Tabaski: Feast of the Sacrifice

The men pray in the front and the women pray in the back.

Wikipedia's story behind Tabaski:

When Abraham attempted to cut Ishmael's throat, he was astonished to see that Ishmael was unharmed and instead, he found a dead ram which was slaughtered. Abraham had passed the test by his willingness to carry out God's command.^[1][13]

This is mentioned in the Quran as follows:

100 "O my Lord! Grant me a righteous (son)!"

101 So We gave him the good news of a boy ready to suffer and forbear.

102 Then, when (the son) reached (the age of) (serious) work with him, he said: "O my son! I see in vision that I offer thee in sacrifice: Now see what is thy view!" (The son) said: "O my father! Do as thou art commanded: thou will find me, if Allah so wills one practising Patience and Constancy!"

103 So when they had both submitted their wills (to Allah), and he had laid him prostrate on his forehead (for sacrifice),

104 We called out to him "O Abraham!

105 "Thou hast already fulfilled the vision!" – thus indeed do We reward those who do right.

106 For this was obviously a trial–

107 And We ransomed him with a momentous sacrifice:

108 And We left (this blessing) for him among generations (to come) in later times:

109 "Peace and salutation to Abraham!"

110 Thus indeed do We reward those who do right.

111 For he was one of our believing Servants.

112 And We gave him the good news of Isaac – a prophet – one of the Righteous.

—Quran, sura 37 (As-Saaffat), ayat 100–112^[14]

So, every year, Muslim families sacrifice a sheep as part of their second largest religious celebration after Ramadan. Aïsseta's family is Muslim, so I asked if I could go with them to pray and celebrate on Tabaski. She was more than happy to bring me! 

Their family purchased this ram for the equivalent of $70 USD a few days before the celebration. 

I'd just had a new dress made by the tailor across the street from her boutique. The material cost the equivalent of $4 and it cost $5 to make. $9 for a perfectly fitting dress? Yes, please! I take full advantage of having a tailor here! I wanted to buy a scarf I found in the market. The vendor asked $4 for it. I brought Aïsseta with me and I only ended up paying $3 for it. Win! It's very helpful to have a local come with me so I don't get the foreigner's price.  I'd also had my hair braided the day before the celebration. I was ready for a world of pain after watching the little girls cry while getting their hair braided, but I think all of those years of sports increased my pain tolerance because it really didn't hurt that bad. The hair dresser asked every 5 minutes if it hurt because it hurt all of the other whites she braided. But, it was totally fine!

I went to the mosque with the family in the morning. Everyone was dressed in their new clothes for the celebration. Since it's such a large community, the prayer was held on a soccer dirt field. The boys went to the front to pray with the men and I followed Aïsseta and her daughter and small son to pray with the women. We shared a prayer mat and it was time for me to follow the masses. The prayer ceremony was short and silent. I followed all of the bending and kneeling and bowing. There was one point where everyone starting humming at the same time, breaking the silence. It gave me chills, it was so beautiful. I'm easily moved by large groups of people sharing moments together. The silence of the prayer was incredibly powerful!

The women finishing praying on Tabaski in Burkina Faso

After the prayer, the festivities began! All of the children ran over to the side where people had setup their carts to sell homemade snacks and candy and toys. I took full advantage of this time to take a ton of pictures!

Aïsseta's mini boutique to sell goods

And then I took a lot more pictures!

My favorite people to hang out with in the evenings in town :)

The females of the family...and little Abadou!

The day of Tabaski was also the day of the market, so I went with Aïsseta into town and sat at the boutique for a little bit. That was when the dad had gone home to kill the ram. Again, so glad I didn't have to watch. Around lunch time, we headed back to her house and I sat under a tree with her neighbors' kids and my puppy. And then we FEASTED! And I say 'we' because Simba was so excited about all of the bones and meat to chew on. My body was just so stoked to have so much protein! I spent most of the afternoon chatting with people and enjoying the shade.

