Earlier in the week, three of my host brothers from the Kombo area, Samba, Sainey, and Fude came for the celebration. All were cool dudes that were about my age, so we chatted and drank lots of attaya while they were in town.
As for the day of Tobaski itself, it began with me fumbling with my 'Kompleto' trying to get the drawstring of my pants properly inserted and tied. It took the effort of my mother Keenee, Sainey, and myself to finally get er' done. We were running late for the prayers that were taking place that morning. My father is the Alimamo, i.e. the religious leader, so this is his big moment.
We arrived at the Mosque and tossed our prayer mat down outside. The Mosque was too small to house every one in attendance.....sort of like church on Easter Sunday, right? We immediately began recanting a prayer that involved lots of standing up, kneeling, kissing the ground, standing up some more, etc. The language of choice was Arabic, so I had no clue what was being said, but I was able to play along with the physical aspects of the prayers at least. It was a nice ceremony. Lots of handshaking and pictures afterwards, with everyone dressed in their finest cloth.
For the past three or four weeks, my father had been escorting a very fine looking ram around the village. During this time, our ram had it made, eating only the finest grasses and mango leaves and even getting a nice, refreshing bath every couple days. This all came to an end at the conclusion of the prayers. As soon as I arrived back home, there he was, breathing his last few breaths before he turned into breakfast, lunch, second lunch, afternoon snack, dinner, and second dinner. I personally had a hand in the butchery, which was quick work, as my family are all skilled butchers.
Tobaski being the exception, I don't think meat made it on to the final draft of the Gambian food pyramid. Everyone was excited about the prospect of eating meat all day long. I was just happy to have a rice-free day.
Amidst gorging myself all day long, I was constantly being asked for 'saliboo', i.e. money. Apparently, giving prayer gifts is expected, but being the awkward foreign guy in town, I was wholly unprepared for this. I had money, but only 'large' denominations of 50 and 100 Dalasi. I'm pretty sure asking for change would have been tacky in any culture.
Somewhat surprisingly, most people were going to bed early - I suppose all that meat needed digesting. I also turned in early. But my Tobaski experience did not actually reach its climax until around 5 A.M. the next morning, when I blew some serious chunks. Initially, I wanted to blame it on eating too much. But I've put on far greater displays of gluttonous excess before. Then I remembered the sheep testicle I ate in the food bowl for dinner. Yea.
Baabaa with his pride and joy
Gettin' all pertied up
A faata le
Jongfolo be tabiroo la
Opah, Jongfolola kewo
Mariama, future super model
No, I didn't show my little brother (front center) that gesture...
--Junkung
