Tabaski

I actually wrote this account on 28th November and it has taken until 20th Jan to post it - sorry...

Tabaski morning! Just before sunrise, the call to prayer breaks through the cicadas song. Then as the sun rises, the almost deafening dawn chorus begins, at first with the wild birds quickly followed by the domesticated animals and then the hum of human activity. Today the new sound of the bleating of the two sacrificial rams tied up to the tree by our house reminds us it's Tabaski.

We can hear Safi brushing the compound so feel compelled to get up and help. Teo always gets up first, usually waking Mimi to get up with him and play outside. Before we've got out of bed, Teo comes running back in so excited with his and Daddy's new clothes fresh from the tailor. It cost about 20 euros to have two lovely outfits made to measure in 3 days and they are beautiful.

All the men are dressed in their finery heading to pray at the mosque, only the ugly women are allowed to accompany them - or that's how Safi explains it!

Now they're back and it's time to kill the rams (one goat which we contributed 500 dalahsi towards the total price of 1300 D, and a sheep which appeared yesterday and we know nothing about). Every family who can afford it has a ram to sacrifice and the rest of the day is spent dealing with it. Yacuba, our landlord, dispatches them with one stroke of a knife, all is very quick, calm and quite. Next all the boys set to with knives to skin and butcher them. Within 20 minutes both beasts are butchers. Safi takes the liver to cook for Yacuba as he's had to fast until the sacrifice is made. Yacuba insists that we take a leg, a shoulder and some unchopped chops to cook for our family. Most of the rest gets given to the steady stream of deserving poor Yacuba has selected over the year.

So now what do we do with it all. With no fridge the only way we can preserve it is to chop it up and then soak it for a few minutes in salt water and then boil in a covered pot until the residue has disappeared. It seems a shame to have to chop up two such nice joints so we decide to roast them. We had a look in the book Stuey gave us 'An Explorer's Handbook', which describes a ground oven and that's what we've done. We've had the chops for lunch and the joints will be ready after the village football match. Hopefully, we can share it with the family although the timing of meal times is quite hard to predict and we will probably get it wrong.

I've already had to wash the children's new outfits, though this being the Gambia, they should be dry by the time the football match starts at 3pm. The kids have disappeared as they usually do - they are probably next door in the 'shop' with all the teenagers. Teo will usually come back with another bag of budake, which is bread crumbs, ground peanut and sugar, and a fascinating nugget of Jola culture. He's just run in now to ask if he can go to Ismaila's compound with him - we thought Ismaila lived here but it turns out that Yacuba had Die-vorced Ismaila's mother and so officially he doesn't live here. There are so many people who seem to hang around here it's hard to know who's who.

It's 5 pm now and still no sign of the football match. Safi says 5.30 now and she's the team manager so she should know. Her team is called Barcelona and Ismaila and Denbo, Yacuba's sons are in it...... It actually kicked off at about 6.30 after a very long argument over whether there would be a 250D wager between the teams. It was almost completely dark by half-time but in the second-half Barcelona scored twice apparently - jubilation all round - I couldn't see a thing. There were no fathers present at all, just all the children and some mums. We're still trying to work out what the men do apart from the once a year sacrificial killing.

We're back now and have just dug up dinner which is absolutely fantastic. Safi had been very worried about our cooking method but now she's tried it and she's actually impressed. Thoroughly stuffed, we're 'relaxing' on our 20cm high stools when Ibrama our neighbour turns up to invite us to eat as his compound. Off we go for a huge plate of boiled goat. As it's now pitch dark, you have no idea what you're eating but luckily there's a lot of dogs and cats around to save embarrassment. We're also served baobab juice made from the strange fruit of the baobab tree which looks like a dead rat hung up by its tail from these incredible prehistoric looking trees. There's a white dry pith inside which they soak for an hour, drain and then add kilos of sugar - its surprisingly good.

Then off home for a few more secret warm beers and bed - who would have thought that a concrete platform covered with a 2 inch foam mattress could be the most comfortable place in a house!