Later that evening, there was a dance at one of the main restaurants in town for the teens and young men and women. I stopped by to check it out and those kids were having so much fun! They'd been looking forward to it for weeks because one of Burkina Faso's rappers would be performing there. I was exhausted and gearing up for the celebration the next day at the Catholic church, so I hung out at the boutique and then went home.

You would never guess, but these are actually some of the happiest people I know. Smiling for pictures is not a thing here...

Me and my friend who is a volunteer in Boussé from Japan

This would never happen in California...

Weather in Burkina Faso

We arrived in Burkina Faso at the beginning of rainy season.  For the first two months here, the temperature on non-rainy days was almost always in the 90-100 degree Fahrenheit range with ranging humidity. I grew up in Northern California, so I know hot summers. But, it's a dry hot. And I could escape after 2 hours of soccer practice to the comfort of an air conditioned car and house. Nothing could prepare me for the amount of sweat I would produce on my first week in West Africa, alone. It's not that it's hot and I'm not used to humidity. There is absolutely no hiding from the heat. After about a week of being here I just stopped noticing my constant sweating. In the US, after sweating, we have this immediate desire to clean ourselves before we can meet people or be professional. I had to get over that real fast because if I practiced that here, I'd just never leave the shower room. I'm in a constant state of sweat. Electricity is incredibly expensive, so I'm very fortunate that my host dad brought a fan into my room my first night. Sometimes, it makes a world of a difference to help me sleep through the heat in my 90-degree room. Sometimes, it just blows warm air.

I have never appreciated rain as much as I appreciate it here. It cools the temperature at least 10 degrees and sometimes the new cool temperature lasts for the rest of the day. I'll never forget the first day it rained here in Léo. After a session, it was time for language class and I saw the group of language instructors walk over. Half of them were wearing layered coats with fur-trimmed hoods. It was probably 75 degrees, at the lowest. I was happy to stop sweating. They put on their jackets because they were cold.

There was a storm Friday morning morning. After it ended and I biked through the mud to teach my final lesson of model school, I passed a group of moms, with babies strapped to their backs, on their bikes heading to the market. I like to pretend these are the running stroller moms of Burkina Faso. Voilà groups of moms chatting while going somewhere; some things are just universal. Anyway, Friday morning, all of the babies had beanies on their heads and extra blankets around them. It was probably 75 degrees. This will never get old, it's too funny to me!

This is how women strap their babies to their back! I'm convinced this is why I rarely hear babies cry in Burkina...they have constant contact with their mothers and/or sisters!

Last week we had a series of days where it rained at least every single day or night. We had a few days in a row of 75-80 degree weather. It was beautiful. On one of the days, it was a little bit cooler than usual when the rain started again. I had just come home from a long day of sessions and a sweaty bike ride. My host dad told my mom to make sure she heated the water for my bucket bath and closed the back door because it was letting too much cold air in. I jumped up immediately and insisted that the back door was completely fine the way it was. The house could finally cool off! Every time it rains, I explain to my host family that this is the temperature in San Diego year-round. Well, that's cold to them. We always laugh it off. I'm happy when it's room temperature here and they're cold.

However, yesterday I actually got A CHILL during a rainstorm and put on a SWEATSHIRT after my nightly bucket bath. It was only 73 degrees. 10 weeks must be the mark for me to adjust to constant heat. Still can't believe I put a sweatshirt on. No, I'm not sick. ;)

Free Range Animals

A bunch of piglets live near the middle school and freely roam all over the grass between the buildings

Sheep cross the road. No herder in sight!

Burkina Faso hosts what is the definition of free range: sheep, goats, pigs, donkeys, chickens, you name it. They roam freely about the town in search of greens to graze or grub to devour in trash piles. And when I say free range, I mean free range. At the Peace Corps center, we'll be having a session under the hangar and then a chicken will casually walk through the legs of chairs in search of food goods. Sheep, goats, chickens and chicks and roosters will freely walk into my host family's courtyard in search of my family's donkey's lunch or the beautiful flowering bushes. My host mom gets pissed and shoos them away with a loud "ssss." I tried the "sss" once and it didn't work so well. I tried it again with an arm thrust pointing to the exit and they immediately left. So much pride. Another cultural gesture down.

