Tabaski

It’s been a while since my last post, and I have tons of stuff to share with you all. The last week has been really interesting and slightly draining. Last Monday the other Wisconsinites trooped back to Dakar, the capital city where I spent the first month, to celebrate the Muslim holiday Tabaski with our host families. We traveled via sept places, which for all of you French speakers out there is a taxi for seven people. Actually, it’s a fairly small station wagon that comfortably seats five, but manages to cram 8 (including the driver) inside. I got squished into the middle seat of the second row, which was pretty uncomfortable because I had nowhere to put my feet, and the women on either side of me usurped all available space. The other Americans got squished in the back row, which is also uncomfortable; I’m not sure which is worse actually. But, four hours later we arrived in Dakar at the ridiculously crazy bus depot, which is a bunch of other sept place vehicles, some buses, and lots of men chasing you trying to shove you in their taxi or carry your luggage for you against your will. It was quite entertaining, but I realized quickly that I wanted to be out of there asap.

Upon arriving at my host family, I rang the doorbell, and Nathalie came to let me. If you’ve been keeping track of my adventures here you would understand why I was slightly confused by her appearance at the gate. But I’ll remind you, my host brother Habib, Nathalie’s husband texted me a few weeks ago saying that things between them weren’t working anymore. I took that to mean they were splitting up, and since this is Habib’s mother’s home, Nathalie would be heading out. Not so much, the whole family was there, just as I left them. So I put on my game face like I knew nothing, and I kept it on the rest of the week. If you want more info on that story, we can plan a phone date sometime…

Moving on, I went in the back entrance of our house, and found 4 rams outside in the patio area, and my family about to sit down to eat. I was a little thrown off by the rams because I was expecting two, one for my host dad and one for Habib. Nathalie explained to me that they were the rams belonging to various other members of the family and one that my family bought for our maid I’m pretty sure and that there would actually be five because Habib had yet to purchase his ram. Needless to say, five goats were fairly noisy and messy, but nonetheless entertaining because Isaa liked to test the waters and see if the goats would bite him. Oh, and as a side note, I sometimes refer to them as rams (sheep) and sometimes as goats because they are actually sheep, but they look like goats. So yeah, I know that clears things up, but I’ll post some pictures so you can actually understand.

In general, it was really fun returning to my host family. I was kind of hesitant about going back there, just because I’m never sure how things work, and because one of the other girls called home and her host mom pretended that she didn’t remember who she was. My experience was very different, my whole family was there when I got home and they all remembered me. Sama yaye (wolof for my mom) gave me a hug/kiss because I am awkward and haven’t figured out Senegalese greetings yet, but she seemed legitimately happy to see me. Plus, later in the week, when I asked if I could stay until Sunday, she lectured me about how I’m her daughter and she doesn’t understand why I keep asking because it’s my house too. She was very sweet, and I felt much more comfortable the second time around.

I’m kind of skipping around, so I’ll get back to my time line. I arrived Monday afternoon, and I spent the rest of the day attempting to help with the preparations for the holiday. Basically, they let me chop potatoes for French fries, but it’s something so that was good. The next morning, the day of Tabaski, I woke up pretty early and put on my finest jeans and tee-shirt with hopes of helping around the house. I’m pretty sure the rest of the family besides Nathalie, Isaa, and the maid and I were at the mosque in the morning, so I spent a few hours watching some strange men washing each of the rams. Then, around 10, they started slaughtering the rams. Suddenly, my house was full of cousins and random family members I'd never seen before, as well of some very gory butchering. Unfortunately, my host mom wanted me to take pictures of all of the happenings, so I spent more time than I planned to watching them kill the goats. Hence, when they started serving food (goat meat and french fries) around noon, I didn't eat too much. It was quite and event, and once seemingly everyone in the neighborhood had eaten their fill and the women had cleaned up all of the mess from the goats, the party ended. People returned home around 3 in the afternoon. Nathalie told me all the women would be napping, because later in the evening they get dressed up and go visit friends and family. It's similar to what we did on the last Muslim holiday, but Nathalie, Habib, and Isaa and I went out and visited some of their relatives. I may have donned a fairly Senegalese outfit complete with a hair wrap that a tailor in Saint Louis made for me.

It was quite an interesting holiday, kind of like a strange version of thanksgiving. One of the most intriguing traditions, is that women bring the legs of their goats to various influential people in their lives, such as their parents, or whomever gave them away in their wedding. Consequently, I got to haul goat legs around Dakar for Nathalie because she was exhausted from all of the work she did that day. I'll fill you in on the rest of my week tomorrow, I have once again gotten sick. Part of my monthly routine here in Senegal, although this cold comes courtesy of Isaa, who got our entire family sick last week, poor kid.