The Blood Runs through the streets

Listening to: Sigur Ros – ( ) 2002 … the parentheses are the album title. Icelandic Band are one of my favs.

*This post contains graphic descriptive writing, and may not be suitable for those with weak stomachs, or who cannot take descriptive opinion and thoughts about animal killings.*

Today, when I was texting a friend, I wrote a benediction as the response. I wanted to share that with you all now.

“May your streets be cleansed with the blood of the slaughter, and your body be ever filled with the meat of the blessing of Abraham.” – Me

Eid al adha, commonly referred to as 3id kbir (big holiday), is the celebration of Abraham (same guy as in the bible… as many of the biblical characters are EXACTLY the same in Islam) and his willingness to sacrifice his son, Ishmael, to God in obedience. This holiday is the biggest single holiday in the Islamic calendar (month of Ramadan might be equally as big.) In the holy city of Mecca, Saudi Arabia, roughly 3.4 MILLION people are making the pilgrimage in what is referred to as the “Hajj.” This pilgrimage to the Kabaa (the most sacred site in Islam) is one of the five pillars of Islam (if anyone wants me to discuss the five pillars… I will, please please ask if you do.) It is expected that every Muslim should make the pilgrimage at least once in their lifetime. People save up all of their money in order to pay for the trip.

This is essentially my equivalent of Moroccan Christmas. Everyone is in a festive spirit, and every family purchases an animal (sheep, goat, camel, cow… BUT NOT PIG… that is considered unclean in Islam) to slaughter as celebration for Abraham and his obedience. So just think, however Muslim families are living around the world, each one is expected to slaughter. That is a lot of food, and a lot of blood. Puddles of blood sit in the packed mud streets, various shades of red. Children get gifts and money in order to go out and stock up on some candy and sugary type goods. Everyone is happy.

For me, this is year number two, so I am accustomed by now to animals hanging up, watching them get their throats slit, and standing there (even helping) with the methodical, yet CLEAN process in which they are cut apart and readied for eating.

In fact, last year for our Peace Corps Volunteer thanksgiving, I was fortunate enough to slaughter one of the turkeys we bought. I say “fortunate,” because I feel that if I want to eat meat, and find nourishment from meat, I need to be okay with killing an animal myself.

This year, knowing that it was likely my last holiday in Morocco, I paid extra close attention. I watched (just like last year) as the sheep’s throat was slit by the butcher, clean through the arteries, as well as the trachea. Quick and methodical. There wasn’t a whole lot of blood, at least as much as I thought there should be. I watched closely, staring the sheep straight in the eyes, wanting to see just what it was going through. The pupils became dilated (maybe eyes in general), then after a few seconds the eyes rolled back a little bit, as the sheep was gasping for breath, but just kind of gurgling, unable to make any sounds, the arteries pulsating and spilling blood with every tick of the heart. A few kicks here and there, some last moments of trying to escape the sacrificial death, but to no avail. The eyes closed a little, and it was the end, minus a few random twitches… which continue in the muscles even after separation (for example, when the leg is cut off from the hip, the thigh muscle will still pulse once in a while, as the chemicals in the muscles are still active… it’s THAT fresh.)

I apologize (but I don’t really) for my descriptive account. My logic is this: if you want to eat meat, know where it comes from, what it eats, and be able to handle watching it get slaughtered. It really puts a perspective where the meat and food on my table comes from. I also want to say that when I go back to the states, I might likely be a vegetarian. I don’t know if I can handle the practice of how most of our meat in the US is produced… on large industrial farms. Maybe I can get some local fresh cuts, fed by nutritious grasses rather than industrial feed. I suppose I will see.

Maybe two hours after the death of the sheep, we were eating the first round. This round consists of the organs, specifically the liver and the lungs, cut into pieces (cubes) wrapped in fat, and grilled over coals. Not sure how it sounds to you all (my precious readers,) but to me, it sounds delicious. When spiced correctly, it leaves your mouth watering for more, and is spectacular to eat.

Afterward (dinner later today), there is more to eat. Likely other organs, i.e. brain, eyes, testicles, etc. come to mind. I had goat face last year, it was alright. Not my favorite. There is also cured meat, that consists of organ meat wrapped in fat, and marinated, and then left hanging to dry. It might be my favorite, and reminds me of a mix of spiced ham and haggis (a Scottish specialty.)

Eventually, you are just eating sheep meat. I don’t particularly like sheep. To me, it tastes like a wet sheep smells. Yuck.

Another difference for me this year is that nothing is really new for me. This allowed me to reflect, take it all in, and cherish this very morning with the people that I enjoy, and care about me. Tomorrow I likely will venture up the mountain, to share with another dear family (with another volunteer.)

I also want to mention that I received a call from my host dad from my training village. If you have been avid followers of this blog, you know he is a stubborn, and seemingly grumpy old man. That’s why I love him. But after my most recent visit at my host sister’s wedding, we could finally converse. He called me the other day, and it brought a huge grin to my face, and filled me with happiness. He wanted me to come for the holiday, and be with the family. Sadly, we as Peace Corps volunteers are not allowed to travel during this period, as it is annoying, expensive, and accident prone (so a safety risk.) But it is the thought that counts, and I will return the call today to wish them a happy L3id.

As the final bit, I want to repeat the benediction. For me, this is a special day, even though I am not a Muslim. I will always think of this holiday, when it rolls around every year, wherever I may be living. But hopefully after reading this benediction again, you can maybe understand what moved me to write it.

“May your streets be cleansed with the blood of the slaughter, and your body be ever filled with the meat of the blessing of Abraham.” – Me

Peace and Love my friends! (PS. I may update this with pictures from last year.)