It's the Big One!

Yes the Eid el Kbir is almost here and every family is getting ready for the big day.

The Eid el Kbir is in celebration of the Old Testament story when God asked Abraham (Ibrahim) to prove his faith by sacrificing his son. At the last minute Ismail gets a reprieve and God allows a sheep (or goat) to take his place. Later it is Abraham and Ismail who erect the Kaaba at Mecca where people could gather and worship and then later still Mohamed made the first pilgrimage there in 628. The Eid is celebrated about 70 days after the end of Ramadan, when the Muslims making the annual pilgrimage come back into Mecca after climbing Mount Arafat.

The nearer we get to the Eid the more frantic the weekly souks become as everybody tries to make sure that they get the best, fattest sheep for the smallest price. If you have the space you buy your sheep ahead of time, take it home and feed it all your vegetable peelings and maybe some hay bought specially for the purpose. If not, you have to do battle in the days before the Eid, hoping that you will get a worthy beast.

In the weeks leading up to the Eid, as you walk down normally quiet suburban streets you could be forgiven for thinking you have been transported into the countryside as the patter of hooves and faint bleating is heard from every rooftop and patio. The unsuspecting sheep (always male) becomes part of the family for a week or two before he gets to play his part in the great nationwide re-enactment of the sacrifice of Ibrahim. He soon settles in to the family routine and (unless he is particularly bad tempered) is played with by the children.

On the morning of the Eid, when the sheep’s throat is cut, all the family are there to witness this act. I do find this a little difficult and I suspect I am not the only one, though most Moroccans are quite blasé about the killing. However Ido I eat meat - and enjoy eating it.

In the west we are too often without thought of the animals that we eat. It is very easy not to associate the meat with the animal - meat arrives in the house cut into slabs and wrapped in plastic - and this means that there is often no consideration given to the life and death of the animal. This is not the case in Morocco where meat is bought from butchers where the carcasses of sheep and cows are hung ready for inspection by the customers and chickens bought while they are still squawking. I cope with this (despite my western squeamishness) because I believe that it is important to treat animals with respect and care and then eat them with enjoyment.

Fortunately I am quite a good judge of sheep, knowing where to prod and poke to check that there is meat under all the wool – which is jolly useful at this time of year.

On the Beach

This week I have been visiting Agadir with some friends. Agadir has long been famous as a beach resort with almost guaranteed sunshine all year round, but it has been quietly undergoing a renaissance into a chic tourist resort for adults seeking luxury and indulgence.

Agadir has ancient roots, existing as a fishing port until occupied and fortified by the Portuguese at the beginning of the 16^th century (the name Agadir is Berber for Walled Town). It is still a major fishing port – the largest sardine port in the world – and the fish market and restaurants around it are an important part of the tourist experience.

Agadir was the site of a catastrophe when, on 29^th February 1960, a 15 second earthquake destroyed almost all of the existing town , killed around 15,000 people and left 50,000 homeless. Until recent years you could still see the evidence of this in the self built shacks that became almost permanent homes to many survivors. The other evidence is the almost total lack of old, traditional style building and the presence of modern (well 60’s) architecture. Streets are wide and built with the car (and the tourist) in mind, and there are hotels galore.

Despite the inauspicious start and the initial feeling that you are not in fact in Morocco but in the south of Spain, Agadir can grow on you. It is still Morocco and the Moroccan people are as welcoming here as they are anywhere. The Tourist Police – patrolling the beach on lovely Berber Arab stallions or the promenade on Segways – make sure that there is not too much in the way of hassle and there are even men employed to pick up litter!

The beach is tremendous, over 10 km of golden sand, but add to this an elegant promenade planted with palm trees and edged in marble, daily sunshine and a good range of restaurants and you will start to understand the attraction. Once the newly upgraded road from Marrakech is complete I can see myself making trips south to the beach on a regular basis.

It is hard to imagine two cities in the same country as different from each other as Agadir and Marrakech are - but as the French say “Vive la difference!”