One of the biggest adjustments as a new Muslim in a non-Muslim household, is adjusting to a halaal diet. Never before have I been so careful to read labels – and me who was originally a label-reading fussy eater to start with! Not only that, but being in a really awkward series of situations where I have to try and explain why I can’t eat from that pot, or have even that small dollop of gravy on my rice!
The hardest challenge is when the food is doubtful (“mushbooh”) and I wonder whether I must eat it out of charity when being a guest… or decline as politely as possible. In the end I usually abstain as far as possible from doubtful foods, but I admit, I have once or twice eaten them to keep the charity! For example, once we were invited to my brother’s place to eat flapjacks, and he added a little vanilla essence to the mixture. I looked at the bottle and didn’t see alcohol listed on the ingredients, nor did I smell any (vanilla essence containing a lot of alcohol), so, although I was not happy, I just gave in so as to not cause ructions. At the time, neither he nor my sister-in-law knew I was Muslim (I hadn’t yet told them).
As the only Muslim in my family, I constantly remember that I am a representative of Islam to them, and try to not be too fussy; Da’wah is important, even though Allah (SWT) alone guides them to Islam, be it His will. As they eventually come to know I am Muslim, I will gradually inform them (as I am doing now with my parents) as to what I can and cannot eat, and ease into more stricter halaal practice. For now, I have to do what I can with good intentions…
My parents have been quite bewildered at why I can’t eat certain types of food now, but as time passes they are more accommodating. In the beginning, it wasn’t so easy. One day, soon after my reversion, I was asked at lunchtime if I wanted some ham. So I refused, and when I explained I can’t eat pork anymore, I was on the receiving end of a vexed retort! Another challenge, was to try and explain recently why I couldn’t eat of the homemade soup, even when the meat cooking with it was taken out. How could I explain that meat or no meat, it was still cooking in the meat juices? Sigh!
There is yet another issue to deal with – washing the dishes. With our pet dog being allowed to lick off the supper plates sometimes (which I stopped letting her do now with mine!) and with the wine glasses, the water is officially “mutanajjis” – impure. So I would have to re-rinse my dishes. I am still slowly moving towards using separate ones, which would help a lot in removing frustration. I say “slowly move,” because again, it has to do with explaining…
Alhamdulillah, it is a little easier now in some ways. I am fortunate that, although the halaal issue seems silly to my parents at times, they don’t press the issue. I try to accompany them when they buy groceries, especially dairy products. As for meat, I had become a vegetarian already before my reversion, as it suits me better. This was originally for the reason that I am not too partial to meat; being more the “tall, thin, ectomorphic vegetarian type” person, meat is sometimes a little too heavy for me – and another reason was that meat is so expensive. When I reverted, there was another good and convenient reason: the meat we buy is not from a special halaal butcher, but the supermarket in a 2% Muslim country! So when it comes to meat dishes at home, I stay away from them completely. Lentils have become my staple protein and they work very well for me; with pasta or rice – or even on their own with a sandwich or toast – they are delicious!
As difficult as it can get in the adjustment, I still feel so happy and fortunate that I have come onto this wonderful road of Islam. I would like to finish off by relating some funny incidents, as it really has been an adventure – sometimes with an ironic hilarity!
Take this for example – one day my dad wanted to buy a tub of ice-cream. Careful to ensure that it would be halaal (I LOVE ice-cream!) I asked that he buy the same brand as previously. Why? Because it had the halaal logo on it, and so neither him nor I could go wrong…
So, off he goes out to the shops. And guess what he came back with? The same brand of ice-cream – but probably the ONLY one without a halaal logo on – rum and raisin! Rum! I thought: “Oh, Daddy, why rum of all flavours???” Alarm bells rang in my head… rum = alcohol: DON’T eat it! I turned over the tub, and compared it to the old one. There was the kosher logo (Jews being allowed alcohol), but the place where the halaal one was on the other tub, was blank. I’d better not go for it, I thought. So…no ice-cream for me!
I don’t need to say, but that tub lasted a loooong time!! J
Then there was the time my mom made a delicious chocolate cake. She put yoghurt in the icing as usual, which makes it very nice. Just that this particular time the yoghurt was one of doubtful origin. One of the ingredients – gelatine! Was it made from pork or beef? No idea! I’d better stay away! So I avoided eating the cake until I was alone and could sneak into the kitchen and scrape off the icing on a piece…
Next time Mom made cake, I made sure that I could eat it, even down to asking her not to add vanilla essence (to her puzzlement)!
My mother had read of this clever idea to keep bar soaps from getting soggy, and began to use it. When I became a Muslim, it suddenly dawned on me that it was not such a good one… What was this idea? Beer bottle tops stuck under the soap. Beer lids! Haraam lids. What a reminder; every time I wash myself, I see “Hansa Pilsener” staring back at me! I don’t know whether to laugh or grimace!
Finally… one day, I was the butt of a little joke. I was walking in a shopping mall with my parents and my father walked into a liquor store to buy wine. As I did with the pork section in the supermarket, I kept a clear distance from the offending place! After purchasing the wine, Dad walked out to meet Mom and I who were waiting outside. Suddenly, Mom, in one of her mischievous twinkle-in-the-eye moments, offers for me to carry the wine, knowing that I am Muslim and not allowed alcohol. So I veer off, saying: “No Mom! Muslims and wine don’t go together!”
Just imagine the oxymoron: a hijabed woman, carrying wine! Not helpful to Da’wah, is it? J
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