I Blame The Mouton

I'm back, having almost missed posting tonight because of another power outage that erased an email that I was just about to send.

I said I was going to go back a little and tell you more about the beginning of my stay here. Then I realized that nothing really exciting happened the first week I was here except for, and because of, Tabaski, the largest Muslim holiday of the year. It is during this holiday that a sheep is sacrificed, which from this point on I will call the mouton. That's the French word, and since eating sheep in the US is not something that I do, I prefer to say that I ate mouton.

I spent the day with my old host family in Pikine, which I suppose is a sort of suburb of Dakar. The grandparents live there in a huge house with so many relatives that I can't keep them all straight. Since it was only my second day in Senegal, I was worried that it be a stressful affair with them making me wear African clothes, etc. It turned out to be very laid back and they were very accepting of me randomly falling asleep on the couch. That's the nice thing about already knowing people here.

We sat on the roof/patio for a long time while they grilled mouton and I helped them wash the salad (3 times in bleach water, that's why it's safe to eat!!). Both times I have celebrated Tabaski, I have been fortunate enough to miss actually seeing the sacrifice take place. I made my new friend Binta who is actually my 5 year old cousin and is unbeleivably full of energy. She spent much of the day trying to take pictures with my camara, running around in circles in yelling and lifting up her skirt to inappropriate heights. I was very entertained. After eating, there was much TV watching (and sleeping for me).

That was day #1 of the mouton for me. Day #2 was Thursday when I went to have dinner at my friend Lamine's house. It was a mixture of dried and fresh meat (they always sacrifice 2 moutons so they have to dry some of it). My stomach was still doing okay. Day #3 was the worst. The maid was away on Tabaski vaction and my sister was sleeping or something (my brother and his friends have no idea how to cook anything but eggs). They went to get some meat to cook. I thought it was beef. Nope, it was frozen neck of mouton. My sister was up at that point and began cooking it by boiling/steaming it. It was about midnight at this point and I hadn't eaten since lunch. All I could smell was the nasty nasty mouton and I was seriously nauseated. I wanted to help in the kitchen but couldn't stand the smell. Anyone who has ever smelled boiling mouton will know what I am talking about. It didn't actually get done cooking until about 2 am, mostly because it was a large chunk of frozen nastiness. When it was finally time to eat, I could hardly handle it. There was the mouton neck, complete with esophagus and my brother's friends ripping it apart and eating off the bones. Yeah. So gross.

I was SO sick that night. SO SO sick. I had just recently started drinking the tap water again, hoping my past exposure to it would act as a sort of vaccine. That could be what made me sick but no, I blame the mouton.

The next night was Lamine's birthday and guess what his family made? Mouton. I want over to his house to watch the Senegal-Zimbabwe Africa Cup soccr match and guess what they served? Mouton. This time the dried kind cooked in oil/its own fat. Yeah....didn't eat very much.

I have a feeling that mouton doesn't agree with very many people because when I told Lamine and his friends that I had a stomach ache, they said "oh, the mouton bit you". Apparently there is a phrase in Wolof saying just that. Silly mouton.