Washington Report on Middle East Affairs, December 2006, pages 11-12

Gaza on the Ground

Let Them Eat Cake

By Mohammed Omer

“I DECIDED TO MAKE this year’s Eid cake at night rather than during the day,” 46-year-old Umm Mahmoud Al Debi, of Gaza’s Buriej Camp, said quietly, glancing around nervously. “Our relatives all came to help out, but we made the cake at night and went to a bakery so our neighbors wouldn’t smell it baking. We didn’t want to hurt the feelings of those without money who can’t afford to make the Eid cake this year,” she explained solemnly, sounding conflicted and somewhat remorseful over carrying on the tradition when so many cannot. This year, Al Debi was the only woman in her neighborhood who could afford to make an Eid cake.

At about 200 NIS (about $50), the cost of a traditional Eid celebration exceeds the resources of most families in Gaza this year. This is especially true of the more than 160,000 government workers who, with their families, constitute over a quarter of the Palestinian population. Thus the fact that they have not been paid for months has had a ripple effect throughout the entire economy.

Imagine being a parent as Christmas approaches, yet you haven’t been paid in eight months. There is no food, only intermittent water and electricity, and yet your children still expect stockings filled, Christmas dinner and presents under the tree. In terms of celebration, anticipation and importance, Eid is like Christmas for Muslims (who, while they recognize Jesus as a prophet, do not celebrate Christmas). And for children, it is the most anticipated time of the year.

Marking the end of the month-long Ramadan fast, Eid al Fitr is celebrated over several days of feasting, gift exchanges, parties and other festivities. During happier times, as families gathered for Eid, the women repaired to the kitchen to create the traditional Eid cake. Whether it takes the form of cupcake-style personal servings or one or more large cakes, it is more than just a sweet treat. With each family attempting to outbake its neighbors and produce the most delicious and delectable cake in town, the Eid cake is a source of family pride. The eager judges include men, women and children, all of whom compare notes before deciding on the year’s best cake. Mothers lovingly pass their secrets on to their daughters, who hold on to them despite the fact that every year the results disappear into happy mouths and expanding tummies.

Each region has its own traditions and recipes for the Eid cake. In Palestine, Egypt, Lebanon, Syria and Jordan the sweet cake is called Kae’ek El Eid. In the Gulf States, it is known as Mamoul El Eid. Each region’s cakes also display a remarkable variety in taste and appearance. There is no specific recipe for an Eid cake, the basic ingredients of which are flour, sesame, semolina and oil, in addition to sweet spices. Once the batter is made, it is stuffed with pressed dates before being formed into different shapes and sizes. For the more affluent, Eid cakes are like works of art. Pressed figs give way to elaborate fillings of nuts, fruits, gels and pastry fashioned into ornate designs.

Each cake takes a full day to prepare, and many women work together to create their family’s masterpiece. During Eid, the air in Gaza is suffused with evidence of this favorite tradition, as the tantalizing  aromas invade every corner, alley and street. In normal times, a man walking down any street can nearly taste the cake with each breath, its invitation almost irresistible and the anticipated satisfaction affecting everyone’s mood.

This Eid, however, normal hardly described Gaza. There was no smell of cakes baking in kitchens, although many found creative alternatives. Those who had some money made additional cakes to share with others. The slices may be smaller, but the thought of a young child crying, “I want Eid cake,” and having none would be too much to bear. With the other neighborhood women, Al Debi helped distribute slices of the surreptitiously baked cakes, the smaller slices belying the generous heart of their creator.

“I don’t want people to feel there is a difference between me and them,” Al Debi stated emphatically. “We should all be in solidarity, support each other, taste and celebrate with the children. People should not be deprived of tasting this year’s Eid cake simply because they are poor.”

Some women took out loans in order to carry on the Eid tradition. Explained Umm Ramez Al Ghola, 49, “I want my children to experience the happiness of Eid. I used to make 600 cakes each year. This Eid I’m only able to make 200, and I had to borrow the money and use lower quality ingredients than I usually do.”

Palestinian Authority employee Abu Hussein also borrowed money to provide his family with a happy Eid. As he shopped for ingredients for his wife, he explained his situation.

“I’m overwhelmed by debts,” he said in frustration. “At this point, what will it hurt to increase that debt if it means we can celebrate Eid and enjoy the smell of the Eid cake throughout our home until it removes us from this plight.”

For 120 NIS ($35) Abu Hussein was able to buy the ingredients to make about 600 tiny cakes. Had he purchased them from a bakery ready-made, they would have cost him three times as much.

Despite Israel and the international community’s ongoing collective punishment of the Palestinians for having democratically elected a government the occupying power dislikes, Gazans continue to strive toward some semblance of normalcy. Sometimes normal means the sweet aroma of cake wafting in a fall breeze. Sometimes hope is a piece of cake.—M.O.

Mohammed Omer, winner of the Best Youth Voice category for the First National Ethnic Media Awards, reports from the Gaza Strip, where he maintains the Web site <http://www.rafahtoday.org>. He can be reached at < This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it >.

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