Yesterday passed the Eid Al-Kabir, lit. Big Holiday, for the entire Arab world. The holiday comes two months after Ramadan ends, and it symbolizes the sacrifice that Ambraham was going to make for God. The story is mostly the same in the Jewish, Christian, and Islamic traditions except for the son to be sacrificed. The Jews and Christians say it was Isaac while the Muslims say it was Ishmael. Either way, the story is meant to emphasize the obdience of Abraham, and the holiday emphasizes the need for all to follow in his footsteps. However, as with all religious holidays and practice, the primary meaning and the execution of it are all very different.
In order to follow in the footsteps of Abraham, every Muslim family is supposed to sacrifice a sheep on the Eid. The day is similar to the Christian Christmas in the sense that the entire country comes to a stop–presents are given and money is spent where it has not been earned. The week leading up to the Eid, it became clear that Moroccans were getting more and more stressed about this very large holiday. Eid-begging is very common, and most people started off with “please give me money so that my family can buy a sheep.” Normal street-side vendors, who usually sell off-brand clothing and random house goods, had an overabundance of kinves and cleaning tools. Marjane (the hyper market) had set up a large tent to sell sheep, and they were even going to give away 100 sheep on the Eid. (The tradition is that a family that is weathy enough should buy two sheep and give one to another less fortunate family, but I did not hear of a single person doing that.)
If you can’t tell my tone is a little cynical about the holiday. Although I understand the importance in the Muslim tradition, it is hard for me to get behind anything that sanctifies the mass-killing of any animal. Furthermore, it only emphasizes which families are wealthy and which ones are not. My parking attendant had a goat in the back of his little truck, and all I could think was, “He must not have enough money for a sheep.” I actually felt bad for him. Normally, I try not to think in terms of wealth because then I feel overly responsible due to my converted income, but it is hard not to when such importance and pride is placed on the owning of a sheep.
My landlord invited me over to his house to watch the sacrifice and partake in the internal organs of their sheep.We watched the sheep meet it’s maker, and we laughed along with the family as the skinning process took place. Laughter was about the only emotion we could stomach between the river of blood and frying organs. We stomached it all not really because we agreed in it, but because we love our landlords and we wanted to respect their holiday.
There is something poetic about the concept that everyone that believes what you do is doing the same thing on the same day as you. It is as if action transcends locality and all people are one even if for only a short time and only with the words bismillah, in the name of God. In that moment all are equal, and the brother in the Nation of Islam, the royal Saudi Family, and Atlas Berber village are together as one. This is the beauty of Islam, the interconnectedness of it. There is something sacred in the unity, and even though I don’t always understand the impetus behind organized religion, I can respect any faith that strives for such connection and brotherhood.
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