiding all food and drink as a means of purifying themselves and showing their devotion to God.
Muslims in the restaurant industry across the city—from Steinway Street in Astoria to Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn—observe Ramadan. Steinway Street becomes a virtual ghost town during the day. But come night, the cafes overflow with people.
Still, most restaurants lose 40% to 50% of their revenue during the month, estimated Ali Elsayed, owner of the Kabab Café. For Mr. Elsayed, fasting has become impossible: "When you work in the restaurant business, you have to eat food and taste food all the time."
A majority of the city's several thousand food vendors are Muslims, according to Sean Basinski, director of the Street Vendor Project, an advocacy group for vendors. The majority are immigrants from Egypt and Bangladesh and observe Ramadan, he said.
Most continue to work full days during Ramadan, but some like Mohammad A. Hussain, who has a cart in Brooklyn outside of SUNY Downstate Medical Center, will close shop a little early. "I'm losing a couple of hundred dollars weekly, so maybe God give it to me another time," Mr. Hussain said.
Firky Ahmed sells food to customers at his Sam's Falafel stand even while he is fasting during the day. Miraz Sarker, 22, works at a smoothie and fruit cart downtown. On Wednesday, he broke down and had a hot dog and water at 5 p.m. "I almost fell down, it was so hot," he said.
Mr. Sarker suspects that the men who work with fryers and grills and little ventilation can't possibly be truly fasting. "They'll tell you they're fasting but they're not, it's too hot," he said.
As difficult as fasting is, Mr. Ahmed said that after the first week his body adjusts and it becomes much easier. "After seven days I feel like I'm flying, not walking," he said.
Mr. Ahmed said fasting teaches him empathy for poor people, because he can feel their hunger and thirst and self-discipline.
An added side benefit, he said: "Free gym. I lose 10 to 15 pounds every year."