How Do Muslims Fast for Ramadan if There's No Sunset?

iStock.com/ozgurdonmaz
iStock.com/ozgurdonmaz

Earlier this month, many Muslims all over the world began their observance of Ramadan, the month of daily fasting that serves to train believers' spiritual and physical discipline and self-control. Between dawn and sunset, observers refrain from all food and drink, as well as other physical pleasures like cigarettes and sex.

In some parts of the world, however, this is easier said than done. Some areas have exceptionally long days during the summer. Scandinavia, Canada, Russia, and Alaska all have cities above the Arctic Circle, where the sun literally does not set for weeks at a time. Since Ramadan is tied to the lunar calendar and moves annually, these places will have the opposite problem during winter Ramadans where the sun won't rise for more than a month.

What's a Muslim in Longyearbyen, Norway or Barrow, Alaska supposed to do when there's no sunrise or sunset to guide their fasting? Starve? Fly south for Ramadan?

With no central authority or leadership like the Roman Catholic Pope to give guidance, different Muslim scholars and organizations have to come up with their own ways of dealing with the problem, and many seem to have convened on one solution: ignore the sun's local position and follow more reasonable sunrise and sunset times from another place.

The Islamic Center of Northern Norway, for example, issued a fatwa—a decision given by a scholar of Islamic law or other Muslim judicial authority—that gives local Muslims the option of following the fasting hours of the holy city of Mecca when the local fasting day exceeds 20 hours. The Assembly of Muslim Jurists of America made a similar ruling that said that Muslims living at extreme northern points of Alaska use the sunrise and sunset times of another part of the country where "day is distinguishable from night." The Council of Senior Scholars in Saudi Arabia likewise decided that Muslims "in a land in which the sun does not set during the summer and does not rise during the winter" should set their fasting times based on "the dawn and sunset each day in the closest country in which night can be distinguished from day."

One Muslim has gone even further afield from the religion's Arabian homeland than some snowy arctic village. In 2007, Malaysian astronaut Sheikh Muszaphar Shukor had to figure out how to fast for Ramadan while orbiting the Earth every 90 minutes and going through 16 day/night cycles every 24 hours. To advise in his fasting and daily prayers, Malaysia's Department of Islamic Development and its National Fatwa Council put their best minds together and came out with a booklet called "Guidelines for Performing Islamic Rites at the International Space Station." Shukor was given the option to defer his fasting until his return to Earth or follow the sunrise and sunset times of Baikonur, Kazakhstan, where Shukor was launched into space.

This story was republished in 2019.

Is There An International Standard Governing Scientific Naming Conventions?

iStock/Grafissimo
iStock/Grafissimo

Jelle Zijlstra:

There are lots of different systems of scientific names with different conventions or rules governing them: chemicals, genes, stars, archeological cultures, and so on. But the one I'm familiar with is the naming system for animals.

The modern naming system for animals derives from the works of the 18th-century Swedish naturalist Carl von Linné (Latinized to Carolus Linnaeus). Linnaeus introduced the system of binominal nomenclature, where animals have names composed of two parts, like Homo sapiens. Linnaeus wrote in Latin and most his names were of Latin origin, although a few were derived from Greek, like Rhinoceros for rhinos, or from other languages, like Sus babyrussa for the babirusa (from Malay).

Other people also started using Linnaeus's system, and a system of rules was developed and eventually codified into what is now called the International Code of Zoological Nomenclature (ICZN). In this case, therefore, there is indeed an international standard governing naming conventions. However, it does not put very strict requirements on the derivation of names: they are merely required to be in the Latin alphabet.

In practice a lot of well-known scientific names are derived from Greek. This is especially true for genus names: Tyrannosaurus, Macropus (kangaroos), Drosophila (fruit flies), Caenorhabditis (nematode worms), Peromyscus (deermice), and so on. Species names are more likely to be derived from Latin (e.g., T. rex, C. elegans, P. maniculatus, but Drosophila melanogaster is Greek again).

One interesting pattern I've noticed in mammals is that even when Linnaeus named the first genus in a group by a Latin name, usually most later names for related genera use Greek roots instead. For example, Linnaeus gave the name Mus to mice, and that is still the genus name for the house mouse, but most related genera use compounds of the Greek-derived root -mys (from μῦς), which also means "mouse." Similarly, bats for Linnaeus were Vespertilio, but there are many more compounds of the Greek root -nycteris (νυκτερίς); pigs are Sus, but compounds usually use Greek -choerus (χοῖρος) or -hys/-hyus (ὗς); weasels are Mustela but compounds usually use -gale or -galea (γαλέη); horses are Equus but compounds use -hippus (ἵππος).

This post originally appeared on Quora. Click here to view.

Can Soap Get Dirty?

iStock/vintagerobot
iStock/vintagerobot

When you see lovely little bars of lemon-thyme or lavender hand soaps on the rim of a sink, you know they are there to make you feel as fresh as a gardenia-scented daisy. We all know washing our hands is important, but, like washcloths and towels, can the bars of hand soap we use to clean ourselves become dirty as well?

Soaps are simply mixtures of sodium or potassium salts derived from fatty acids and alkali solutions during a process called saponification. Each soap molecule is made of a long, non-polar, hydrophobic (repelled by water) hydrocarbon chain (the "tail") capped by a polar, hydrophilic (water-soluble) "salt" head. Because soap molecules have both polar and non-polar properties, they're great emulsifiers, which means they can disperse one liquid into another.

When you wash your dirty hands with soap and water, the tails of the soap molecules are repelled by water and attracted to oils, which attract dirt. The tails cluster together and form structures called micelles, trapping the dirt and oils. The micelles are negatively charged and soluble in water, so they repel each other and remain dispersed in water—and can easily be washed away.

So, yes, soap does indeed get dirty. That's sort of how it gets your hands clean: by latching onto grease, dirt and oil more strongly than your skin does. Of course, when you're using soap, you're washing all those loose, dirt-trapping, dirty soap molecules away, but a bar of soap sitting on the bathroom counter or liquid soap in a bottle can also be contaminated with microorganisms.

This doesn't seem to be much of a problem, though. In the few studies that have been done on the matter, test subjects were given bars of soap laden with E. coli and other bacteria and instructed to wash up. None of the studies found any evidence of bacteria transfer from the soap to the subjects' hands. (It should be noted that two of these studies were conducted by Procter & Gamble and the Dial Corp., though no contradictory evidence has been found.)

Dirty soap can't clean itself, though. A contaminated bar of soap gets cleaned via the same mechanical action that helps clean you up when you wash your hands: good ol' fashioned scrubbing. The friction from rubbing your hands against the soap, as well as the flushing action of running water, removes any harmful microorganisms from both your hands and the soap and sends them down the drain.

This story was updated in 2019.

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