Yesterday we went to the beach (baadaa). It was so beautiful and tropical, a really nice break. Sam, Adam, Pape and I sat in a shaded beach hut and ordered frozen bissap juice. It was ice cold and sharply satisfying. The day was amazing and being under the warm salty water was therapeutic.
Despite all the dead fish floating in the sea next to us and the pack of diseased wild dogs on the shore, it was the best day ever! I hope to go every Sunday for the next couple months.
October 23rd
The second baptism (kuulio) was in many ways the same as the first. A lot of people sitting around for hours then a delicious spicy goat dish for late afternoon lunch. This one was different though, because around 4pm, as the air was starting to cool off, all the men left the party.
Sam and I realized we were the only ones left outside (playing 20 questions in front of the compound). We walked inside and came upon a circle of about 50 women chanting and singing with a few playing drums. We joined the circle and felt like we were witnessing a secret women's club. They would take turns shaking it in the middle of the circle and the older women were definitely the craziest dancers. As the sun started to set we crammed in a taxi and headed back home to Mbour.
This Friday marks the start of Tabaski, the second biggest Senegalese/Muslim holiday behing Ramadan. Tabaski is the the celebration of when Abraham was told by God/Allah to sacrifice his son Ishmael, but right before he killed his son God allowed him to sacrifice a ram instead. Tabaski is a celebration of God's mercy, and everyone that can afford to will sacrifice a ram on Friday morning. What ensues is supposed to be a week-long bbq where everyone's homes are open to the public and everyone walks around the community sharing food and conversation. I'm excited and a little scared!
October 26th
It is 11:15am on Tabaski morning and a lot has happened. I woke up with a full bladder at 3am and made my way outside to the hole in the ground that is our "Turkish Toilet". When I groggily exited the bathroom, our sacrifice ram was waiting for me outside the door, looking ready to charge, somehow not tied to the fence it was the night before.
I freaked for a brief second then remembered my flashlight and strobe-lighted the ram while I dashed inside and safely back to bed.
Next time I saw the ram my host father was slitting its throat. I watched the sacrifice bu did not stay for most of the dismemberment. The blood was bright red like a can of coca-cola. My father is a Marabout, or religious leader in the community, so he was in charge of slaughtering all the rams in the compounds nearest to us.
The air is thick with excitement just like on Christmas. Everyone is all smiles and laughter and dressed in their nicest clothing. My little brother Baseko gnaws on a baguette while he watches the sacrifice with intent like it was a good movie.
I was invited to help in the kitchen for the first time, which was exciting. I peeled onions until I cried. My nieghbor stuck a piece of onion on the center of my forehead to stop my eyes from watering; I don't think it helped. I also ground giant black peppercorn in a huge wooden bowl.
While the women sat around a large bowl peeling veggies, my dad and brothers Abdou and Bainsa walked in with most of the skinned ram, including the skull.
Everyone giggled and I shielded my eyes from the head of the ram that was staring at me, Silly Toubab. Toubab is the Senegalese word for "white person" or foreigner. Kids, parents, and everyone in between calls to us with this name. It is usually just out of curiosity and not meant to be derogatory, but it can get old. It is interesting how if a Senegalese person was visiting the US, it would be outrageous for people to point and yell at them "Black person! Foreigner!", but here is a natural and accepted. There is no concept of political correctness and simply pointing out what someone is is not considered offensive.
If we get annoyed when packs of kids yell Toubab! at us, we have been told to yell Mo
Fing back at them, which means little black boy in Wolof. Sam and I think Mo Fing sounds like a rappers name and have decided if we ever start a hip-hop group, we will be called Mo Fing!
I really did think Tabaski lunch was good, although I gagged a couple times because the sheep was so chewy and I was eating with my hand instead of a spoon for the first time. Lunch was pot-roasted sheep with pasta and a thick onion marinade. Imagine eating that with only your right hand...
The strong smell of dead sheep is everywhere and I cannot escape it. It reminds me of when I was in New Orleans for Mardi Gras and Tulane had a huge crawfish broil. The stench of crawfish thickly permeated everywhere around campus and there were thousands of crawfish in the street. That is what is is like here but with the smell of old sheep meat.
As the evening came to a close, I sat outside the compound with my brothers and sisters eating my #1 fav treat - frozen bissap juice from the corner of a plastic bag (nature's candy)! It cost 25 CFA which is about 5 cents.
Tomorrow is our site placement reveal! I am so excited to find out where my permanent site will be. After we find out we will get to visit a volunteer in our region. I will make sure to take photos and update you when I return! We still have another month of training split between the center and our CBT sites, then we will be sworn in as official Peace Corps Volunteers on November 30th.
