Tobaski can be described as the Islamic Christmas, it is the biggest celebration in The Gambia. A time for families to come together and feast on mutton.
Tobaski is based on the bible story of Abraham being asked by God to sacrifice his only son. Abraham spoke to his wife and son and all agreed his son should be sacrificed if it is God's wish. On the morning of the sacrifice, Abraham sharpened his knife to ensure the slitting of his son's throat would be swift. As he was about to kill his son, angel Gabrielle came down with a ram to kill instead. Araham and his family proved their faith in God and were rewarded with the saving of their son.
I felt it was important that I was involved in Tobaski with my Gambian friends. Transport was difficult from the coast and I managed to get a ride on an open truck with 100 people and a few rams which were by my feet. We spent 7 hours standing going through the dry, dusty and bumpy road to Soma. I thought it was brilliant, as the people on the truck were friendly and made sure I was fine. I arrived covered in dust and had to wash my hair in a bucket a few times, but grateful I managed to get a ride back due to the friendliness of some Gambians.
The day before Tobaski I visited families in Soma and surrounding villages, I then travelled across on the ferry and rode my motorbike to another colleagues house. Here i spent 2 nights with his family. The day of Tobaski included morning prayers where men and children go to the mosque, ladies of course are prohibited from this. I helped peel vegetables with his wife and eldest daughter.
The family and I then spent the next hour slitting the rams throat, skinnng it, taking out its insides and cutting it up. It was a great experience and the kids loved it. What I find so beautiful is that around a fifth of the ram is given to the 'poor people'. A conversation I had with another guy at work explained that the ram meat is shared with the 'poor people' who can not afford a ram or goat, this practice is part of the islamic faith. What I found so humbling is that my work buddy is only paid $40.00 US a month, and yet what little they have they share with others less fortunate.
I then travelled around the village with my colleague greeting people in their homes, all were involved in cooking mutton meat. I did this again in the evening with his wife. People we met spoke either Mandinka, French (as near Senegal border and Senegalese are french speaking), Wolof(another west african language) and English (to my relief).
The rest of the day was spent sitting and watching the family grill and eat meat and conversation. Dinner consisted of shared food bowl with rams head, small intestines, meat and this dry cous cous soaked in ram meat juices. Luckily my colleague knew I don't eat red meat so I had some of the cous and potato.
Later in the evening I rode my motorbike 5 km to meet an american friend, he was with a family too. We just hung out in a tin shed bar. As always I have another lost story...around 11.15pm, on the way back to my Gambian friend's house, which is only 2km from the seneagalise border, i got very confused. I had the right turn off but once inside all dirt streets and houses looked the same. I wasn't scared as knew I would get there eventually and asked lots of people and directions ranged from.. turn left at the mango tree, next junction right, then left etc.. Finally had to give my phone to a Gambian man who spoke to my colleague and he walked with me for 30 minutes as i putted on my motorbike. But once again, everyone very friendly and willing to help the lost 'toubab' (white person).
Next day I rode to another gambian friends place, and sat around outside and drank more attyre while the kids all dressed up and walked around the village saying “selloboo”, this is a bit like trick or treat, the kids are given a couple of coins and they love it. Most are wearing brand new outfits and look gorgeous. All the kids around my friends house know me and call out 'Aja' (my gambian name) and some young girls just sit and hold my hand, so cute.
Tobaski is based on the bible story of Abraham being asked by God to sacrifice his only son. Abraham spoke to his wife and son and all agreed his son should be sacrificed if it is God's wish. On the morning of the sacrifice, Abraham sharpened his knife to ensure the slitting of his son's throat would be swift. As he was about to kill his son, angel Gabrielle came down with a ram to kill instead. Araham and his family proved their faith in God and were rewarded with the saving of their son.
I felt it was important that I was involved in Tobaski with my Gambian friends. Transport was difficult from the coast and I managed to get a ride on an open truck with 100 people and a few rams which were by my feet. We spent 7 hours standing going through the dry, dusty and bumpy road to Soma. I thought it was brilliant, as the people on the truck were friendly and made sure I was fine. I arrived covered in dust and had to wash my hair in a bucket a few times, but grateful I managed to get a ride back due to the friendliness of some Gambians.
The day before Tobaski I visited families in Soma and surrounding villages, I then travelled across on the ferry and rode my motorbike to another colleagues house. Here i spent 2 nights with his family. The day of Tobaski included morning prayers where men and children go to the mosque, ladies of course are prohibited from this. I helped peel vegetables with his wife and eldest daughter.
The family and I then spent the next hour slitting the rams throat, skinnng it, taking out its insides and cutting it up. It was a great experience and the kids loved it. What I find so beautiful is that around a fifth of the ram is given to the 'poor people'. A conversation I had with another guy at work explained that the ram meat is shared with the 'poor people' who can not afford a ram or goat, this practice is part of the islamic faith. What I found so humbling is that my work buddy is only paid $40.00 US a month, and yet what little they have they share with others less fortunate.
I then travelled around the village with my colleague greeting people in their homes, all were involved in cooking mutton meat. I did this again in the evening with his wife. People we met spoke either Mandinka, French (as near Senegal border and Senegalese are french speaking), Wolof(another west african language) and English (to my relief).
The rest of the day was spent sitting and watching the family grill and eat meat and conversation. Dinner consisted of shared food bowl with rams head, small intestines, meat and this dry cous cous soaked in ram meat juices. Luckily my colleague knew I don't eat red meat so I had some of the cous and potato.
Later in the evening I rode my motorbike 5 km to meet an american friend, he was with a family too. We just hung out in a tin shed bar. As always I have another lost story...around 11.15pm, on the way back to my Gambian friend's house, which is only 2km from the seneagalise border, i got very confused. I had the right turn off but once inside all dirt streets and houses looked the same. I wasn't scared as knew I would get there eventually and asked lots of people and directions ranged from.. turn left at the mango tree, next junction right, then left etc.. Finally had to give my phone to a Gambian man who spoke to my colleague and he walked with me for 30 minutes as i putted on my motorbike. But once again, everyone very friendly and willing to help the lost 'toubab' (white person).
Next day I rode to another gambian friends place, and sat around outside and drank more attyre while the kids all dressed up and walked around the village saying “selloboo”, this is a bit like trick or treat, the kids are given a couple of coins and they love it. Most are wearing brand new outfits and look gorgeous. All the kids around my friends house know me and call out 'Aja' (my gambian name) and some young girls just sit and hold my hand, so cute.
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