Because being in Morocco is a multi-dimensional experience, a friend and I have put up a Sound Blog featuring sounds we hear all around Fes in our daily lives. ( We wish we could share the smells.) Please consider this new sound blog as our gift to you and go check it out.
www.Soundfromfes.wordpress.com
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Monday, December 24, 2007
"They Stole the Sheep" , or the drama of Eid al Adha
I started writing this post on Monday, the first "real" day after the three days that marked the EID al Adha, the Feast of Sacrafice. It felt as if it were the morning after a wedding that went late into the night, when you wake up and realize that, even in some small way, the nature of the world is different.
But lets go back in time to Thursday afternoon, the day before the Eid began. I was invited to spend the Eid with many families, beginning with my neighbors and ending with people in other cities. As I rushed around the apartment to get all my things together before I went to spend the night at a friends house and begin the first day of the Eid with her family, I noticed three young boys digging a ditch and filling it with wood. It was out of the ordinary, but no one seemed to stop them, so I assumed it was one of those things I would come to understand with time. And I would come to understand,early the next day - that they were building a make-shift rotisserie where the heads of the animals sacrificed would be roasted (and eaten for breakfast in the tradtional Fessi way by some on the 2nd day of the Eid.)
The morning of the Eid, chanting could be heard from neighborhood mosques, the tradional " la ilaha il Allah , Allahu Abkar, Allahu Akbar, Subhana Allahi wa ALhamdililah wa La Hawla wa la Quwatta ilah Billah." We rushed to get dressed to go to the Eid prayer, everyone wearing new clothes or atleast their best clothes atleast. As we left for the prayer we had a little scare, because a neighbor noticed that my friends sheep was not in the cellar under the stairs where it had been seen just an hour or two before.
I immediately thought it had been stolen. "They stole the sheep," we repeated. But upon further investigation the sheep had fallen into a little hole in the cellar. We pulled it out and then rushed to make the Eid prayer.
It was an amazing crowd of people that spilled out of the mosque and out into its courtyard, and even past that onto its sidewalks. After a very inspiring sermon, we headed back to the sheep and towards the thing that makes this Eid so potent.
In my friends apartment building, sheep after sheep was dragged out of the cellar, or out of the bathroom, or off of the balcony and on the the roof, where they would be slaughtered. We encounered a slight problem in that a neighbor had tied his sheep to a pole on the roof near where we wanted to slaughter our sheep. According to Islamic law one animal cannot see another being slaughtered, especially if they're next. The neighbors sheep could sense something was not right when our sheep was gently layed on his side. The neighbors sheep started bucking and tried to jump over the side of the roof.A neighbor boy tried to calm him down and held his horns so that the sheep would not " commit suicide."
Next me and my friend held up a sheet and made a "human shield" so that the neighbors sheep would not see as her husband and his friend said a prayer then quickly cut the throat of their sheep.
I witnessed about 3 slaughters that day. It was a very powerful lesson about life and death, and obedience to religious commands that I am sure animal activists would reject.
Then came all the barbecue. The inner organs of the sheep were removed and then mixed with spices, wrapped in the sheeps fat and put on shish kebab sticks and barbecued over an open fire. We dipped them in cumin and salt and drank mint tea.
Let me guarantee you that just about no part of the sheep was wasted.
Over the next couple of days at several peoples houses I was offered the following parts of the sheep for eating, either roasted or as some part of a stew: head, brains,heart,liver, tongue, stomach, intestines, and testicles. I must admit that I did taste some of the above named - but not all. The sheepskins are cleaned and treated and used as cushions. A lot of people dont feel like cleaning them and dont have the money to have it done professionally, so they donate them to people who come around the neighborhood with carts and collect them.
It was three whirlwind days of fresh pastries, lots of visiting, lots of meat, and a general sense of happiness. To be honest although the official 3 days are over, people are still congratulating each other on the Eid and paying visits to people they didnt get a chance to get to earlier. And yes, everytime I walk out of my apartment, i get a whiff of barbecue from someone in my building trying to use up all that meat,and I am immediately taken back to that first day of the Eid.
But lets go back in time to Thursday afternoon, the day before the Eid began. I was invited to spend the Eid with many families, beginning with my neighbors and ending with people in other cities. As I rushed around the apartment to get all my things together before I went to spend the night at a friends house and begin the first day of the Eid with her family, I noticed three young boys digging a ditch and filling it with wood. It was out of the ordinary, but no one seemed to stop them, so I assumed it was one of those things I would come to understand with time. And I would come to understand,early the next day - that they were building a make-shift rotisserie where the heads of the animals sacrificed would be roasted (and eaten for breakfast in the tradtional Fessi way by some on the 2nd day of the Eid.)
