Dear Diary:
Despite growing up in the New York City area and studying Middle East politics and culture for four years throughout college, I failed to realize why there were so few taxis picking up passengers from La Guardia Airport on a recent Sunday night.
Shamefully I became aware only when, after an hour of waiting in line and finally stepping into a taxi, the driver told me that tonight was Eid, the culmination of the month of Ramadan, or “our Christmas,†as he put it.
Of course! The Muslim population of New York would be celebrating the end of Ramadan this evening. But not my driver, who despite being Muslim and working an already grueling schedule, had resolved that he could not afford to enjoy the holiday with his family this year. A native of Afghanistan who came to New York in 1981, he has driven a taxi since 1986 (before I was even born). His 5 children and 22 grandchildren are spread between K andahar and Flushing. And he spent his holiday with me.
So we chatted and I told him I had just returned from visiting my own grandparents in Florida. After our ride I wished him “Eid Mubarak,†which elicited a surprised smile, and he bid me good night, as he drove on to find his next passenger with whom he would celebrate.
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