The Big Holiday

That’s the popular name for Eid al-Adha, the Islamic Feast of the Sacrifice, which just past this week. Eid al-Adha is, for comparison, like a combination of the intensity of Thanksgiving, Christmas, and occasionally little bits of Halloween all at the same time. It’s so big, in fact, that Peace Corps volunteers are forbidden from travelling anywhere for a full week – the roads are that packed with people going home or to visit friends and relatives, and towns and cities are just that crazy. Fortunately, I’m still living with a host family, so I was able to experience all there is to the Eid, but before we get there, perhaps a little background on its origins.

The Eid is a commemoration of something that happened at perhaps the very beginning of all three Abrahamic religions. It’s a festival celebrated only by Muslims, but the event is part of Judaism and Christianity. I’m a little fuzzy on some of the details, to be honest, but I’m hoping that you’ll recognize the story and fill in the rest on your own. It all began with Abraham, the founder of this religious tree, and a dream he had. In his dream, God commanded him to sacrifice his son, Ishmael (I believe). We he awoke, he discussed this vision with his son, who, being sensible, recognized the inevitability of God’s will and told Abraham that he had to do what he had to do. They gathered everything necessary for the sacrifice, Abraham raised the knife over his son, and right before he’d gone too far, God interceded and sent a ram, which they sacrificed instead. As well as I can remember, this was God’s test for Abraham, who, having shown his absolute piety, would go on to lead the new religion. (Anyone should feel free to comment here on the accuracy of my recounting this story.)

Today, people across the Muslim world show their piety by reenacting this story’s most important detail, the slaughter of a ram. Actually (and here I’m going to start speaking just about my experience in Morocco rather than universal Islam), it doesn’t have to be just a ram. Though most people do look for the biggest, fattest, most impressive-looking ram that they can find and afford, they’re more than free to slaughter a ewe instead, or even a goat. My language is not the best, but I’m fairly certain that I heard that people with diabetes opt for the goat. Why this makes a difference I can’t tell you. And I should make a small amendment: when I say “people,” I should say “families.” There is supposed to be one ram per family, which means that even small towns in Morocco need a lot of rams.

This is part of the excitement, however. Starting about a week before, all the sheep and goat farmers from the area start bringing in their animals and make an informal souq (“market”) in the center of town. At least, that’s what happened here in Freedonia. As we get closer to the day of Eid, people start to get moving on acquiring their sacrifice. The souq gets packed with folks looking for the best ram, which has to meet several requirements. First, you feel its back end, right about where the spine reaches the hips, to see if there’s any meat there or not. You also have to pick it up and take a look at its teeth (for obvious reasons). You see, there are some unscrupulous ram venders who try to fluff up the wool, or give it low-quality, fattening feed in the week immediately before to give it bulk, but not meat. And these things are expensive. Families are dropping well over a thousand dirhams – and this is in a relatively poor part of the country. In fact, they’re so much so that venders on quote the first two digits of the price, like, “26,” meaning “26 thousand riyals.” (A riyal is a ridiculous construction that is equal to one twentieth of a dirham, and just about all prices are quoted in them, but there are no denominations of money that indicate their riyal value, but I’d rather not go down that road just yet. Suffice it to say, 26,000 riyals is the same as 1,300 dirhams, which is approximately 162.5 dollars. When's the last time you payed that much for your Thanksgiving turkey?) My family and I walked around the ram market for more than an hour, grabbing the back end of any reasonable-looking animal, asking for some prices, and trying to bargain down the sellers. I tended to have little idea of what was going on, but we eventually got ourselves a good-looking ram, brought him home, and got ready for the Eid two days later.

On the day of Eid, people wake up early and pray, and then get to the business of the ram. Like American Thanksgiving, the majority of the day is devoted to either the preparation or consumption of food, and, thus, the ram needs to be slaughtered quite early. Actually, the most surprising aspect of the entire Eid is the straightforwardness of the slaughter itself. I’m not exactly sure why, but I had expected something more of pomp and circumstance. There is none of this. No praying or invoking of holy powers, no family gathering, no ritualistic aspects of any kind. In fact, only a few people in my family were there when the ram was sacrificed, and I think this was mostly to see what I would think of it. And from what I saw of other families, this is fairly common. Even the king, who had his slaughter rebroadcast on the news, merely had a ram brought over and held down by attendants, took out a knife, and cut its throat. That was it. If the movie Gone in 60 Seconds had been about Eid al-Adha instead, it might have actually been a decent film.

The process of the slaughter is very important, however. Muslims are forbidden from consuming the blood of animals, which is not only a problem for Islamic vampires, but also means that all of the blood must be removed from the animal. (Spoiler Alert: If you’re a member of PETA or similarly disposed, you may not want to read the rest of this paragraph. Probably not the next one, either.) Consequently, the jugular of the animal is cut, causing lots of bleeding, but by not severing the spinal column the ram’s brain continues to drive the beating of the heart, which causes the animal to pour out all of its blood. If the brain were no longer connected to the heart, blood would stay in some of the veins. I’m not entirely certain that some doesn’t stay in either these processes, but I can say that a piece of meat here in Morocco doesn’t seep blood like a piece does back in the States.

Once all the blood is out, the butchering commences. This begins with removing the skin (wool included), which is actually quite fascinating. To separate the skin from the muscle, you cut a small hole in one of the rear legs and blow into it, inflating the torso and legs like a balloon or really unfortunate bagpipe. Things then proceed pretty much as you’d imagine – with a brief pause to decapitate the ram about halfway through – until all the skin is off. At this point, you hang up the carcass and have to get to the business of disembowelment. As far as I can tell, every part of the ram, aside from the hooves, horns, and skin is eaten, which includes all the major, minor, and never-before-seen organs scattered about its innards. Each must be carefully separated from the body and placed aside for cleaning and eventual eating.

Speaking of which, immediately after the organs start to come out, the cooking begins. Much of the food that I’ve eaten here in Morocco has been pressure cooked, but the Eid ram is grilled (some parts are pressure cooked later), and as far as I can determine, everyone starts with liver and lungs wrapped in the fat that lines the stomach. This may sound somewhat unpleasing, but the fat actually adds a lot of flavor, and, with some salt and hot pepper, makes for some very tasty kebabs. As for the rest, I’ve been counting down the internal organs as we’ve eaten them, and there can’t be too many left. I think that today’s lunch is going to be the head and everything that comes with it, after which I can’t think of anything remaining. It has been six days since Eid, and last night’s dinner was the first meal in all of that time when we ate chicken (mutton/goat and chicken are pretty much the only meats I eat with my family). It was delicious.