The Festival

For breakfast the next morning, I was charged with feeding the baby sheep, as I chose not to eat the head. It is cut into bits and steamed. The brain is then scooped out and tajined, but I missed this meal as I went out to watch the festival. But first, it was time to eat. A tajine, beautifully prepared with prunes and almonds.

The festival. Not quite what I was expecting. A hoard of men from the village dress up and travel from door to door asking for money for the village. They have the younger men dressed up in black, chasing people and whacking them to get money. I did get whacked. The older men have a range of costumes and instruments. By far the most disgusting is Goat Man.

Whilst the sheep are being massacred for the Eid, a few goats around town are secretly killed also. Their skins are collected, and then the men strap them on for their journey around town. Freshly skinned, they smell putrid. They also attach two hooves to their arm, so when they go in for that hug the hooves are right there on you. One of the goat men chased me – much to the amusement of … the WHOLE village. Hooray for being a tourist – I did want excitement.

Enough excitement for one day (and my hands were so frozen I couldn’t take any more photos), so back to the house for… more meat. More tajine and some boiled meat. Again just stuck mostly with the bread, but I think they were on to me – monitoring every bite… Managed to sneak in an orange after the meal to help digest the lung still sitting next to my own.