The morning of the Eid, chanting could be heard from neighborhood mosques, the tradional " la ilaha il Allah , Allahu Abkar, Allahu Akbar, Subhana Allahi wa ALhamdililah wa La Hawla wa la Quwatta ilah Billah." We rushed to get dressed to go to the Eid prayer, everyone wearing new clothes or atleast their best clothes atleast. As we left for the prayer we had a little scare, because a neighbor noticed that my friends sheep was not in the cellar under the stairs where it had been seen just an hour or two before.
I immediately thought it had been stolen. "They stole the sheep," we repeated. But upon further investigation the sheep had fallen into a little hole in the cellar. We pulled it out and then rushed to make the Eid prayer.
It was an amazing crowd of people that spilled out of the mosque and out into its courtyard, and even past that onto its sidewalks. After a very inspiring sermon, we headed back to the sheep and towards the thing that makes this Eid so potent.
In my friends apartment building, sheep after sheep was dragged out of the cellar, or out of the bathroom, or off of the balcony and on the the roof, where they would be slaughtered. We encounered a slight problem in that a neighbor had tied his sheep to a pole on the roof near where we wanted to slaughter our sheep. According to Islamic law one animal cannot see another being slaughtered, especially if they're next. The neighbors sheep could sense something was not right when our sheep was gently layed on his side. The neighbors sheep started bucking and tried to jump over the side of the roof.A neighbor boy tried to calm him down and held his horns so that the sheep would not " commit suicide."
Next me and my friend held up a sheet and made a "human shield" so that the neighbors sheep would not see as her husband and his friend said a prayer then quickly cut the throat of their sheep.
I witnessed about 3 slaughters that day. It was a very powerful lesson about life and death, and obedience to religious commands that I am sure animal activists would reject.
Then came all the barbecue. The inner organs of the sheep were removed and then mixed with spices, wrapped in the sheeps fat and put on shish kebab sticks and barbecued over an open fire. We dipped them in cumin and salt and drank mint tea.
Let me guarantee you that just about no part of the sheep was wasted.
Over the next couple of days at several peoples houses I was offered the following parts of the sheep for eating, either roasted or as some part of a stew: head, brains,heart,liver, tongue, stomach, intestines, and testicles. I must admit that I did taste some of the above named - but not all. The sheepskins are cleaned and treated and used as cushions. A lot of people dont feel like cleaning them and dont have the money to have it done professionally, so they donate them to people who come around the neighborhood with carts and collect them.
It was three whirlwind days of fresh pastries, lots of visiting, lots of meat, and a general sense of happiness. To be honest although the official 3 days are over, people are still congratulating each other on the Eid and paying visits to people they didnt get a chance to get to earlier. And yes, everytime I walk out of my apartment, i get a whiff of barbecue from someone in my building trying to use up all that meat,and I am immediately taken back to that first day of the Eid.
Monday, December 17, 2007
looking for signs of life outside of Fes
So,
Some of my Fes committments lightened and I decided to go to my old stomping ground, the ocean side capital city of Rabat. To be honest, I was reluctact to leave Fes, it is very dear to me. But the second I got off the bus in Rabat, i missed it, loved it, and was so glad I had come. Besides it being very familiar to me, the weather here is just beautiful, AlhamduliLah.
I checked on CNN's website and the temperature here is 61 degrees farenheit , which is only 4 degrees higher than what they say the temp is in Fes, BUT there is a world of difference. You could build a house in the sun here. I keep congratulating people here on the nice summer weather. I was actually able to go from five to four layers of clothing.
But tomorrow I am scheduled to go back to Fes, braving Eid holiday traveling crowds. I am sure the train ride in itself will be an experience. Now let me get back to the sun.......
Some of my Fes committments lightened and I decided to go to my old stomping ground, the ocean side capital city of Rabat. To be honest, I was reluctact to leave Fes, it is very dear to me. But the second I got off the bus in Rabat, i missed it, loved it, and was so glad I had come. Besides it being very familiar to me, the weather here is just beautiful, AlhamduliLah.
I checked on CNN's website and the temperature here is 61 degrees farenheit , which is only 4 degrees higher than what they say the temp is in Fes, BUT there is a world of difference. You could build a house in the sun here. I keep congratulating people here on the nice summer weather. I was actually able to go from five to four layers of clothing.
But tomorrow I am scheduled to go back to Fes, braving Eid holiday traveling crowds. I am sure the train ride in itself will be an experience. Now let me get back to the sun.......
Thursday, December 13, 2007
A live sheep in his right hand
There are many signs of the approaching Eid al Adha, or Holiday of Sacrifice.
Amongst them the leaving of pilgrims of for Mecca to perform the Hajj. Everyone has their story of the person they know who has just left and how the chance to go miraculously appeared to them.
