One good size sheep (according to hefting and prodding) was being traded for between 1000 and 3000 dirham ($150 - $450 AUD), and so, every family was spending the week in search of the prize sheep to coax home on the end of a rope, carry on the side of a donkey, stuff into the boot of a 123 Mercedes or piggy back over the shoulder of a strong young man.
The closer we got to Eid the sheep seemed to know their doom and put up more of a protest. Some street scenes were quite humorous if not for the thought of the final result.
Three days before Eid we made it into Fez (Sat Navs are not so reliable in North Africa so we are relying on primitive maps and helpful bystanders). Here, we encountered the first serious rain for us in 6 months. Luckily though, we are staying in a spacious Riad right in the centre of the Medina above the hubbub of the market and surrounded by families living a centuries-old lifestyle. The locals were so pleased about the rain as it was perfect timing for their crops and a heavy fall for 2 days was a fortuitous answer to many prayers to Allah.
Eid al-Adha is the ‘Festival of Sacrifice’ and commemorates Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son Ishmael as an act of obedience to God, before God intervened to provide him with a sheep to sacrifice instead.
After 3 days of exploring the streets and alleyways of Fez in the wet and mud the day of Eid arrived and so did the sunshine. We woke to a perfect day of crystal clear skies and the sounds of bleating coming from the rooftops. The butchers were kept busy riding their painted horses from riad to riad as their tunics became blood-soaked and their voices sang out in hoarse chants. All the shops were closed and the streets were unnaturally empty apart from the occasional gathering of young men and boys barbecuing the most gruesome parts of the sheep on open pits in the streets. Carts of whole sheep fleeces were being taken to the tannery and knives were being sharpened on grinding stones at front doors.
We thought we’d take this opportunity to let the girls catch up on school work while the people celebrated with their families.
Charlotte moved to the rooftop to get better internet connection and not long after the teenage girl who had been sitting on the next door terrace watching the world below struck up a conversation with her. Charlotte and Maisy were whisked away into another world for half a day where Lameia, the 15 year old girl visiting her grandmother for Eid, enchanted them with stories of her family and visits to grandma's kitchen. In the evening we walked around the Medina with Lameia and noticed how brave Charlotte had become in the company of this confident young girl whose third language was English. 
Charlotte and Maisy were invited next door for the celebratory dinner and Charlotte left whispering, “I just can’t eat the poor sheep."
Fortuitouslee.
Eid
Lameia lead us down the backalley to her grandma’s house. When we stepped in the door we were transferred into a COMPLETEY different world from what we had ever experienced. We walked in the door and right in front of us was a lady cutting up and cooking the sheep that we saw walking around and baaing this morning. We walked up stairs and Lameia showed us where the other poor, dead sheep were hanging upside-down, skinned and with parts of their insides hanging out. That was when I decided that I was NEVER EVER going to eat sheep or goat again. I thought it was really very cruel. We sat down with her family around a tiny table and drank sickly sweet mint tea. Then the Bollywood dancing came on the TV and Lameia's cute 2 year old neice, Weisa started dancing, which then lead to Lameia dancing and then before we knew it Maisy and I were being pulled up to dance with them. The mother's of Lameia and Weisa were singing out so loud in Arabic it was crazy. The dance also included a big shake of the hair. Lameia had hair that reached down to her waist and everyone loved to watch her. On the other hand everyone laughed so much when little Weisa tried to do it and almost fell over, luckily she has a fair few more years to practice before she could dance on stage. We then went up the rock stairs and to the terrace. The terrace had a crumbly knee high wall which was meant to prevent you from falling at least 8 metres onto the medina alleyway below. It was pretty scary but you just couldn't help leaning over and seeing what was happening on the streets below.
We then went onto the street where we hung out with Lameia’s older brother who had a motorbike. Then Lameia took off holding both of our hands and we ran through the alleyways. We finally came to a halt down a narrow alley standing right in front of a cardboard box. When Maisy looked inside we could see that it was a home for about 10 tiny little kittens. They were all sooooooo cute. I wish I was allowed to take them home with me.
It was then time to go back to ours. Dinner was on the table, roast chicken and vegetables. Just as I had my first few mouthfuls of mum's delicious dinner the door bell rung. It was Lameia’s cousin, and she said they were just about to have their dinner and we were invited. So we were off again and back to hers. First of all there were lamb skewers and mushy vegetables. No one spoke much English and they obviously didn’t understand when I said I didn’t like to eat sheep. Lameia’s dad sat down next to me and fed me the first lump of meat by hand. It was all gristle and there was no way I was going to eat it so I had to store it in my cheeks like a squirrel and just said ‘no thank you’ to the next piece. Then a big lamb tagine came out. I stuck with my 'no thankyou' but my delightful little sister Maisy kept saying as loud as possible “Charlotte, you haven’t had anything to eat yet!” and they could somehow all understand that and tried to feed me more. So after 30 minutes, I decided it would be time to go. I tried to tell them that our dinner was getting cold. But no one understood. Then I remembered that their second language was French and that Lameia’s dad spoke fluent French so I said “de poulet et légumes ma famille, ‘’ then I pointed to the table and next door. They understood that it was time to go and that dinner was on the table so finally we left to go home. As soon as I got in the door the sheep was out of my mouth and in the bin. I then told mum that I would never ever eat lamb or goat again. I am also going to get Maisy back BIG time for making me eat the sheep!!!
Charlotte
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