So Tabaski has come and gone, and today we get one more day to chilax until back to school tomorrow (thank God!) It was quite an interesting day.
In the morning the men went to the mosque and the women stayed to clean. There was much cleaning. So after I stopped being lazy I got up and began to help with the cleaning. We cleaned EVERYTHING. The floor upstairs is really large. I mopped it and the stairs and the outside stairs which doesn't even make sense to me because they're outside and they get dirty again sooo fast. After that Madame Ndaw said I could take my shower and when I opened my door I noticed this outfit on the bed. I was like omg look at this outfit! It was just there, laying on the bed waiting for me. That was one of the best things ever. So I took a shower and put it on then had breakfast. As I was eating, near the back door, I noticed some commotion happening outside and I looked up and saw the goat standing on its hind legs. I was like, "oh snap, it's time!" And I freaked out and ran towards the front of the house. Then I heard the kids around the house yelling and I started yelling a little. The backdoor opened and it was Yankhoba, restraining the dog on a leash. That's why there were scared. Turns out they aren't really scared of the killing of the goat. They see it every year but I couldn't watch the actually killing. I peeked outside from the living room and could see that there was blood every where. My little sister Aida was just watching them on the couch like it was a tv show. I tried to go sit in my room but eventually little Mohammad came and pulled me outside. That little boy is sooo bad.
Madame Ndaw and the girls were cutting up vegetables on one side of the back outside area while the goat was being skinned on the other. I didn't think it was right but I sat down to help make the seasoning, then cut up some cucumbers and potatoes. I couldn't help but think how delicious it was going to taste when it was all done. I tried not to look while they skinned and cut up the poor animal, except to take a few pictures...
First around 12 we had a snack of smoked ribs and fries. Really delicious I have to admit. I had a bit of liver too and I have to say I've never eaten liver before because I didn't want to, but I find myself doing so many new things here, and I liked it.
Around 2 or 3 we had lunch, goat with fries, onion sauce and bread. The first part of the day is all for family. After 5, you put on your very expensive tailor made Tabaski outfit and visit friends. One of my good friends here came to see me and I went with him to visit his aunt, then we went to the Kanes residence and finally to his house where we spent the rest of the evening.
It was overall a good day. Check out the pictures on the next post!
Monday, November 30, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
Tabaski Preparation
Today the streets will run red with the blood of hundreds of goats who will be slaughtered as a symbol of Abraham's sacrifice. Yes, the bleating of goats was heard all yesterday and it will be heard all morning, but all at once, in one moment it will stop. And we will eat...
It's Tabaski time!!!!!!
Tabaski is the holiday that celebrates Abraham's commitment to God by his willingness to sacrifice his son, Isaac. (Some say it was his son Ishmael). Just as he was about to finish the deed, God stopped him and he saw a ram caught in the bushes so sacrificed that instead. It's a very big deal here. There is much feasting and people will be dressed in fantastic wonderful clothing. Now I couldn't afford the expensive material and the tailor so my outfit will not look quite like that.
I did however, find myself caught up in the materialism/commercialism that overshadows all holidays, no matter how pure they start. Tabaski is two days after Thanksgiving, and coincidently though I wasn't in America, I still had a "black Friday." We went en ville (downtown) to go shopping for shoes and for the life of me I could not find the perfect pair. Well, I did but I wasn't willing to pay 10,000 CFA for them. My budget was 3,000 CFA so you can see the 7,000 CFA difference. It was so sad. We went en ville, somewhere else and somewhere else and I just could not find the shoes at a price I wanted so I went home upset and angry because my outfit is not going to be fly with the perfect golden shoes and my outfit is not grand and excessive.
Now why should I care so much about a holiday I've never even heard of much less celebrated before I came here three months ago (it seems so long)??? Because universally, Christian or Muslim or whatever, I like to look fly and I don't know many people who don't. And when in Rome do what the Romans do.
But I suppose I can appreciate the religious value of Tabaski. I mean I do believe in Abraham and that he almost sacrificed his son--Isaac--for God. Actually made me wonder why Christians don't celebrate Tabaski. Well, it's probably best we don't, because I already have to worry about finding the perfect outfit for Easter, I don't need another holiday to do that to me when I go back to the states. :)
It's Tabaski time!!!!!!
Tabaski is the holiday that celebrates Abraham's commitment to God by his willingness to sacrifice his son, Isaac. (Some say it was his son Ishmael). Just as he was about to finish the deed, God stopped him and he saw a ram caught in the bushes so sacrificed that instead. It's a very big deal here. There is much feasting and people will be dressed in fantastic wonderful clothing. Now I couldn't afford the expensive material and the tailor so my outfit will not look quite like that.
I did however, find myself caught up in the materialism/commercialism that overshadows all holidays, no matter how pure they start. Tabaski is two days after Thanksgiving, and coincidently though I wasn't in America, I still had a "black Friday." We went en ville (downtown) to go shopping for shoes and for the life of me I could not find the perfect pair. Well, I did but I wasn't willing to pay 10,000 CFA for them. My budget was 3,000 CFA so you can see the 7,000 CFA difference. It was so sad. We went en ville, somewhere else and somewhere else and I just could not find the shoes at a price I wanted so I went home upset and angry because my outfit is not going to be fly with the perfect golden shoes and my outfit is not grand and excessive.
