Id al Fitr

If you've seen any of my pictures on Facebook, you'll see some fun ones from the end of August, Sean is wearing a long white cassock and I am in a long purple gown with my head wrapped like a hijab. We were, in fact, dressing for the occasion because our friends were celebrating the Muslim holiday of Id al Fitr. The holiday was in the middle of the week and because it was a national holiday, we were off of school that day. As many of my friends explained, this siku kuu (special day) is comparable to the holiday of Christmas for Christians; it is a very important day when Muslims have finished their fast of Ramadan and now celebrate by cooking a feast (and giving gifts, I think!). We've spent some time with this family before school started, and their daughter Nasrah is our student. Mama and Baba Nasrah invited Sean, David, and I to their Id celebration, which was very exciting for me to witness the colorful celebration of the Islam faith! David also wore his cassock, brought from his home in Uganda (it is a traditional Ugandan wear for celebrations).

We hadn't been to their home for a few months, so when we arrived the first thing we did was check around their compound to see the “new additions.” Both Mama and Baba Nasrah are very bright business people, and they keep thousands of chickens (egg-layers) and quite a few cattle to add to their business profits. They added a new chicken home and a few hundred chickens since the last time we visited. They also had a new baby cow, appropriately named 'Ramadhan' for his birth was during the fast. It is quite the sight to see!

We entered their house and were served some freshly made juice (passion, mango, avocado, etc.). Delicious! My favorite part of the day came next – two of their “priests” (I think Muslim superiors are also called priests) came over to say a prayer for the deceased. Nasrah's aunt wrote up a list of the people they wished to pray for, and the two men started singing in Arabic, lighting an incense-type thing, and the rest of the family chanted along. It was absolutely beautiful watching this happen and hearing the unfamiliar words. Remarkably, the whole experience wasn't too far from something we'd do at a Catholic Church though – lighting incense, naming each of the deceased and chanting songs to invoke God's blessings upon them.

The rest of the day included feasting on chips (fried potatoes), kachumbali (fresh veggie salad), pilau na bata (spiced rice with duck), ngegere (peas in tomato coconut sauce), and lots of sodas. They laughed and loved our attire, and remarked on my fresh coat of henna on my nails (many Muslims here die their fingernails with henna, but so do many other Tanzanians!). I did my best to dress for the special day! After eating and drinking loads (no beer – Muslims don't typically drink alcohol), Nasrah's family drove us back to our home, a bag full of eggs in hand as a zawadi (gift). It was exactly how I love to spend a day off.