A herding path outside of a hotel in my regional capital, Yako

Probably the funniest free range encounter was an evening last week. I don't know why these things always happen when I'm leaving the latrine to walk back to the house. But, I walk out in the pitch black darkness to find two, yes TWO, donkeys staring at me. WHAT the heck is going on! Where did you come from!?! I only had the mini light from my phone to see my path, so seeing those giant figures was definitely startling. My brother was outside and saw them at the same time and immediately started chasing the unwelcome donkey with rocks from his slingshot. What had been a typically calm evening became a spectacle within seconds. I've been here for 2 months, but I don't know when I'll get used to the stark contrasts of moments like that!

My host family's donkey after Saturday's rainstorm. Soaked!

Another animal encounter was a lot more casual between me and my host brother. We were sitting on the couches last night watching the news when we heard a thud near the bikes. It sounded like something fell or got bumped. My brother looked over the arm of his chair and dismissively said, "eh, mice." He said it in English before French, which I appreciated, but then he went straight back to watching the news. I went straight to my room. People freak out when there are snakes in or out of the house. But mice? Forget about it. "Harmless." Psh, no thank you! I plan to get a cat as soon as I get to my site.

The Catholic Mass in Burkina Faso

Most people in Burkina will say that the religious make-up is 50% Muslim, 50% Christian and 100% Animist (local traditional beliefs). Majority of the Christians here practice Catholicism, though there are also Protestant and Evangelical churches here, too.

Born, raised and confirmed Catholic, I was pleased to be placed in a Catholic host family, though I would've been happy to learn different cultural values in any host family. But, I have never felt like such a bad Catholic. My host brother and mom cross themselves every time before they eat. They know I'm Catholic, so I'm honestly surprised that they haven't stopped me each time I hungrily dive into my breakfast or dinner. Pray or not, they're going to make me serve myself first anyway. I've been with them for 8 weeks now, and it amazes me how I start to eat and then see my host dad pray to himself and I'm like DANGIT I forgot again. I'm an American volunteer in West Africa…I think God will forgive me. Hmmm…I haven't yet written about the Catholic Mass in Burkina, but I've totally been meaning to! It is absolutely beautiful, and hot and sweaty and claustrophobic and super long, but beautiful nevertheless!!

Me and my host mom at church!

French Mass

The first time I went to mass was my second weekend with my host family; the first weekend I was oblivious to the fact that the French mass was Saturday evening and I was hanging out with friends at the pool at the local hotel…such an oasis…but such a bad Catholic. Anyway, I went the next Saturday evening with my host brother, his cousin and my friend Meghan. We got there early and sat on the bench. I would not even call it a pew, it's just a hard wooden bench with minimal leg room and no back. The altar is setup like any other Catholic church's alter, with a cross, altar, tabernacle, priest's chair, etc. There's a beautiful mural on the wall with angels looking down over the congregation. I was absolutely shocked when I saw the sound system setup: they have large speakers, multiple microphones; they also have a keyboard and drum set for music. There are definitely some wealthier people who live in Léo, but it's also possible that they sound system was a donation from Europe. Who knows!

Catholic Church, Léo, Burkina Faso

People started to file in to sit down and to my horror I realized that I sat on the wrong side of the church…my friend Meghan and I were surrounded by men as we watched all of the women file into the right side of the church. My host brother just smiled back so I just told myself I'm going to stand out as the bright white nasara no matter where I sit, so I might as well stay. Well, good thing we stayed because the priest's homily was about the need for a change in family dynamics. Rough French translation: "How can you talk about empowerment of women and gender equity, and then sit on opposite sides of the church? It's stupid!" His statement caused a lot of nervous laughter, but his point was absolutely valid. People won't listen to the foreigner say that, but someone respected like a priest? Absolutely.    

