EID AL ADHA, OR TOBASKI 2013 (A PREFACE OR PREAMBLE...)

Of course as soon as I went back into work on the Tuesday it was ‘Do you want any overtime this coming weekend’ ?

Of course I want overtime, we’ve got a trip to The Gambia coming up in about eight weeks and what do you think is going to help pay for it ?

We were finally going to be out there for ‘Tobaski’, or officially Eid Al Adha.

The last time we’d actually been there together with the kids for Tobaski was the year we got married, and then of course there was our honeymoon so we managed to miss a lot of it, but now we were going back…                 

I’d booked it way back, nearly ten months ago when I had enough in my account to actually pay for the tickets… (£650 each through The Gambia Experience-You can find them online or at good travel agents) 

Because it wasn't officially part of the holiday season we'd actually got a 30 kilo baggage allowance which was a godsend to us, bearing in mind the amount of stuff we try and cram into our suitcases.

And they’d only asked for a deposit which was fine by me until I spent the rest on a particularly virulent gas bill and some other things involving visas…

But let’s not go there, eh ?  

It was never very nice in the first place.

So, about six weeks before we fly I get the rest of the bill.

Believe me, the overtime is a BIG help.

And so, the Friday before Tobaski, we flew…

It was the usual all-nighter for us, driving down to Gatwick to be there at four am and then finding out that the flight has been put back an hour…

AAAAAARRRRGH !!!!!!!

Don’t you just love it when that shit occurs ?

Ok, it was only an hour but us older folks do not appreciate it one bit, just think what it would have been like if it had been longer ?

We’d have fallen asleep about nine and missed the bloody thing altogether…

Ok, moan over.

It’s the usual flight, takes about six hours, there is a film and there is food, there is also sod-all in the way of legroom, and if you’re really lucky, not too many screaming infants…

And we’re there.

Only about half an hour later than we’d have been if the flight had actually departed on time,

for which, a big ‘thank you’ is due to the wind over The Sahara…

Through Customs and Immigration and immediately assailed by what looks suspiciously like every taxi-driver in The Gambia…

‘Hey, Auntie Haddy…’

And that one is ours.

And the kids don’t know we’re coming.

Oh, they know we’re arriving, but my wife didn’t actually give them the correct day, so they think we’re coming on next Tuesday’s flight…

Let’s catch them all out, is my wife’s explanation.

Ok, but let’s not do it too often, eh ?

There is a reason.

Hopefully we’ll get in and greet the kids before too many people flood the compound to welcome her back.

So, stop at the top of the road at the corner shop for a few bits and pieces (Julbrew, Guinness, Ginger Beer, Coca-Cola, Fanta, biscuits, cheese triangles… That sort of thing) and down the road we went…

 Now, you know what ‘Tobaski’ is, don’t you ?

You know it’s an Islamic Thanksgiving Festival, right ?

You didn’t ?

Well, you haven’t been too long at reading this blog then, have you, because I tried to describe it a few years back and the chapter is still there, believe me.

So what happens is…

I suppose I should ask if all the vegans and vegetarians are sitting comfortably in front of their screens reading this ?

I bloody well hope so, because you’re going to be doing a bit of squirming in a few minutes or a few pages time…

If, like me, you are a meat eater then it shouldn’t distress you too much unless you are one of those ‘Halal meat is evil’ sanctimonious hypocrites that I despise so much.

It’s just a different way of doing things, you may not like it but that’s just the way it is and I suggest you get over it.

If you eat meat then don’t complain because it is all bred for slaughter.

You’ve been warned, ok ?

Ok, so what happens is…

And who am I writing this for, anyway ?

You do know that the blog tells me where all my readers are, don’t you ?

I know how many Brit’s read it, how many Americans, how many Gambian, French, German, Swedish, Saudi-Arabian, Indonesian, Chinese…

Where you’ve come from, and which site sent you…

Which chapters you’ve read…

What’s the matter, feeling paranoid ?

You’re all out there reading this for whatever reason ?

Hey, I’m not knocking it, I’m just glad that you find me and my family worth your time.

I do realize that not everybody is going to be in the same position as me with the same sort of crazy life and family, so if it interests you in any way then that’s cool for me too.

And there are a few hundred of you tuning in from time to time.

Well, apart from the governmental spying search-engines let’s say ?

MI5, the CIA, all that lot are going to read it because it has the words 'Islam' and 'Muslim' in it, and they’re very suspicious of that sort of thing, which is why they do it.

