Tabaski!

"Tabaski special! 50 sheep to win!"

Yes, it is a sheep on the billboard. An African sheep apparently....

This Friday, Tabaski - the biggest religious holiday in Senegal, and for that matter the rest of the Islamic world - took place. In short, the Muslims celebrate and remember Ibrahim's unlimited devotion to God when he was ready to kill his own son to proof his faith. God was so kind as to replace the son with a sheep; hence sheep is the recurring theme.

This is a MAJOR event! During the last month it has been clear to me that something big was brewing, as the streets started to get crowded with herds of sheep and the tailors were working around the clock. But I had not imagined that this holiday could exceed the annual Christmas-fuzz that I know so well from Denmark. I was supposed to do field work last week, but we had to postpone it since people simply could not concentrate on anything else than 'la fête' as the big day approached. It could take me 2-3 hours to return from the office in the evening, because the entire population of Dakar is preparing, getting their hair done, grocery shopping, visiting their tailor, choosing their sheep etc. Everyone is on the move. The consumption taking place is excessive considering how modest most Senegalese are living normally. Normally, everybody returns to their villages to be with their (laaaaarge) family during those days. This means that Dakar is absolutely deserted over the weekend. Unfortunately I did not have the chance to experience this, since I was in out of town, but I saw images from Dakar on the news and I could hardly recognise the city. It is namely not only the Muslims that return to their families to celebrate, the remaining 5% of the population are often invited to join as well. A Muslim colleague of mine even invited me to celebrate Tabaski with her and her family in Thiès, a city inland a few hours from Dakar. That is exactly what the religious fraternity that I mentioned in my last post is about. They do not care if your God is called Allah or Buddha or is non-existing. All are welcome to participate in the holiday on their own premises. The Christians staying at home during Tabaski receive presents, visits and big amounts of meat from their Muslim neighbours and friends, to make sure that no one is hungry or lonely on Tabaski.

So, Thursday at 13.00 sharp (meaning at 14-14.30, when do I learn it?) me and my colleague left the office to find a '7-places' at the bus station that could take us to Thiès. A 7-places is a normal car with seats in the trunk as well, summing up to 7 seats. That seemed pretty comfortable to me compared to many of the other transportation possibilities you have here in Senegal. Unfortunately, none of the 7-places were destined for Thiès, so we had to take a 'car rapide' (see picture in earlier post). That was, put in a nice way, an authentic experience! Apparently, there is no limite to what you can fit into and onto such a vehicle. Suitcases and live sheep are tied to the roof of the small bus. The excessive exodus of the big cities caused complete chaos on the roads and our driver even had to descend the car several times to tell off the other drivers. After a long and exhausting trip I arrived at my destination, and was given a warm (literally) welcoming by mothers and fathers, uncles and aunts, cousins and children and random people (like me) who, for some reason, also are part of the family.

Friday morning I woke up very early from the sound of panicking sheep. I grabbed my camera and rushed to the entrance of the house. There I found five huge sheep waiting to be slaughtered. Before that the men had already been to the mosque for morning prayer. Now everybody was gathered for the ceremony of the slaughtering, children as well as adults. Each sheep belongs to someone in the family. The first 'kill' is the biggest sheep, of course belonging to the man of the house, the old Papa Aliou. Next came the sheep of the big brother, followed by the sheep of the sisters and old Mama Ndeye and so on and so forth. It was carnage, but I am proud to say that I stayed throughout the entire ceremony. It was after all reassuring to see how professional and painless the process was and within an hour all five sheep ready to eat.

Sheep before being slaughtered

Sheep after slaughtering

The women preparing the enormous amounts of meat:

When the meat is parted and ready the women start cooking, and this goes on for the rest of the day. The entire sheep is used, even the balls! They start by frying the insides, which is eaten with an onion sauce and mustard while preparing the rest of the meat. After hours of continuing cooking and eating, the huge lunch is ready and we can finally get something to eat... or wait, what did we do the whole day again?? The 'lunch-meat' is served on big shared plates with fries and onion sauce (they loooove onion) men, women and children eating separately:

After lunch we had a few hours of well-deserved rest to calm down the 'meat-sweats' and to get ready for the 'evening tour'. At sunset everybody dress up in what they call 'boubous', which is the traditionel Senegalese dresses worn at religious events, but often also on regular Fridays. For Tabaski everybody gets a new special boubou sown for the event. Even the children get tailor-made dresses! Me, I had borrowed a boubou from Cécile. It felt like being a little girl again, dressing up as a princess. It was absolutely amazing!

The rest of the night we spent visiting neighbours and friends of the family. People were incredibly welcoming, they all wanted to shake my hand and know where I came from, and share their Tabaski with me. Looking back at this unforgettable experience I can truly confirm that Senegal is the land of 'teranga' (hospitality)!

