Storytelling, games make Iraq comeback on Ramadan
“ONCE upon a time” tales and fol ksy ga mes f rom t he pretelevision days are making a comeback in Iraq during the long nig ht s of t he Muslim fasting month of Ramadan.
Traditional storyteller Abdel Wahed Ismail, with a red fez atop his head, yellow scarf draped over his shoulders, in a black gallabia gown, captivates audiences in the northern metropolis of Mosul.
As in other Muslim countries, the annual month of dawn-to-dusk fasting is a time for evening gatherings in restaurants, coffee shops or homes of family and friends across Iraq.
While many spend the night in prayer at mosques between an evening feast and pre-dawn snacks, others take part in games that in Iraq are reserved for Ramadan.
Up until one or t wo generat ions ago, Ra madan nig hts were the preserve of the hakawat i, or A r ab stor y tel ler s, r e g a l i n g a ud i e nc e s w i t h fables as wel l as loca l news and historica l stories.
Mosul, now a city of almost two million people, has for centuries been a commercial and intellectual hub of the Middle East.
Wit h t he a r r iva l of telev ision and radio in t he 1960s, the hakawati vanished from the coffee shops and restaur a nt s where f a mi l ie s a nd friends gat hered.
Two years after Mosul – a city gripped by violence following the 2003 US-led invasion that toppled Saddam Hussein – was freed from the stranglehold of the Islamic State jihadist group, Ismail has been leading a revival.
The 70-yea r-old actor a nd loca l celebrit y ta kes his seat each night on a white wooden bench on a plat for m to tel l t a les i n t he u n mist a k able Moslawi dia lect.
“I’ve lived through so many different times, so I tr y to pass on stor ies of good t hings to young people,” sa id Isma i l, who w it nessed t he bloody overthrow of Iraq’s monarchy a s wel l a s a succession of coups and wars.
W h i le t a le s such a s t he ch iva l rous epic “A nta r a nd Abla” put smiles on the faces of older members of the audience as they reminisce, Ismail s l ips i n referenc e s to h ip online games such as PUBG for the younger ones.
Tray and ring games
In the oil city of Kirkuk, halfway between Baghdad and Mosul in northern Iraq, the game of “Sini wa Zarf” (the tray and the envelope, in Kurdish) has hundreds of Ramadantime aficionados among its rival Kurdish, Turkmen and Arab communities.
“It’s also known as the game of the communities because it really brings together all the communities,” said Shano Askar, a Kurd in his 30s, absorbed in an encounter.
A rou nd t he cit y ’s cit adel a nd across it s histor ic districts, outdoor cof fee and tea shops are packed with enthusiasts, t heir eyes glued on t he metal trays and 11 upturned small gold cups used for the game.
A dice is hidden under one of the cups and the players have to work out which one.
A not her c ompet it ion i n which players must f i nd a hidden object – “mheibess” (rings) – is extremely popular in Baghdad.
A player discreetly slips a ring to a member of his team, and their adversaries have to figure out who, reading their body language and facial expressions.
Such games form part of a wider social phenomenon as Ra madan nig hts t ur n once again, of ten for t he f irst time since t he 2013 invasion, into socia l events rat her t ha n a time to be hunkered down at home.
They also serve to show that “technological progress has not got the better of the good things of the past”, said Iraqi sociologist Saad Ahmed.