Sheep, Sheep, and more Sheep

Good morning!

Just had my last class and now only a few exams until freedom. School was put on hold on Tuesday for the Muslim holiday, Tabaski. It involves sacrificing sheep in celebration of the prophet Muhammed (I think), followed by eating those sheep, and then dressing up in gorgeous dresses (called boubous here) and visiting all your friends and family. The morning of, I woke up to my sisters happily clammering all over the kitchen, preparing the day's feast. I went for a walk around the neighborhood and tried not to stare at all the men dressed to the nines in their boubous, lined up shoulder to shoulder praying at the local mosque. The mosque isn't quite big enough so men lined the sidewalks as well, trailed by their sons wearing matching boubous. Precious to say the least. By the time I started walking back, I ran into my Senegalese Dad who was walking back from the mosque, faster then I had ever seen. He smiles at me and says "Time to kill the sheep!". Walking into the house, 2 sheep are tied up in our courtyard, unaware of what is to come. The past few weeks the whole city has been covered with sheep, imported from different areas of Senegal and neighboring Mali as well. You could even send a text message to win a free sheep. Apparently, this is a great deal because one sheep can cost as much as 400 US dollars. Anyway, my brother is sharpening knives and a few neighbors show up to hold down the sheep. My Senegalese Dad calls himself the "assasin" and insists we be the "paparazzi", encouraging us (my roommate and I) to take pictures through the whole act. My younger siblings come running out, laughing. Within 10 minutes, we have a sheep hanging from our tree, in order to skin it more easily. An hour later, "breakfast" is ready: french fries, onion sauce, and some bbq sheep. I have to admit, it was not as bad as I thought. I did feel a little lightheaded thinking about what I was eating, but I got over that by last night when we had meal number 5 in a row of sheep and some carbohydrate (if it is not sheep and bread, it is sheep and pasta, or sheep and rice).

In fact, I did my laundry yesterday (day after Tabaski) in the same basin that my mother had used to sift through all the body parts of our sheep, choosing which to give to our neighbors and which parts to cook. Don't worry, I have pictures. Despite the holiday not being exactly what I am used to, it was nice to have all our neighbors come over wishing us good tidings and asking for pardons (I guess you ask for pardons for sins over the year? in the dark on this one) as well as watching my family dress up. The night of Tabaski, I went to a concert (it started at 2 am- nothing seems to start earlier in Senegal) where a few local Senegalese artists performed. Senegalese are fabulous dancers as a rule and it was fun night (rather, morning).

In the next week, I will be wrapping up my work, maybe seeing some Senegalese wrestling, having goodbye dinners, harassing my tailor to finish up a few skirts I am having made, and hanging out with my friends and family.

Then the morning of the 21st, at 3 am I fly back to the US of A (like I said, everything has to happen in the wee hours of the morning). But lets not get ahead of ourselves, I still have another week!

Love
Banana