Petty Officer 3rd Class Ali Ansari is observing the Muslim holy month of Ramadan at Naval Air Station Whidbey Island, fasting sometimes 18 hours a day. On the base of more than 7,770 military personnel, Ansari knows of just two other Muslims.
OAK HARBOR — Petty Officer 3rd Class Ali Ansari, 21, wakes up at 3 a.m. to eat in his barracks at Naval Air Station Whidbey Island, finishes by 3:30, and falls back asleep until it’s time to get up for work two hours later.
It will be 18 hours before he eats again or even has a sip of water. During the holy month of Ramadan, Muslims in all walks of life fast from dawn to sunset as part of the five pillars of Islam: faith, prayer, charity, fasting and a pilgrimage to Mecca.
“As long as the five pillars are met, there is nothing more that I need,” Ansari said.
On the base of over 7,770 military personnel, Ansari knows of just two other Muslims. He was the only Muslim at boot camp last year. Chaplains helped to accommodate his religious dietary needs by getting him extra portions of eggs and fish for protein.
Operating under special circumstances doesn’t seem to bother him, though.
He recalls when he took the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery, or ASVAB test, and scored a 97 out of 99. Marks that high meant he could go anywhere. He said his father supported him and gave him this advice: “Do you want to improve the Muslims’ image throughout the world? Join the Navy.”
“I’m proud of being an American, and I’m proud of being a Muslim,” Ansari said.
He was raised in Karachi, Pakistan, and his family immigrated to Chicago when he was a teenager. “We came here for a better life,” he said.
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They lived close to Devon Avenue on Chicago’s North Side, an area known for its vibrant South Asian immigrant community. He graduated from his high school’s International Baccalaureate program, and got his associate degree in nursing before joining the Navy last year.
Another asset is that Ansari speaks four languages: his native Urdu (which is derived from Arabic, Sanskrit and Hindi), along with English, Punjabi and Spanish.
“Muslims are masters of multiple languages,” he says with a smile.
He works as a personnel specialist in one of the Navy’s largest squadrons, with duties similar to human-resources professionals.
On Fridays, when he attends services at the Muslim Association of Puget Sound mosque in Redmond, sometimes he wears his uniform, which tends to draw questions.
“The biggest thing is: Do you fly planes? No, I do not fly planes.”
“A lot of Muslim people have misconceptions about the military,” he said. Many questions center on issues of practicing faith and religious tolerance.
Ansari said he has yet to encounter a conflict, and has found acceptance and support. “There has never been a time where someone has told me not to pray,” he said.
His superior, Chief Petty Officer Shawna Houser, helped him interpret the Navy’s instructions to carve out time on the schedule to attend prayers on Fridays. “They left it very broad,” she said.
“We have an intolerance for intolerance,” said Lt. Edwin Handley, a chaplain on the base who has helped facilitate Ansari’s practice of Islam. For example, Handley designated an office in the chapel for Ansari to use each day for his noon prayers.
The Navy chaplain corps represents over 100 different faith groups, Handley said. There’s no way to know everything about every religion.
“I’ve learned a great deal about Islam from PS3 Ansari,” said Handley, using shorthand for his title, personnel specialist, 3rd class.
Close to lunchtime is when Ansari starts to feel the weight of the fasting, and starts to yawn. “It’s difficult, but it’s not something that can’t be done,” Ansari reasons. “Since my father and grandfather have been doing it, maybe it’s genetic.”
Still, the long days of summer in the northern latitudes are grueling. “Especially the last few hours are very hard.”
After work, he gets ready to break the fast by cooking a big batch of chicken biryani in the modest kitchen of his barracks. It’s his mom’s recipe, and he calls her for advice. “Rice is everything,” he says, anxious he’ll screw it up.
As the sun sets, he packs it up and drives to Mount Vernon to share iftar, the fast-breaking meal, at the family home of friends he met in Skagit County’s small mosque.
Through the month of Ramadan, at 3 the next morning, he proudly does it all over again.