L-Eid L-kbir

I would be surprised if there is a PCV in Morocco who did not blog or call or email about their first L-Eid l-kbir experience which took place yesterday. L-Eid l-kbir is the annual sacrificial feast derived from the feast of the atonement, Abraham’s substitution of a sheep for his son in sacrifice. It is the central feast in Islam, and is accompanied by purification rites, prayer, and alms-giving. Every family who can afford it, buys a sheep for sacrifice on the given day. Although the animals are treated with respect, the slaughter is a traumatic occasion to experience, even for those of us who grew up with wild game hunting. I think it is the sheer magnitude of the event that was so unsettling—literally millions of sheep were killed with a knife slash to the throat at mid-morning yesterday. Everywhere I looked from the rooftop, there were groups of people bent over a dead sheep, and blood was literally running in the streets. The sheep are then skinned and hung to cure (ours was hung in the window next to our bedroom) and the innards are extracted, cleaned and eaten. I stayed in the kitchen for the bloodshed, but didn’t escape the evidence; soon there was a pan of intestines in the sink, a stomach on the drainboard, and a pan of liver and lungs and a charred sheep head on the table. Some of these were cooked over a wood fire grill that evening, but we declined to eat them, so they grilled a rabbit haunch just for us. It was quite tasty even though I knew it was from the rabbit hutch on the roof. The process of meat eating is very clear here. Four of us PCTs got together later to watch the movie “Love Actually” on the computer as a feel good way to end an otherwise distressing day.

The night before, as is traditional, our host sister applied henna to the hands of several of us women. The designs were beautifully artistic although they look much better on young hands. We had a little party during the painting with cookies, little pastries, and tea. It was a lot of fun. We were told to wear socks on our hands until the color was set, but I abandoned mine about half way through the night, so it now looks like a skin disease.

Today, the second day of the holiday, I was dressed up in a beautiful jallaba and the women of the family went out visiting. We drank tea, ate cakes and cookies, and I sat and watched cartoons in French on TV since I only understood a few random words of the rapid conversation. L-Eid l-kbir is over. L Hamdullah.