The beautiful thing about the Catholic mass is that the order is EXACTLY the same throughout the world. It's my little piece of home in Burkina Faso. Well, I don't understand the mumbled French half of the time, but I catch names and phrases during the readings, which jar my memory enough that I can follow along. "May the grace of God be with you always…et avec votre esprit." The greetings and congregational responses are exactly the same. "Et avec votre esprit" directly translates to "And with your spirit." They say the penitential prayer, they sing the Nicene creed, the sing the Our Father, etc. The worst part is that I'm absolutely 100% lost during every single song because I can't catch a word they're singing. Okay, not every song. I sing as loud as I possibly can during the Hallelujah because that is the only universal word I can catch! It's beautiful though because the songs have African influence in the beat and execution and it's SO COOL. Women sway their hips and wave their arms, men and women clap their hands, sometimes a couple women will do their yodel scream thingy of which I don't know the name, and every single verse is sung…always. In the US, it's usually only a couple of verses so that the mass' duration doesn't exceed one hour.

During the offering, anyone who can make a donation walks to the front to drop in a coin. Well, that's one way to do it. Up until here, every mass I've been to utilizes ushers to go up and down the aisles to collect the money in baskets. Nope, if you don't make a donation here, it's obvious. Well, it's obvious if you're "le blanc" (the white). Thank goodness I had small coins. Meaghan and I followed my host brother up to the front and I had to let go the number of eyes watching me. Yes, it's a spectacle that there's a white person here, but haven't you ever heard that staring is rude? Probably not because people stare all the time. I'm just so glad that I had coins.

When it was time to receive the Eucharist, my host brother leaned over to ask if I was going to go up and I said, "yes, I'm Catholic." In the Catholic church, you're only supposed to receive the Eucharist (body of Christ) if you're not in a state of sin, to put it simply. So, really a majority of people, including myself if we're being honest, should not be taking the Eucharist because they haven't been to confession since breaking one of the Ten Commandments, or since performing other unholy things. One of these things includes not receiving the formation to take the Eucharist. Most baptized children take their first Eucharist in second grade in the US, and adults usually receive the sacraments of baptism and communion at the same time when they convert. Anyway, we saw a Peace Corps friend walk up with his host family and take the Eucharist. He's Jewish. It's fine. Meaghan and I thought it was funny. It's not like lightning is going to strike down on him. There's a language, cultural and religious barrier here for a lot of us, so it's completely understandable that he had no idea he wasn't supposed to receive the communion.

The mass ended up taking about 90 minutes, which isn't bad at all. But, it started raining at the end of the service, so I walked back home in the dark with my host brother and to my host mom's horror, Meaghan rode her bike home in the mini storm. She asked about 3 times if Meaghan had made it home safe, yet. Our host parents are so concerned with our safety here. It's frustrating at times to be treated like a child, but comforting to know they're just as concerned with out safety as Peace Corps requires.

Stone benches act as overflow seating, or seating for mothers and fussy infants, outside the church.

La Grotte de Vierge Marie - The Cave of Virgin Mary
Before people go in the church, they often bow and/or cross themselves in front of the Virgin Mary

Summer Mass

During the summer, the French and Mooré masses are combined since a lot of the priests travel to Europe for formation. So, lately I've been going to the 7:30am mass with my host mom and brother. Well, not only do I still not understand the songs, I don't understand the half of the mass that's in Mooré. Probably the most unbearable part is once the end of the second hour hits and I'm sweaty and thirsty and antsy from sitting in the same spot and they read 10-15 minutes of weekly announcements in French. Then they read them in Mooré. Oh, then they also read them in Léo's local language, Nuni. Holy moly. But, ever since I've started local language classes, I've been able to pick up some of the words, though I can't comprehend the context.

After mass, everyone walks around to greet and socialize with each other.

Who knows what the Catholic Church at my site will be like!

Peace Corps Ebola Update

Here's an e-mail that was sent to our Peace Corps staff and then forwarded to us:

"There has been a resurgence of cases in Liberia, Sierra Leone and Guinea. Peace Corps HQ made the decision to evacuate all the volunteers in those countries as of July 30th. Two volunteers are isolated after being in contact with a person who reportedly died from ebola but are not showing any signs or symptoms of the disease. 

There have been no cases in Burkina Faso reported.

