Roy Hoffmann
MOBILE - In south Alabama, as in their native Turkey, Ümit and Gülcan Gunebir observe Ramadan with prayer and fasting.
During each of the 30 days of the religious observance — this year, Aug. 1 – Aug. 30 — the couple rise before dawn in their west Mobile home, eat breakfast, then do not let food or drink pass their lips until sundown.
“The fast,” says Ümit Gunebir, “reminds us of those without food, without water.”
Neither eating nor drinking, he says, teaches “I can manage my feelings, my character. I can educate my character.
“We are doing this,” he says, “for the sake of Allah. We are closer to God in fasting.”
For the past six years, Gunebir, 32, has lived in Mobile, working as executive director of Peace Valley Foundation, a Turkish-based nonprofit with the stated mission to foster cultural and educational ties between the U.S. and Turkey.
Gunebir’s territory is Alabama, and he has led area civic leaders on several educational exchange trips to Turkey.
He married two years ago and brought his wife, Gulcan, from Istanbul back to Mobile.
Gülcan Gunebir (pronounced Gool-jahn), 28, is a physicist.
She is also, in the tradition of her mother, as she explains it, a knowledgeable cook.
As the long day of fasting wears on, “God is helping me,” says Ümit Gunebir, “I don’t feel hungry until dusk.”
His wife spends the later part of the day preparing foods for the end of fast.
Shish kebab, stuffed grape leaves, dates and walnuts — she readies the meal. But it is not time to eat yet.
Ramadan, says Ümit Gunebir, represents the time that God revealed the Koran to the prophet Muhammed.
A portion of the Koran is read each day.
Over the course of the month, Muslims read aloud the entirety of the sacred text.
As dusk approaches, Gunebir says that he arrived in the U.S. with many preconceptions of the American people, most from watching American films. Some of those films, he says, were violent.
But he has met, he says, many peace-loving people.
As part of his work, he travels through the South, his wife with him when her schedule permits.
So far, he says, they have been pleased by the “large hearts” and “open minds” of many people they have met.
The foods they eat must be “halal” — prepared by Muslim dietary law.
In Atlanta, the couple stop into Middle East stores to buy foods and spices they enjoy, though they find ever more outlets for those items along the Gulf Coast.
For example, they say, Sam’s Club has a selection of foods that are halal.
Ümit Gunebir says that the stereotypes of all Muslims as violent are erroneous.
When asked about “Muslim Terrorists,” he shakes his head.
The two words do not belong together, he says.
“The Koran says that killing one person is akin to killing all humanity.
“It is prohibited.”
He ascribes to a humanitarian philosophy, he says, promoted by the Turkish philosopher Fethullah Gülen.
In Mobile and other parts of the state, he says, he is involved in interfaith relations.
For example, he is a participant in Spring Hill College’s Trialogue, which brings together Christians, Jews, and Muslims for reflective interchange.
While traditional in their religious observance, the Gunebirs are modern in other ways.
To watch Turkish television, they turn on their computer.
When called to prayer five times daily — kneeling on ornately decorated mats — they face Mecca, as all Muslims do. But the couple use a compass device in their iPhone to determine the direction.
With sundown comes the time for breaking the fast — known as “Iftar.”
The couple, with guests at their table, sit and pray silently.
They begin, Ümit Gunebir says, by reciting “In the name of Allah, the most merciful and the most compassionate.”
After prayers, it is time to eat.
First comes lentil soup, then chicken shish kebab and rice pilaf.
Next Turkish meatballs, called kofte. Melon and nuts — the meal continues.
With 1.5 billion Muslims throughout the world, Iftar meals vary according to country.
The Gunebir table is filled with Turkish dishes and flavors.
The stuffed grape leaves are spicy; one condiment, called Turkish delight, is spongy and sweet.
Near 9 p.m., Ümit Gunebir glances at the clock — time for another supplication.
The couple excuse themselves from their guests and go to a room where they kneel and pray.
Then they are back at the table, passing around almond cakes, finishing the evening with hot Turkish tea.
Published on Press-Register Living, 20 August 2011, Saturday