After our early Thanksgiving in Kaolack, we all headed straight back to site in order to celebrate Tabaski with our families. Tabaski, also known as Eid al-Adha or “Festival of Sacrifice”, commemorates the willingness of Ibrahim to sacrifice his son Ishmael (or Abraham and Issac according to Christianity) in obedience to God. As I’m sure most of you know, at the last minute God spared Ishmael and provided a ram to be sacrificed in his place. Every year, approximately two months and ten days after the end of Ramadan, Muslims around the world celebrate this event by slaughtering a sheep and sharing it with friends, family and the less fortunate.
This year, Tabaski fell on November 28. So when I returned home from Thanksgiving, preparations for the holiday were in full swing. Every year when Tabaski rolls around, everyone in Senegal who can possibly afford it (and many who can’t) prepare by buying a sheep to kill, getting their hair done (for the women), having new clothes made, etc. In the week leading up to Tabaski all of the tailors at the market in Nioro were working practically 24 hours a day in an effort to get the clothes done in time. Also, travel in the days before Tabaski is a complete nightmare as everyone is rushing home from the cities to their villages to celebrate with family.
Well in honor of this being my first Tabaski with my family, I decided to show my support by going all out on the preparations. First up, new clothes… I wasn’t about to plunk down 20,000 CFA to have another complet made, but I did buy some wax (a type of fabric that most closely resembles the stereotype of African dress) to get a dress made. Before heading up to Kaolack for Thanksgiving I went to the tailor to pick it up and ohhhh man. I looked like a clown. Sleeves puffed out like crazy, way too big for me…it was not good. Thankfully, the tailor didn’t give me a hard time when I came back with a laundry list of changes to be made. In the end it turned out alright, but I just don’t think white girls with red hair are really meant to wear head to toe African prints, haha.
Next up, hair braiding. I had my hair braided by a Senegalese woman once before when I was 15 and it hurt soooo badly. In spite of this painful memory, I decided to give it a try again because my family seemed really excited about it. So I sat down in front of my Yaay, gritted my teeth and hoped for the best. At first it barely hurt so I figured I must’ve toughened up since the age of 15 and this wasn’t going to be so bad. WRONG. The only reason it didn’t hurt at first is because my Yaay wasn’t used to my hair. Well let me assure you that by braid 3 or 4 she had “mastered it” and I was screwing my eyes shut in pain. And this was only the beginning…I still had well over ¾ of my head to go. It was too late to turn back though, so I sat there for the next hour or so trying not to let her see how much it felt like my scalp was being ripped off and slowly telling myself, “Ok, only three more to go. Two more. One more!” Woo, and I’m done! Not so fast, Elizabeth…
I thought I was done, but my Yaay, being a bit of a perfectionist, finished the last braid and then decided that she should redo the first FIVE because they weren’t tight enough. OW OW OW! Another twenty minutes later and I was finally free to get up and survey the damage. A – I think I lost about a ¼ of my hair in the process because it was absolutely everywhere. B – cornrows are not a good look for me. Shocking, I know. Oh well, everyone seemed genuinely excited that I got my hair braided so I suppose it was worth it. I’m not so sure I’ll be signing up for that again next year though.
And the final part of my transformation into a Senegalese woman for the big day…henna. My Aunt Dekhady did it for me on my fingers and toes. Unlike with Indian henna where they make intricate designs on the skin, in Senegal, its typically used more like nail polish. I didn’t leave it on quite as long as my Aunt told me to, but it’s a good thing I took it off when I did. Unsurprisingly, the vibrant orange shows up a whole lot more distinctly on my skin than on the Senegalese. So now, almost a month later, the color has finally started to fade from the skin around my fingers and toes but I’m still going to be sporting some major Illini pride on my nails for probably several months to come.
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