Remember - Transmission is through bodily fluids: urine, sweat, blood, stool, semen. Prevention is to not touch anyone who looks ill (not just sniffles, they will look very ill) AND do not handle or help with deceased persons. If you are a health care volunteer you should never be participating in clinical activities that involve touching any patient - this includes weighing babies (a major activity in Burkinabe villages). 

The initial symptoms of ebola are fever, diarrhea and vomiting. Although you may experience these symptoms with many diseases, they key in ebola is that it will not occur in isolation; many others in your village will also be sick. Be aware of your surroundings and let the [Peace Corps Burkina doctor] know if you notice any trends in your communities.

For more information on ebola, please visit http://www.cdc.gov/vhf/ebola/

This outbreak is something that we, Peace Corps HQ, the US State Department, and CDC are closely monitoring and having regular discussions about. There are still no confirmed cases in any countries that border Burkina Faso, and the present risk for us here is still low."

"WHO Director-General Margaret Chan will meet in Conakry, Guinea on Friday with the presidents of affected West African nations, the United Nations health agency said in a statement."
http://www.cbc.ca/news/world/ebola-outbreak-who-launching-100m-plan-as-death-toll-tops-700-1.2723455

My Host Family's Home

My Room

Le balai

I'm usually only in my bedroom for sleeping because it gets pretty hot in there during the day. Electricity is very expensive here and my host dad was nice enough to give me a fan, so I try to only use it when I'm sleeping. It makes a HUGE difference in my quality of sleep. It also works as fantastic white noise during loud thunderstorms. The floor is concrete throughout the house, so I always wear flip flops. My door is about 2 inches off of the ground, so it is not rare for me to see bugs in my room once in a while. I sleep under a mosquito net, so I don't worry about them then. It's the surprise 6-inch black beetle on my curtains that makes me jump and go grab my host brother for assistance. He's a 14-year-old boy. Bugs don't bother him. Anyway, I had my first sweeping experience after about 10 days in the house and now I understand why it's good to sweep every couple days here. A lot of dirt gets tracked in, in addition to bugs that die from eating my bug spray (I sprayed my room and then left for the day, as recommended by Peace Corps). The sweeping device here is the "balai" (buh-lay) which is only about one foot long. Talk about a good exercise for your back!

Shower

My host family does not have running water, so I take bucket baths twice daily: immediately upon awaking and again before dining. Whenever it's around the time for me to shower, I'll hear a thud of a bucket outside my door saying, "hint hint, take your shower." I grab my shower items from in my room, grab the bucket full of water outside my door and take a few steps to the other side of the hallway to the shower area. To take a bucket bath, I use my 12 oz. plastic cup to scoop up water and pretend it's a transient showerhead. It seriously saves so much water. Want to lower your water bills? Consider switching to bucket baths. Or turn off the shower when you're washing your hair, shaving, etc.

Latrine

Sorry if you wanted me to leave a little mystery, but I warned you that I would keep it real on this blog. Here's my toilet for the next 8 weeks. Some restaurants have toilets, but most places don't have running water and thus provide a hole in the ground. Usually the surrounding walls are only about 4 ft high and the area is home to flies having a party. I'm EXTREMELY fortunate that my host parents keep their latrine clean. I don't know what they do, but there are less flies in this outside latrine area than most gas station restrooms. I'll be sure to learn their ways so I can keep mine this nice at my future site.

Burkina Faso shower area

Burkina Faso Latrine

Courtyard

Chez Moi - My host mom came out the door just as I took the picture!

Voila my host family's stunning courtyard. Doesn't scream Africa? I know. Flowers mean bugs, especially mosquitos, so  seeing flowers is rare. Want a pretty yard? You're going to have to find another way in malaria-infested West Africa. So, am I safe here? Yes, of course. Peace Corps wouldn't allow a trainee to stay someone that isn't safe. I take malarial prophylaxis everyday and though mosquitos are definitely present, they don't seem to be too much of an issue here in Leo. As for my host family, I have no idea if they also take malarial pills. They're definitely wealthy by Burkina standards, but I don't know what their healthcare is like. 

