The Doyle Engaging Difference Program - Georgetown University

Before studying abroad, I had never really lived away from home. I grew up in the Maryland suburbs of Washington, DC, and attend college only a 30-minute drive away from my parents’ house. While I treasure the rich diversity of the nation’s capital, I knew I had to study abroad to see what world lies beyond the great DMV. Playing it safe, I chose Edinburgh because it is English-speaking, a small and therefore easy-to-navigate city, and seemed diverse enough to accommodate my racial and religious identities. I valued familiarity as I set out on my first solo expedition outside of the Mid-Atlantic.

My biggest fear, however safe I played my choice to study abroad, was how I would navigate being Muslim away from home. Coming from a tight-knit South Asian family, my religious identity has always been a source of community for me. At home, I am surrounded by a large Pakistani and Muslim enclave, with which I often engage for religious celebrations, sharing meals, and holidays. I found this same community at Georgetown—for example, the Yarrow Mamout masjid serves as a place for Muslim students to assemble, host events, and facilitate friendships. The sense of belonging I feel at home and school made me all the more nervous for leaving, especially considering Ramadan, Islam’s holy month of fasting, was to occur during the spring semester. I wondered how much I was sacrificing by leaving home during such an important time.

I arrived in Edinburgh in January, when the city’s population appeared slim and the biting cold temperatures amplified its dreariness. Nerves rolled within me. “It shouldn’t be that different from the United States,” I often repeated to myself, but I knew that I couldn’t escape feeling culture shock. The gothic architecture, the churches, the accents—everything was new to me and I was terrified.

Not only did I find many places where “my community” was, I also found that Edinburgh’s diverse communities interacted with each other. One evening during Ramadan, I decided to go on a walk to kill time before sunset. Deciding on a new route, I stumbled upon a church that was advertising an iftar it was hosting the following day, specifically mentioning that there would be halal food and a space to pray. I was awestruck by the sense of interreligious solidarity and dialogue as I had not seen anything like it in the United States. I saw this same sense of interreligious solidarity during protests advocating for Palestinian sovereignty and a permanent ceasefire between Israel and Hamas—Muslims and Christians of all races stood together on Princes Street and advocated for a Scottish political boycott of Israel. As religious, ethnic, and cultural differences pervade the city, Edinburgh is a place where people congregate because of those differences.

As March rolled around and I became comfortable with my grasp on the city and university life, it was time to experience Ramadan. My fears about meals were eased, as the dining hall provided take-home meals for fasting students. I would wake up every morning at 3:30 a.m., eat oatmeal and dates provided by the university, and hear other Muslim students in my building do the same. I attended classes as normal, stopping to pray at my dorm or at Edinburgh Central Mosque, as it is conveniently located right next to campus. One night, after iftar, or the meal eaten at sunset that breaks the fast, I walked around the city looking for ice cream with a friend. We stumbled upon a local ice cream store filled with Muslim youth, dressed in religious clothing after attending the nightly prayers at the mosque. I felt a sharp pang in my chest reminding me of my community at home. As I stood with my friend in line and explained to her the traditions of outings my friends and I would go on after iftar, I realized I found community and comfort in Edinburgh, on my own: I was standing in an ice cream shop 3,000 miles away from home and participating in the same tradition, just with new people! Ramadan was therefore a rewarding challenge, in which I started the month navigating my religious life on my own, and ended the month finding joy and community among fellow Muslims at the mosque and in the surrounding community.

Scotland embraced me with open arms. While Muslims only comprise 1% of the Scottish population, I learned how much 1% really is. I found community with people that shared my religious and cultural identities, while also becoming close friends with people of other backgrounds. Living in the multicultural, multireligious city of Edinburgh, I learned that if I seek community, then I will find it, and it may be in places I never imagined.