And then there is the prominence of sheep. A few days ago I saw a man walking the downtown streets with a live goose and two live chickens in his left hand and a leash attached to a live sheep in his right hand. All of the above mentioned animals were for sale. Since the slaughtering of sheep (or goats or cows) is a major part of this Holiday of Sacrifice where Muslims remember Abraham's submission to God's directive of sacrificing his son, from which God later gave him reprieve.
Even the fancy supermarket has a huge pen of live sheep in front of it where you can go and pick out your favorite. And inside there are tons of shish kabob sticks, grills, and meat grinders on sale. Considering the fact that every family that can afford it, will slaughter a sheep (in there house of course, most likely on their roof), there is a lot of meat about to be had. Although there is a lot of talk about how the drought is effecting the quality and price of sheep this year which I have been told generally goes for about 400-800 dirhams, with the dollar as weak as it is, that is about 60-100 dollars.
Bon Appetite and ofcourse, Awashir Mabrouk!!! ( How Moraccans say Eid Mubarak, or Have a Blessed Holiday)
Amongst them the leaving of pilgrims of for Mecca to perform the Hajj. Everyone has their story of the person they know who has just left and how the chance to go miraculously appeared to them.
And then there is the prominence of sheep. A few days ago I saw a man walking the downtown streets with a live goose and two live chickens in his left hand and a leash attached to a live sheep in his right hand. All of the above mentioned animals were for sale. Since the slaughtering of sheep (or goats or cows) is a major part of this Holiday of Sacrifice where Muslims remember Abraham's submission to God's directive of sacrificing his son, from which God later gave him reprieve.
Even the fancy supermarket has a huge pen of live sheep in front of it where you can go and pick out your favorite. And inside there are tons of shish kabob sticks, grills, and meat grinders on sale. Considering the fact that every family that can afford it, will slaughter a sheep (in there house of course, most likely on their roof), there is a lot of meat about to be had. Although there is a lot of talk about how the drought is effecting the quality and price of sheep this year which I have been told generally goes for about 400-800 dirhams, with the dollar as weak as it is, that is about 60-100 dollars.
Bon Appetite and ofcourse, Awashir Mabrouk!!! ( How Moraccans say Eid Mubarak, or Have a Blessed Holiday)
Monday, December 10, 2007
american me
So...
The good news is that Earl Grey tea is now back on the shelf at the fancy supermarket at the after 2 months of so of being MIA ( missing in action).
And other good news is that i managed to convince the Moroccan police that i am indeed unequivocally American. My residency card was being held up because they wanted to know what my real " origin" was. Every time I would say " America" they would emphatically gesture and say, " no but ORIGIN, ORIGIN." And then I would start my abridged history lesson about slavery and loss of origin and the guy was still looking at me, unsatisfied. Because of course Americans are white and since I'm not white I must be from somewhere else and they just felt sorry for me and gave me an American passport.
So then I repeat over and over " slavery." Finally, the guy says to me, in a very kind but still probing way, " when you were a child what did your grandparents tell you about the place that you all came from." It was one of those moments where I almost wanted to cry for the sadness of slavery and how it erased heritage and how i have become accustomed to this fact, and how this man found it to be so unbelievable.
So i told him, " They told me that we were stolen from Africa and that we were not allowed to remember where we came from or to speak our own language."
Finally, a wind of reason blows through the window and he says, " These are just adminstrative procedures we must go through, I hope you understand. If you are from Africa, then you are at home, this is your home and you are welcome here. "
The good news is that Earl Grey tea is now back on the shelf at the fancy supermarket at the after 2 months of so of being MIA ( missing in action).
And other good news is that i managed to convince the Moroccan police that i am indeed unequivocally American. My residency card was being held up because they wanted to know what my real " origin" was. Every time I would say " America" they would emphatically gesture and say, " no but ORIGIN, ORIGIN." And then I would start my abridged history lesson about slavery and loss of origin and the guy was still looking at me, unsatisfied. Because of course Americans are white and since I'm not white I must be from somewhere else and they just felt sorry for me and gave me an American passport.
So then I repeat over and over " slavery." Finally, the guy says to me, in a very kind but still probing way, " when you were a child what did your grandparents tell you about the place that you all came from." It was one of those moments where I almost wanted to cry for the sadness of slavery and how it erased heritage and how i have become accustomed to this fact, and how this man found it to be so unbelievable.
So i told him, " They told me that we were stolen from Africa and that we were not allowed to remember where we came from or to speak our own language."
Finally, a wind of reason blows through the window and he says, " These are just adminstrative procedures we must go through, I hope you understand. If you are from Africa, then you are at home, this is your home and you are welcome here. "
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