You Say Tabasco I Say Tabaski

After Ramadan I had prepared myself for the next big Muslim holiday of the year, Tabaski. It is where Muslims around the world sacrifice an animal, following the story of Abraham from The Quran. With the craziness of school and post grad school the holiday snuck up on me. Next thing I know it's a week away and I am frantically scrambling to make sure we have enough cash to buy our sheep. Once the cash was in hand Mohammed found or ram. I came home from school to a big, stinky, poop littering sheep. Unlike the Turkey we (meaning Mo) killed, and ate for Christmas I did not consider keeping him for a pet. I also learned from that experience and vowed to myself I would witness the entire process this time, including the slaughter. As an omnivore, who has spent time educating myself on the American system, where meat comes from, how it's done, etc. I love to get on my soap box and preach about how meat doesn't magically just appear in these perfect packages in the super market. Living in Asia, I made some progress with this, seeing the butchered animals in the market. I had never actually participated in, or seen the actually killing of the animal. When it was in my bathtub at Christmas time, I wanted nothing to do with it until the process was finished. Self- aware to see the borderline hypocrisy happening here, I honored that bird by cooking it properly and feeling an obligation to honor this animal while eating it. No love was lost between myself and the stinky sheep that made my kitchen smell like livestock in the morning when i went to get my coffee- his chosen hangout was that side of the house. It's possible I detached myself purposely knowing what was coming. So the day came. A few friends, of various denomiantions gathered to share in the tradition with us. I videotaped and took photos of the entire process for Mo and his family. This was his first time doing it on his own, and I felt a strong obligation to document and share with his family. The killing is done Halal. This means that the throat of the animal is cut quickly without severing the spinal cord, and drained of blood. It is humane and an important part of the Muslim belief to not consume any blood. As I watched, my consicous mind knew this was happening, however watching the spirit of a being drain from it's body, tears came to my eyes. After the sheep had passed, the muscles and nerves continue to contract, giving the appearance that the animal is running. Mo shared with us, that Muslims will say he is "Running to Allah" and is in heaven now.

The skinning must be done immediately, while the animal is still warm. This part I had no problem with. I took photos and was running around trying to help get whatever was needed. The butchering was done with the help of our guard and our American friend who grew up on a farm. She did a great job of coaching, while letting Mohammed run the show. All around it was the ultimate biology lesson. Ever.

Later that day we skewered and bbq'd the organ meat. Leaving the rest of the meat to dry out before being butchered. I ate what I could. Baby steps. I have tried lots of different foods, but you can only eat so many organs at once... After the day was finished and our friends had left it dawned on me how exhasuted I was. Between hosting, trying to be a support, talking to the family in morocco and attempting to take part in the process myself, I was spent. It was such a wonderful day and I couldn't have asked for it to go any better. I am so proud of Mo.

The next day we gathered to have a feast. In Niger the first day of Tabaski the animals, which can be sheep, goat, cow or camel, are strung up on x shaped lines and bbq'd. We did ours Moroccan style, so the feast came on Friday. Mohammed slow roasted the rack ribs, coating it in butter. It was amazing, we ate and ate and enjoyed the animal that had given it's life.

 Every part possible to use was used and overall the experience taught me so much about myself and the people around me. Taking that first step to watch the killing was huge for me in my evolution as a human who eats meat. I have second graders in my class who have seen it since they were able to walk, and wouldn't think twice about it, but as an American who came from an urban area, it's taking some getting used to.

Last year I was disapointed when I did not receieve an invite to celebrate with anyone here in Niger for Tabaski. Not long after, I went to Morocco where Mohammed and his Mom had saved some of the best meat from their sheep, and I was welcomed my first night with a "Tabaski" feast. A day or two before Tabaski this year, I decided to check out the hash tags on instagram to see what sort of things people post- and to get an idea for where the line might be drawn for what's appropriate to share for the world, and what's too gory. I was met with mostly images of women and their fabrics and designs, getting ready for the big day when one post stuck out to me. It was a photo of hot sauce somewhere deep in rural america. The hash tags were #tabasco #tabaski and I giggled to myself thinking about how this instagramer likely had no idea where his photo would end up being grouped. Just the same as I had never heard of Tabaski until I moved to Niger. Can you imagine that I ever would have been asking for cash to buy a sheep as fast as possible to get the best deal, or be slaughtering it in my driveway? It's amazing the things life brings our way, and part of the fun is the uncertainty of it all. I wish peace for all Muslims throughout the year, and especially on holidays.