About a week ago I had an especially nice conversation with my dad. It was one of those conversations that reminds me that what I am doing here truly is a dream. It is so easy to get wrapped up in the daily stresses of life and to forget that this truly is a grand adventure. So after this conversation I head out to the souk (market) to buy a Happy Birthday helium balloon for a little girl in my class. I am walking with a spring in my step that had been missing for awhile as I dealt with the stress of school and report cards and thoughts of how do I help Ahmed understand living things without using any language and how do I grade a child who can’t communicate with me and how do I find more ways to challenge Abdellai and how do I…and on and on (not their real names of course). But on this particular night I felt it. I felt like I truly was living a dream. I walked around in my own little world, when suddenly I smell…farm animals?! Strange because I am in the market that I go to every day. I look around and sure enough about 30 sheep and rams right there in the middle of the market. Some of them are trying to wonder off, walking out in front of cars in true Egyptian fashion. Men and young boys hit them with sticks to keep them where they want them. I keep walking and then right there out of nowhere in front of a café that I like to go to, tied to a tree, are two cows. Just hanging out outside of the café as if someone had tied them up while they ran inside the way we would a dog. I giggle to myself then further down the road…more livestock. Of course I am not naive enough to assume that this really was what it looked like: my souk turned into a petting zoo. But there were so many animals that I did question what they could be for - surely there are too many for them to be used just for meat. I think about how hilarious and odd my life is. And then I remember my assitant principal telling me, in a discussion about what my grade ones were going to do to celebrate the upcoming Hajj (a pilgrimage to Mecca, Saudi Arabia that Muslims make annually) that the symbol is a lamb, because they perform a lot of sacrifices. Oh...my poor little friends.
I have since researched this a little more. During Hajj, Muslims commemorate the trials of the Prophet Abraham. Most notably, he was commanded by Allah (God) to kill his only son, Ishmael. He prepared to do this but then Allah intervened, and called out to them stating that his intention was enough and told him to replace his son with a ran to sacrifice instead. So Muslims now slaughter an animal (typically a goat, sheep or ram but can also be a cow for the very wealthy). They then keep a third of the animal for themselves, give a third to family and friends and a third to the poor.
So my friends in the souk are waiting for people to come choose them. A number will then be drawn right on the animal and the family will come and feed their animal over the coming days. Then on the day of Eid they will come sacrifice the animal. Traditionally the person is supposed to perform the sacrifice themselves but they can also have someone do it for them but they should be present to watch. This is how I understand it anyway from what I have read and conversation that I have had. I have been visiting my "petting zoo" over the last few days and dreading the day when it returns to what it was.
process of transporting the mummies through the tombs and the makings and statues and what they meant, a fort made partially from the remains of the lighthouse (one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World) that was destroyed, where we stood and watched the waves crashing on the shore and marveled at the beautiful view of the city, ruins of the ancient city which has largely been destroyed because it was a constant war site for so many years...anyway a lovely visit. For me it is nice to be out with the two male American teachers that I work with. Being with a man changes everything in this part of the world. While the harassment does not stop, it frees me up to experience the people in a way that I can't alone. We stopped and had tea with a man who was sitting out on the street in front of his seafood shop which looked to me like he and his employees were the sole customers, with a mountain of fish and fishbones (and no plates) piled on top of newspaper on a fold up table. I would never be able to do something like this alone - I can see how different of an experience it is to be a man in this country. Anyway, it was a great little getaway that left us refreshed and ready to meet the little ones.
