Baaah...

Happy Tobaski! This morning we were woken up with the sound of goats, or more specifically rams, baaing as if there was no tomorrow. As a matter of fact, for these unfortunate creatures, there would indeed be no tomorrow. Today is a public holiday when families throughout the Muslim world ritually slaughter mostly sheep in ritual sacrifice. The occasion of Tobaski (in other parts of the world it is known as Tabaski or Eid Al Adha--or just Eid) and is the day when Muslims celebrate when God told Abraham not to sacrifice Ismail (Issac) but a sheep instead. A rather good compromise if I do say so myself. Today every married male is supposed to kill a sheep if he can afford one, if not, than a goat, and if not that, a chicken. Most people go for goats. What follows is essentially one nationwide massive barbecue and celebrations throughout the day. When sacrificing the animal a sharp knife is used and Allah's name is spoken. I have not witnessed it first hand, but that’s what people say happens. Before the goat is slaughtered, it is thoroughly washed, which is probably where the excessive baaing comes in. Goats either don’t like to be washed, or they are extremely intuitive animals that premonitorily freak out thinking of their inevitable and soon to happen fate of being slaughtered, skinned, disemboweled, and served as a main course.   After the animal is slaughtered, large portions of the meat is given to the needy so that nobody misses out on the celebrations to follow. The rest of the meat is given as gifts to friends and relatives and the rest is reserved for the family. Indeed, the idea of sharing (about 2/3 of the animal) is the essence of feast. Gambians wear their finest clothes and if possible, brand new. You are also expected to do a thorough spring cleaning throughout your house or compound. You are expected, sometime during the day, to visit your parents, other family members and friends. Goats waiting their gastronomic fate alongside the road. The build up to this day is enormous. These past weeks, we have seen more than the usual number of goats around, herded alongside the road, waiting to be bought (anywhere between 90$ to 120$, depending on how long you wait to buy your goat…the closer to Tobaski you wait to buy your goat, the cheaper the goat is). I guess there is nothing worse than getting stuck with a stock of unslaughtered goats with attitude prancing around until next Tobaski.   Tobaski is very much like Christmas for us Christians…people get new outfits made, clean house, buy lots of food you would not normally buy, and get indigestion.  People here also gather their coins to give out to children. We see a lot of Gambian kids asking for pocket money from family and neighbours which they use to buy ice cream and other goodies. Some came to our gate, but I quickly ran out of coins. I told the guards to chase the kids away, telling them that our house was inhabited by an old fart who ate children for lunch. It seemed to work. Unmarried women can also collect coins. I tried to convince Madeleine to go out there among the children and the slaughtered goats to see if she could make a bit of money. What? Someone’s going to have to pay off that mortgage! In any case, she didn’t go for the idea. She mumbled something obscene that I would not want to share in this blog. One reason why the holiday feels so joyous is because the harvest is done, people have money, the mosquitos have largely disappeared and it's not so hot during the day. It's hot. Just not as hot. No I take that back, it’s still very hot. Like, I-wish-there-was-a-snow-bank-somewhere-where-I-could-go-sit-in hot.  It’s afternoon now…and things are eerily quiet out there. No more baaing. RIP.