Don’t worry, if I were in charge then I’d probably have got my spymasters to do exactly the same sort of thing…

And what’s more, truth be told, I’d bet a pound to a dollar to a euro that you would too ?

I just wish that they’d have the fucking decency to tell us the truth once in a while if they want to spy on us ?

Certain governments might get a little more respect (You reading this, Cameron ?)

Doubtful, bearing in mind they have scarcely told us the truth since they came to power and certainly didn’t over this particular subject.

And if Edward Snowden hadn’t blown the gaff and told the world that The USA were spying on all of us and giving the information to our lot then we’d have had our suspicions, but we would never have known the extent of it, would we ?

And just remember, if they’re checking me out, then they will be checking you out if you are reading the blog, because they want to know whether you are what they regard as a ‘terrorist’ ?

There…

I’ve just used the other word that’s going to set off the alarm bells on their search engines.

Therefore to use the title of a poetry cd I stuck out a few years back, we are ‘Erring on the side of paranoia…’

I do find it quite amusing, because it means I can take the piss and there is absolutely fuck all they can do about it…
Not that I'm denigrating the threat of terrorism, far from it.
The threat is now global whether we like it or not ?
Remember this, I grew up with the constant threat of the I.R.A. blowing us to hell.
But the threat of terrorism is there for all to see.
And it's not just the West, is it ?
How many Muslim countries face the same constant threat ?
More than most people realise, that's for sure.
So forgive me for taking the piss occasionally, because I'm up to here with the lies from both sides.
But this has deviated somewhat, so let’s get back to Tobaski, at least that's real.

The Tobaski festival, or to give it it’s proper name of Eid Al Adha for those who have never experienced one, is one of Islam’s celebratory days and is a public holiday apart from essential workers needed to keep the infrastructure going.

It is a sacrificial feast day to commemorate God telling Abraham to sacrifice his son, Ismail.

All married men and/or heads of households are expected to buy a sheep (or goat, cow, chicken, or whatever they can afford) and sacrifice it, cook it and give most of it away to those less fortunate than themselves, and then feed their family with the remainder.

It is literally a day for sharing whatever you have been able to afford and the whole country turns into one absolutely enormous barbecue.

Everybody, male and female alike dresses up in their finest clothes and that includes all the children who run around begging small coins from every adult they see to buy ice creams and sweets with, so make sure you have lots of small denomination coins in your pockets because you are definitely going to need them.

Parents and extended family are visited and I’m quite surprised it can all be fitted into one day.

Ok, so The Gambia is a Muslim country, right ?

The man is the head of the household, right ?

So who is it that is going to buy it, kill it, and then cook it and decide (with a lot of input from the Missus) where it’s all going ?

Yep !

You finally got it, didn’t you ?

Moi…

Muggins…

Yours truly…

Me ?

Oh shit !

Life certainly does throw up a few curveballs, doesn’t it ?

So…

Now you know.

I have to be honest, killing the animal is not something I’m actually looking forward to…

But that’s for next week.

Now is the time for surprising the kids.

So the taxi pulls up outside the gates and we get out, followed by the driver and our luggage, push the gate open and we’re home…

 

Eid Al Adha or The Tobaski Festival

We wake up to Eid Al Adha…
The Tobaski Festival.
For those who have never experienced one, it is one of the Muslim celebratory days and is a public holiday apart from essential workers needed to keep the infrastructure going.
Ok… Tobaski…
Tobaski is a sacrificial feast day to commemorate God telling Abraham to sacrifice his son, Ismail.
All married men and/or heads of households are expected to buy a sheep (or goat, cow, chicken, or whatever they can afford) and sacrifice it, cook it and give most of it away to those less fortunate than themselves, and then feed their family with the remainder.



It is literally a day for sharing whatever you have been able to afford and the whole country turns into one gi-normous barbecue.
All normal people can enjoy Tobaski...
Notice I said normal.
If there are a bunch of you holidaying in the country and some are vegetarian or vegan, then it's probably a good idea to have them locked in their hotel rooms so you don't hear their whineing...










Everybody, male and female alike dresses up in their finest clothes and that includes all the children who run around begging small coins from every adult they see to buy ice creams and sweets with so make sure you have lots of small denomination coins in your pockets because you are definitely going to need them.













Parents and extended family are visited and I’m quite surprised it can all be fitted into one day.
It really is one countrywide party.

