All About Eid

A holiday on Thursday for the Festival of Eid al-Fitr. This marks the end of Ramadan. Thank God, whoever your god is.

Not that I actually did any fasting but I just felt quite debilitated by the thought of it. So I think I deserved to join in the celebrations at the passing of this period of abstinence.

Special prayers are said, largely in the open in fields and stadia as well as mosques and then it’s a big festival of consumption. People were staggering out of the markets on Wednesday evening laden with soft drinks and cakes and nuts and fruit and sweets. And then it’s a sort of open house for three days – like Hogmanay used to be in Scotland, with a rather less conspicuous consumption of Scotch. Rounds of visits to relatives and friends and the receiving of same at home. I’ve no idea how they work out who does what, where and when but it seems to work. No groups of revellers wandering the streets looking for someone who is in, to visit. Although there were gangs of children roaming around armed with carrier bags collecting protection money in the form of sweets from all and sundry..

Not equipped to receive at home, I did my bit of visiting.   As always, a fantastic spread awaits. Fruit and nuts and sweets and sambusas (what we would call samosas) and tomatoes and cucumbers and, of course, heaps of bread. All very nice but what I can’t get used to is the lack of a hierarchy of eating. No starter, main course, dessert as set in stone for British menus. At my first call a massive wedge of cake was thrust before me. I was just into my second forkful when space was made in front of me for some shurbo – a bowl of soup with half a sheep in it. Then perhaps some dates and a loaf of bread followed by a chocolate bar…

Shurbo

Sambusas

As a culinary widower I take what I can get but it is unusual.

Anyway, it’s all about unity and charity and celebrating God’s gifts. Men only of course. The women cook and serve the food; the men sit around and munch and chat. Ouch! I can feel the pins being put in the voodoo doll out there. All I can say is that the women seem to be having a pretty good time in their part of the house and they probably get to eat in some sort of logical sensory order, laughing at us juggling with meat and two veg in one hand and home-made chocolate cake in the other.

Enjoying Eid

The next Festival is Eid al-Adha, or feast of the sacrifice, in mid October. This is an important religious holiday honouring the prophet Ibrahim (Abraham) whom God tested by commanding him to kill his young, first born son to prove his faith. Ibrahim – and son – were steeled to go through with this but luckily God intervened at the eleventh hour with a lamb to sacrifice instead. As this is also a part of Christian teaching and as a first born I’m rather glad they worked something out.

Not so good for the sheep though. Boys are taught the secrets of sheep slaughtering at an early age here. It’s a bit of a coming of age ritual. Apparently you cover their eyes with their ears (the sheep that is)… Not sure that really qualifies as humane, though, and it still doesn’t prevent a hell of a mess on the carpet.