Lunch time in Dakar

The sad remainings (Catholics) of my usual 'lunch-club':

.....meanwhile in the streets of Dakar:

No need to say that 95% of the population is Muslim...

Around 13.30 the loud, crackling prayer begins, covering the city in a haze. Everybody descends to the streets with each their rug. We're in Africa so the exact time is not so important. I learned that the hard way. One day I was in a meeting a few blocks away and returned to the office at 13.15. I thought I could make it back in time, but that day they decided to start a bit early. I didn't realise until I was in the middle of the messing masses in my small summerdress trying to make my way through as discretely as possible. Talk about an awkward situation.

The last few weeks a group of Muslims have been manifesting the streets since their marabou has been imprisoned. The police found two disciples buried in his backyard, tortured and killed. Still, the followers of that marabou want the Government to set him free. Here each family have a marabou they follow and he is considered God to a lot of Muslims. Therefore, the marabou has the right to decide who should live and who should die. This meaning the marabou has committed no crime in ending the lives of these disciples. Luckily, it is only a small part of the Muslims who are that indoctrinated, and my Muslim friends and colleagues have generally be furious with this behaviour of their fellow Muslims. In Senegal there is space enough for all religions. They say they have a religious fraternity; something the rest of the world could learn from.

Senegalese cuisine

During my time here in Senegal I have been spoiled with many delicious fish dishes, but I had never actually seen where all the lovely fish came from until last week. I went to the local fish market where the fishermen return around 5 or 6pm with the daily load of fresh seafood in their colourful pirogues. Well, I guess the picture talk for themselves. Although I was completely ripped off (as a toubab I was charged 5 times as much as the locals...) it was great fun to be part of the vibrant crowd, and the six small, red fish i bought were tasty!

This weekend we celebrated the birthday of Cecile's youngest, Mary Jeanne. She turned 11. Here they don't give presents for birthdays, they give hair. So the big event of the day was a trip to the hairdresser with mummy. Later a big lunch was prepared and the house was packed with family members although it was just a small part of the huge family that was present for the birthday. We had 'poulet yassa', which is chicken with rice and a sauce based on onions and olives. Believe it or not, I ate some chicken! Let me put it this way, the aunt was quite insisting! Generally, people are quite concerned about 'la petite toubab' and her eating habits. If you have a skinny family member it means that your family is poor, so it is very important that I start working on my 'fondé' (= behind) apparently. So I really had to put it away. The sauce was also really delicious, but chicken is still not my friend... Below a picture of some of the family eating from a big, shared plate.

Otherwise, last week was quite busy at the office for me. ENDA had two messieurs from Risø (Denmark) visiting. They were here to perform a workshop and to gather information on the outcome of a big programme initiated in collaboration with, among others, ENDA. I had the pleasure of following the two colleagues of Gordon all week, participating in numerous interviews with small energy entrepreneurs, micro financing institutions, and specialists in renewable energy. I even had the opportunity to be the translator for the minister of energy in Senegal! It was a good and efficient way to get an insight into the methodology behind developmental programmes, and to get an understanding of how an NGO functions in real life. More of that, please!

Tourist for a day

This weekend I have been a real tourist for once. Gordon's colleague from Risø will spend the week with us here at ENDA doing research, and he had Sunday for sightseeing in Dakar, which was the perfect opportunity for me to do the same. The top-tourist attraction is a small island 5 km from the coast of Dakar, called Gorée. A small ferry shuttles back and forth picking up and droping off visitors. Just like at the beach last Sunday, the port was packed. Not only is Sunday generally the day for liesure among the Senegalese. Yesterday was also the day of a big swimming contest where children and teenagers cross the sea from the main-land all the way to the Gorée Island. Cécile's two sons also participated. It took us almost two hours to get on the ferry and to the island. But it was worth it! It was such a cute and charming landscape with green vegetation, small colourful houses and beautiful views. It makes it hard to believe that the island was originally used for shipping off masses slaves by the British, Portugese and of course the French. Today Gorée functions as a symbol of the injustice that took place for many descendants of slaves. However, many visitors just come to relax and enjoy the nice beaches, and the 1000 inhabitants live purely from tourism. For me it was very refreshing to get a break from dusty, chaotic Dakar for a while. It was lovely to be able to slender around the small streets and sit in the shade of a green tree with a cold beer. I found it reassuring to experience that Senegal is more than a noisy capital, and it actually made me appriciate Dakar more for what it has to offer. I will definately have make more of these trips to explore the different sites of this huge country.

Apart from this, I don't have much to report. Last week was predominantly spent in bed, since I managed to catch a mean flu. In 38 degrees heat with high fever it feels like you are dying, but somehow I survived and I am back in business! I hope I have seen the last of flus for now.