All the hotel workers seem to know about us now, as the word seems to have got round that we got married yesterday, so we are literally inundated with congratulations and kind words by the few staff that have had to come in.
The gardeners, the maids, the cleaners, the kitchen girls and the chef, the desk guys… Even the lad in the hotel shop closes for three minutes to come round and offer us his congratulations…
Know what ?
When something like that occurs, it completely chokes you up.
It choked me up, anyway.
Even Ousman, our head of security, who is having to work all through the day offers his dalasi worth, and I’m going to repeat his, because I think it is worth repeating…
Actually he says I didn’t do too badly if I had to pick a Jola to marry…
But he’s smiling when he says it behind those ubiquitous shades, which is probably just as well because Haddy will never let him get away with saying anything like that, but then he says, addressing me…
‘If you find a woman… A good woman… One with love in her heart… Then you hold onto her as they are worth more than riches or money…’
I know the quote is accurate because I asked him to repeat it and I had my ‘phone on record…
Aaaahhh Ousman… You big softie, you…
But you know what ?
He’s right.
Sage advice from my Serer friend, and I intend to do just that…
In fact he’s so right that I gave him a big hug after he’d said it.
Ok, we’re both big softies…

Looking around at that moment, it strikes me that most of the staff are out of uniform…
Ousman for instance is in a dark yellow outfit with gold piping.
Even in his uniform he has a certain élan with his shades on, but in this outfit, shades included, he’s something else.
The waitresses, the maids, they all look absolutely stunning, and the whole hotel is an absolute riot of colour.
There will be absolutely nothing open today so we lounge around the hotel totally relaxed until the evening.
Pat decides to go out to give us some time together.
He’s taken his cameras but he’s a big boy now and hopefully he doesn’t need his big brother to hold his hand ?
Apparently, the sheep has been bought on my behalf for the compound and is being cooked while we wait.
I don’t know how many of the hotel staff cannot get back to their families on this day so between us we work out that we can feed at least four including Ousman, who is having to work all day, and the old man who looks after the gardens, so we make a couple of ‘phone calls…
‘Tufa will be doing the delivery run, later.
Ousman has a wife and son, and the old man is on his own, so that’s four portions going to good homes.
I have no idea how it’s going to be served up, but Haddy tells me that tin foil is fine and it will include rice and vegetables too.
When it comes to it, Ousman is amazed that we’d done it, but as Haddy said…
‘Even beggars and Serer’s have to eat…’ at which he laughs because he knows she’s just got him back for his ‘Jola’ jibe earlier.
Honestly… The pair of them never stop winding each other up.
The old gardener is a lovely man and he definitely knows his way around a garden, so when Haddy tells him that since he is working, we know he will not have been able to get anything for himself, so please accept this small offering from us for Tobaski, he is quite overcome and has to sit down.



He definitely wasn’t expecting that…
Small offering ? It was in a cardboard box the size of a shoebox !
But he’s worth it.
He really is a lovely old guy, and when I first met him and asked about some of the plants that I didn’t know, he took me literally all around the hotel showing me loads of things I’d never come across before.
His English is very basic, and my Wolof was non-existent at that time and is not that much better now, but somehow we conversed about the plants and he was surprised when at the end of my first trip out I told him he had taught me so much that I would have to put it into practice when I got back to the U.K.

Pat gets back in the early afternoon after nearly walking to the other end of Bakau.
Apparently he was stopped and greeted all the way by those who recognised him from the hotel and loads more besides, who are amazed that he kept asking questions about the country, about Tobaski, about everything he thought he might get an answer to, actually…
They all wanted to know about the wedding so it seemed like an information swap to him, but he also got invited back to a couple of compounds for Tobaski.
He turned them down with regret (thankfully) but thanked everybody for their kindness in such a way that it totally disarmed any questions about his American(Mid Atlantic) accent.
(Please remember that Muslims and Americans are not actually getting on too well around the world at this point… They keep killing each other…)

He’s a newspaper editor in real life and so with that journalistic background it comes easily to him but they didn’t know that, and he says he got some great pictures…

Late afternoon and we’re ready to go, so we say our goodbyes to the staff still there, and ‘Tufa collects us to take us home.
This is so strange because officially I’m now head of the household…
But the kids are the kids and so we’re not really aware of any difference, as there really isn’t any.






In the Gambia in the vast majority of things I will always defer to Haddy.


















Mariama has got friends round already,



and we start to receive our first guests officially…






I also have to take a picture of my first (cooked) sheep’s head to commemorate it…
Yeeeeuuuk !


















Sainabou and the twins have all been invited out,
























so they are seriously dressed up, and when we finally get back to the hotel it is past midnight.
I could definitely do this again.