Tabski Festivities

I spent the Tabaski/Eid festivities in both Douentza and Dimbatoro this year. The parties began on Monday in Douentza, where they apparently had a better glimpse of the moon than the brousse villages. Antony, another PCV, came up and we ate until we were stuffed. Our neighbors, especially Sira Cisse, were bringing over entire roasted goat legs, racks of lamb, widjula (steamed bread with an oily meat sauce, rice dishes and various snacks all day. Basically, the streets ran red with blood due to the sheer number of animals slaughtered for the fest. If you are a married man, you are supposed to kill a fattened sheep. If you are short on cash, a goat will work. Slaughtering a cow is apparently good for up to seven people (the equivalent of 7 sheep). Being unmarried and non-muslim, I was exempt from the ritual animal slaughtering. Although, I did buy a hefty goat to eat when my parents and Hilary arrive in village next Monday.

On Tuesday, Antony and I picked up our engorged stomachs and headed out to my village for another day of festivities, eat meating and tea drinking. Because my village is so small, it is really like one big family. Each house is like just another room in a large family house. If we had a pool table in the basement and a football game going on in the living room, it would be just like Grandma and Papa's house on Thanksgiving. We arrived in village and were promtly given a steaming bowl of zame, fried tomato rice with dried fish, "fresh" fish and meat. Despite the fishiness, it was slightly edible. After teh zame, we followed the men out to the fields were they pray. The Al Iman led prayers for an hour and offered his many blessings to the village for a prosperous new year, health to friends family and everyone, etc. As would be expected, the village men all showed up late, the kids fired off their mock guns during the prayers and complete disorganization ensued. The best part was watching Djougal scream at the kids for being disrespectful during the prayers... it is similar to taking unruly kids to Catholic church, but on a much grander scale. The rest of the day was spent wandering and greeting from house to house as the animals were slaughtered, drinking tea and eating grilled meats loaded with MSG powder (tastes great, but I often wonder how my blood pressure is doing).


On Wednesday, Antony and I went hiking into the mountains with Tijani and had a great view of the surrounding areas. Cold season is amazing here because we are actually afforded the opportunity to view the beautiful landscape and not sweat to death. As ususal, I scrambled to the top of the mountain as fast as I could to get a great view. Antony and Tijani lagged behind. I climbed so much faster and higher than they did that they couldn't even get my attention screaming; I gave them a good scare. But I finally caught a glimpse of them from my perch up top and quelled their fears with a big wave and poking fun at how slow they were.


Anyway, enough of my ramblings, here are some pics of the fun with explanations.

Djougal holding up a freshly peeled goat skin as I tend to the roasting meat.

This is my host family (Jah Tigi). They slaughterd three goats, one sheep and a cow.

Here, Al Hadji (His real name is Gibreel, but he made the Hajj pilgrimage to Mecca in 2000 to obtain his title) is slaughtering a goat as two other guys help to hold it down.

Rocks and mountains behind my village

Antony is standing on one of the rocks mid-frame. You can make out his green shirt.

Here's Antony after drinking some chobal. His face shows the obvious displeasure with the sour taste. Chobal can be fermented into millet beer. As my village is Muslim, they only ferment it enough to make it sour.

These are some women and children helping to prepare food for the festivities.

Ousman, a neat little kid

Firing guns in the town square

Post-prayer walk back from the fields to the village

I am wearing a traditional Fulani hat and carrying a cow-beating stick (saure)

More gun firing directly after the prayers

And even more gun firing

Why not one more gun firing picture...

Dogons love their guns... No bullets, just as much powder as they can cram into them. You'll occasionally see guys with bits of fingers blown off. Guess why.

Al Imam, Youssef, leading the prayers with the Muezzin, Oumar, holding an umbrella for shade.

Mamadou is the guy with the umbrella. He is an awesome guy in village.

These are the guys heading out to the fields to pray in the morning. The guy directly in front of me is Moussa. His house is right next to mine and he rocks. He's got a little kid, Abadeena, with down syndrome. He's a fun little guy, but I feel so bad for him because there is no structure in place to help kids like him. The village looks after him very well.

I'm dressed like a real Fulani.

Same attire, minus the hat and stick.