Reflections on Tabaski

I was able to avoid eating sheep during the Tabaski festivities, despite my visits to people’s houses and celebrations I attended. I even managed to avoid eating Otman’s specialty dish of testicles and kidneys in eggs. The only thing that saved me is my body’s inability to digest eggs…

One aspect of Tabaski that I had completely forgotten how beautiful everyone looks in their boubous. Boubous are floor-length or calf-length dresses that are usually long sleeved and worn with pants for men and skirts for women. They are large, airy, and regal. On the whole, Senegalese people dress much better than Americans. They take care to wear nice clothing and look their best especially when leaving the house. However, holidays are the moment when people wear their nicest clothing and get special boubous made out of the nicest fabric, which is called “bazan.” Bazan is a fabric that shines in the light and is solid bright color. There is a subtle pattern throughout the fabric that is only visible up close. Men and women wear the fabric. Colors are not gender based, men wear purple boubous made out of bazan, as well as blue, brown, green, etc. White is only worn by people who have been to Mecca, it is a status symbol and these folks are treated with reverence.

Right before the morning prayers I went to purchase fruit at a market just outside of the downtown area. Men, older women, and young boys were making their way to the mosque. It was an incredible sight to see everyone wearing boubous, since most people, especially the younger generations, generally wear jeans, tee shirts, and other “western” apparel. The colors were so vivid. It was a sea of bright blues, oranges, greens, purples, grays, browns, and pinks. Fathers’, holding prayer rugs under one arm and their son’s hand in the other, was touching. The sons were usually dresses in the same color boubou, while their father wore another color. Women, past menopause, were also headed to the local mosques. Their enormous boubous flapping as they carefully walked in their heeled pointy-toed mules. Their heads wrapped in fabric matching their boubous. Fewer women than men, they stuck out, providing contrast to the sea of colors.

I watched as people walked leisurely toward the mosque, greeting friends and neighbors, wishing everyone a “bonne fete” and apologizing for any wrong-doing they may have unknowingly done (a typical way to greet people during any Seneaglese holiday).

Below are photos from Tabaski. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to take pictures of people walking
to the mosque.

Little Morocco



Chez Awa