Bye Bye Howli

Eid Mubarak from the Maghreb!

I'm writing this in the late morning of Eid al-Adha. The sheep has been slaughtered, breakfast had, and we're now awaiting lunch.

For those curious about the sheep, I took no photos of the process, simply some of the aftermath. Trigger warning for those. Anyway, the slaughtering happens in a few short steps:

1. Take the ram to a large open part of the terrace. 

2. Hold ram down. 

3. In one motion, slit the throat (halal, yo).

4. Wait for it to purge all the blood. 

5. Cut off the head. 

6. Skin the ram and hang it up. 

7. Hang the stomach on the clothesline.

8. Take out and separate organs (heart, liver) for storage and preparation.

9. Spice the sheep. 

10. Grill various parts of sheep for consumption. 

The last two steps are currently still facing completion. I actually got to witness two slaughterings, as Khouloud took me to her cousins' house to see theirs. As we walked through the medina, we passed crowds of young men around charcoal pits meant to roast the sheep heads. Because everyone washes the blood down the drain to the streets, the streets were indeed running with blood. Punctuated by the occasional "baa" from unseen terraces, the whole setting seemed absolutely biblical. Khouloud and I actually had to deliver our sheep's head to a private fire pit where they will roast it without burning it. Much more professional and safe than the boys with the charcoal pits. 

As I recount this, I am taking care to avoid doing so with any sort of tone or judgement. I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and I really wish to treat this experience and all the others I'll have in Morocco the way I would wish someone studying abroad in India would do. I imagine the hurt and irritation I feel when students studying in India critically complain about some aspect of culture, society or tradition that is totally normal in context. The betrayal I feel at their close-mindedness. It would be unfair of me to be so hypocritical in applying those same criticisms and judgements to the things I see here. 

In fact, as we breakfasted on the other side of the terrace (directly opposite from where the sheep was being flayed), a dove fell smack through the tarp from the sky and fluttered around our table before settling on the bicycle to accompany us. It felt incredibly poetic, this international symbol of peace joining us so abruptly as we watched the friendly mustachioed butcher expertly skin our sheep. 

There's a lot of cleaning and preparing happening right now and I'm trying to mostly stay out of the way, so as not to mess anything up. I have absolutely zero experience in doing anything like this, so my role is relegated to mostly passive observer. 

I myself have faced a lot of criticism from various unnamed contributors who find it problematic not only that I am here celebrating an important Islamic holiday, but that this holiday falls around the same time as important Hindu holidays (Dussehra, Vijayadashmi). To you I say...absolutely nothing. At least directly. I don't want to defend not only myself, but large parts of the world for simply worshipping, living, existing, unobstructively, the way they do. Just yesterday I read that there was a stampede in Patna that killed almost forty women and children during services for Dussehra. I've been told that it's "weird" and "strange" that these things happen during religious festivities, that it's "odd" that we construct idols out of coconuts and flowers and chant hundreds of names for the same deity for hours. I declare vehemently that such statements a product of ignorance and bigotry, misplaced without context and without appreciation for the wisdom and uniqueness of such an ancient tradition. I do this for my own faith - but why is it that the defense should stop there? Hinduism is a beautiful and individualized religion that belongs to me in many ways. But my defense against ignorance should not be selective to my own faith, right? That in itself feels to me like a form of prejudice. Actually what it truly feels is contrarian to all the Hindu teachings I've grown up learning and internalizing. 

I don't want to devote too many posts on this blog to the topic of religion, as there are many other issues that I can and want to talk about. My ISP for example, how mean Najwa's little brother Ayoub is and my newfound affinity for rainbow loom bracelets, the fetishization and exotification of culture. I also don't mean for this blog to radiate positivity or negativity - more quietly reflective observance. 

Anyway I didn't mean for this post to be so long, so I will end it here. A very happy Eid to everyone who celebrates it. A happy Dussehra to everyone who celebrates it. See you on the other side. 

One of my favorite streets in Rabat's medina.

To the left is the stomach.