I have never seen so many sheep in my life.
Tabaski, the second major Muslim holiday of our little stay in Senegal, is fast approaching. On Saturday, every head of household kills a sheep, and the women gut it, grill it, and serve it with onions. I'm not quite sure why people celebrate Tabaski at the end of November, but it seems that at every major occurence (baptisms, weddings, etc.) a sheep dies.
Currently, two sheep reside on our rooftop. In early morning, one can hear them bahh-ing for dear life. I have yet to climb up to the roof since we bought them, but I'm not quite sure I want to see them until just before the slaughter. As an American, our meat only comes in plastic-wrapped post-slaughter form, so there is no real association between our meal and the animal it once was.
And...I"m being kicked out of the computer lab.