Now why should I care so much about a holiday I've never even heard of much less celebrated before I came here three months ago (it seems so long)??? Because universally, Christian or Muslim or whatever, I like to look fly and I don't know many people who don't. And when in Rome do what the Romans do.
But I suppose I can appreciate the religious value of Tabaski. I mean I do believe in Abraham and that he almost sacrificed his son--Isaac--for God. Actually made me wonder why Christians don't celebrate Tabaski. Well, it's probably best we don't, because I already have to worry about finding the perfect outfit for Easter, I don't need another holiday to do that to me when I go back to the states. :)
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
To Be Senegalese
Just as any little sister would want to tag along with her big brother, I find myself wanting to tag along with my host brother Yankhoba. My host brother Yan, has been a true brother to me and I'm very grateful for our brother-sister closeness. Though he usually doesn't invite me to come along with him to his friend's house, on this particular day he did. I think he felt sorry for me because it was a Friday night and I had nothing to do but sleep.
We went over to his friend's house and found him in the midst of making tea, a Senegalese tradition that usually involves drinking up to three small glasses of very strong tea which progressively get weaker and easier to drink. It's very good for keeping you awake.
As he made more tea, more and more of their friends arrived along with them entered a roach--cafard in Wolof. For anyone who knows me, you know of my deep rooted fear in roaches. I can't stand them and I usually let out a high pitched scream when I see one. You will be happy to know that I did not do so this time. I did however show enough discomfort for them to laugh at me and promptly kill the roach.
Another roach crept into the room and another and each were killed but at the last I received a shake of the head. "You are not Senegalese," I was told. "A Senegalese woman would not be afraid of a cafard."
It's a phrase said with a negative condemining feel to it that I truly do not appreciate. I was told again a few days later that in order to be Senegalese, I must speak to everyone when I enter a room or a place no matter what. Sometimes I forget to say hello to everyone after a hard day at work but this is something that I must do in order to be Senegalese. And I certainly can't be quiet.
There is a common theme I've experienced here in Senegal and that is that I must be here to learn how to be Senegalese. Now I do not recall mentioning that I ever wanted to be Senegalese. I'm American, I understand that I'm American and that there are certain things I will not be able to do such as get over my fear of roaches. It's just not going to happen.
I'm sure that somewhere there is a Senegalese woman who truly doesn't like roaches and wants to scream when she sees one but doesn't because she knows that is not Senegalese. And there has to be someone in this country that doesn't like talking to people all of the time. But I suppose the difference between those people and me is that they can hide those things while I cannot hide who I am.
It's not that I don't want to be Senegalese, it's that I understand that I am not and it is not possible for me to be at this time. So why this constant pressure to do things and be things Senegalese?
I think that they know that there is somewhere in those that come here a desire to connect with Senegal and her people and this is they way they try to express that belief. But it is not wanting to be African that I desire. It's a connection to Africa and an accpetance of who I am. And that I suppose, is what I am still searching for.
We went over to his friend's house and found him in the midst of making tea, a Senegalese tradition that usually involves drinking up to three small glasses of very strong tea which progressively get weaker and easier to drink. It's very good for keeping you awake.
As he made more tea, more and more of their friends arrived along with them entered a roach--cafard in Wolof. For anyone who knows me, you know of my deep rooted fear in roaches. I can't stand them and I usually let out a high pitched scream when I see one. You will be happy to know that I did not do so this time. I did however show enough discomfort for them to laugh at me and promptly kill the roach.
Another roach crept into the room and another and each were killed but at the last I received a shake of the head. "You are not Senegalese," I was told. "A Senegalese woman would not be afraid of a cafard."
It's a phrase said with a negative condemining feel to it that I truly do not appreciate. I was told again a few days later that in order to be Senegalese, I must speak to everyone when I enter a room or a place no matter what. Sometimes I forget to say hello to everyone after a hard day at work but this is something that I must do in order to be Senegalese. And I certainly can't be quiet.
There is a common theme I've experienced here in Senegal and that is that I must be here to learn how to be Senegalese. Now I do not recall mentioning that I ever wanted to be Senegalese. I'm American, I understand that I'm American and that there are certain things I will not be able to do such as get over my fear of roaches. It's just not going to happen.
I'm sure that somewhere there is a Senegalese woman who truly doesn't like roaches and wants to scream when she sees one but doesn't because she knows that is not Senegalese. And there has to be someone in this country that doesn't like talking to people all of the time. But I suppose the difference between those people and me is that they can hide those things while I cannot hide who I am.
It's not that I don't want to be Senegalese, it's that I understand that I am not and it is not possible for me to be at this time. So why this constant pressure to do things and be things Senegalese?
I think that they know that there is somewhere in those that come here a desire to connect with Senegal and her people and this is they way they try to express that belief. But it is not wanting to be African that I desire. It's a connection to Africa and an accpetance of who I am. And that I suppose, is what I am still searching for.
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