My host parents' nursery

My host dad is a retired electrician, but I think he still makes a living by growing/selling/planting baby trees. Within my first few days living there I asked him if he sells the plants and he said no. Maybe he misunderstood my question, thanks a lot language barrier, but I don't really know.

On particularly hot days, it's probably about a 15-20 degree Fahrenheit difference under the large tree (below) than outside and probably a larger difference compared to the house. It gets so hot in my room that sometimes my liquid makeup sounds like water when I shake the container (P.S. at this point, most of us girls have stopped wearing make-up, it's wonderful). This is also the tree under which I do my laundry ever Sunday morning. If it's too hot inside during a soccer match, sometimes I'll go sit under the tree and right letters, journal and/or do homework. I call moments like these "Peace Corps moments." There are certain expectations that a lot of us have coming into Peace Corps, and sitting under a mango tree writing a letter is definitely a #peacecorpsmoment.

My brother (right) and his friend staying cool under the tree.

Donkey (left), latrine (center), cactus (right)

My host family has a donkey, but I have never seen him in use. They don't have a farm, so I don't know why they have a donkey. Maybe he was a gift. I need to figure this out. He stands there tied to a tree all day, every day. My room is right next to the back door of the house, which has a direct route to the latrine. So, I pass him every day on my way from my room to the latrine. If he's feeling especially sassy, he'll follow me toward the latrine (square walled area in middle of picture) so that my exit is blocked when I am finished. If he's in a particularly bad mood, he'll back himself up so that his rear end is facing my escape. This immediately becomes a game of dodge the donkey kick. So far, I'm winning, but I'm well aware that one of these days he'll throw some kicks when I least expect them. If I feel like pushing my luck outside of the dodging games, I pet him on the nose. After about the third stroke he decides it's time to snap at my hand, so I stop. We have a love-hate relationship. At least it's mutual. ;)

Family Space with TV

The chair on the far left is where I eat all of my meals.

I played recreational and competitive soccer from ages 5-15, but I never got into watching professional soccer on tv. I've watched so many soccer matches in the past 3 weeks that I now accidentally call it football during conversation. It seems as my French fluency increases, my conversational English decreases. I've just come to terms with speaking Franglais at this point. All of our classes are instructed by locals following Peace Corps procedures from Washington DC. So, even though I'll be in a cultural, technical or safety course, half of the material is delivered in French. I wake up thinking in French. Just wait until I learn third and fourth languages here. My head might explode.

Well, that was quite the tangent. The whole point about me talking about football was that I watch it every night with my host father and brother. It doesn't matter which continent is playing, I have seen majority of the matches. I come home from the training center, take a bucket bath, then bring my homework out to watch the game and socialize. Okay, let's be real, the socializing consists of me and my host brother making "ooo" noises at the tv whenever there's a collision or goal or whatever. My host family always has "my chair" ready for me and facing the tv. Since it's the best seat in the house for watching the tv, the cushion of the chair has completely lost its integrity. The wooden bar is pushing through my tailbone as we speak. But, if I move anywhere else, they will insist that I move back. The only time they don't say anything is when I make a note of how many insects are bothering me. As you can see in the photo, the tv is pretty close to the front doors of the house, which are always open. At this point, I'm used to casually flicking off small flying African beetles that land on me.

GO AFRICA. But seriously, the entire continent is united in supporting any African team to win. It's pretty amazing. My host brother woke up at 1:30am with his dad to watch the Cote d'Ivoire (Ivory Coast) game one night. Cote d'Ivoire is next to Burkina Faso and so is Ghana, so those games are more exciting for my host brother since he knows a fair amount about the countries from school. Unfortunately I haven't seen either of the USA matches because they always start at 10pm here and I'm passed out asleep by then. The morning after the USA v Ghana match I was expecting the usual morning update from my host dad about who won the match because he always gives me the update each morning. He said nothing. I assumed USA won, and sure enough we had! I'm currently watching the Brasil v Cameroon match. I really want Cameroon to win because one of our Peace Corps physicians was born in Cameroon and he is hands down the funniest professional I have ever met. Also, he hands out chocolate during all of his lectures. I'll talk more about him another time.