Tabaski

Hello. Camera dump time, which means you get to sodomize your brains with images of my Muslim holiday fun. But don't let such rapid updates either lull you into a sense of any kind of regularity here, or distract you from the questions posed yesterday. So look at the cute children, then check that warm, golden feeling with an image of a skinned goat head.

The death and the skinning.


On the glorious blimp to the heavens.


Or, perhaps, not so much.


Said goat, approximately three hours later.

Video, of the meal! More cute children!

Ousmane's sister-in-law, her daughter, Ousmane, and his wife.

The next day's meal. I went to NKT and ate a hamburger.

So that's that. While you were caroling in a winter wonderland, we kept a goat on our balcony until is was coated in poop and pee (balcony, goat), then killed it and ate it. Merry Tabaski.

Your turn to post

Glaring cultural differences. Couple questions/observations deserving comment. Your chance to post for me!

1. The secretary's wife in a particular private school here died suddenly and unexpectedly during childbirth; a tragedy by any stretch. School was canceled so that teachers could pay their respects. I sparked the ire of my roommate, a teacher at said school, by telling him that, while I by no means intended to be callous, it seems to me that canceling school because of the death of an administrator's family member was rather neglectful of the students. It also reinforced the notion that education is secondary to the whims of whoever's in charge. That was about an hour ago, and he does not appear to be pleased with me, but I stand by my opinion.

2. A certain white guy (not this one) was walking near my old apartment, and happened upon a man screaming at and attempting to force a woman holding a child into a taxi. The driver was at the wheel, attempting to hurry the resisting woman by occasionally rolling forward. The white guy, calling upon the noble gods of noble nobility, stepped in, grabbed the wheel through the window to indicate that the driver was to stop, and attempted to separate the others with his remaining hand. Meanwhile, he had his companion call the police. A crowd, previously disregarding the event, gathered as soon as the white man became involved. When the police arrived, the woman relented, literally tossed the infant at the driver, then climbed in the car herself. All parties went their separate direction. I stumbled upon the inevitable showdown a couple nights later, in which the local man warned the white guy that, should he ever get involved with something like that again, he and his friends would come and kill him. He then turned the situation into one of religious polarization, claiming this country to be Muslim (directly implying a connection between Islam and a lack of women's rights) and not like the white guy's Christian home. Thankfully, the argument went no further.

I later told the white man that, having only been in NDB for about two months at that point, he had better reconsider blind displays of moral superiority. There was no possible good ending to the situation, but by getting involved in what was clearly a domestic dispute (a fact that would have been obvious with a bit more experience here), the whole altercation became East vs. West, Muslim vs. Christian. Furthermore, the woman was far more likely to be beaten later because of his intervention, and the chances that the police would get involved in her favor were slim to nil. This was about six months ago, and I maintain that his response was wrong, lacked foresight, and was generally just kind of cowboyish. Anyone agree, disagree?

Sheer terror

I promised a post.

So a French family was gunned down along Mauritania's main road, followed by the murders of some gendarmes in the north. Al Queda in the Islamic Maghreb has claimed responsibility for these acts of "terrorism," though they appear to be nothing more than amateurish, cold-blooded murders. Two of those responsible for the tourist slaying were caught in, and extradited from, Guinea-Bissau.

Several months ago, a handful of terrorism suspects were arrested and detained in NKT. They were eventually released because, according to my roommate, Mauritania did not want to spark the ire of al Queda. Now, according to my roommate, they have discovered that at least two of the people involved in the recent garbage were among that earlier group.

This has affected my life only so far as an increased number of police/gendarme checkpoints which take about four times longer to clear. My faith in authority here, as per recent experiences, is scraping bottom. And for the small handful who have not heard the story, several weeks ago the police attempted to arrest me twice in one night.

Okay, the short version. My sitemates ET'ed (early termination), and we went out to celebrate on their final night here. We got a bit sauced at the Chinese restaurant, grabbed a bag of beer to go, and eventually left. Mere steps out of the restaurant, a shitty black sedan pulled up next to me, and a gendarme jumped out, ripped the bag out of my hand, and demanded to know its contents. Everyone else kept walking. Before I could answer, he told me to get in his car. He hadn't even looked in the bag. I laughed, told him there was no way I was going anywhere with him, and proceeded to tell him to give me my bag. He acted dumbfounded at my lack of acquiescence, repeated his demand, and again I laughed and told him to give me my bag. He called backup, and I found myself surrounded by three screaming men in military garb. I continued to laugh at all of them, and in retrospect, I'm slightly amazed that no one touched me. I called my director, told him I was being arrested, and handed the phone to the ranking officer. After a moment, he took the call privately in his truck, and the other two still-screaming men suddenly shut up. I started to ask where the problem had gone in Hassaniya. They ended up giving my bag back.

The second incident was even less. Me and another guy were walking a girl home around 3:00 in the morning. Admittedly, we were being a bit loud, but respect for silence is nonexistent here. A gendarme appeared out of nowhere and grabbed the other guy's wrist. He demanded we come with him to the police station, so the guy ripped his arm from the gendarme's grip and we laughed and kept walking. The gendarme screamed "CIA dogs" at us all the way down the block.

About 50% of the time I'm in a gregarious mood, and quite tolerant of the incredible amount of unnecessary bullshit and rudeness you receive on a daily basis. The other 50% of the time I carry a bit of a chip. I have a tendency to explode on people where at one point I would have walked away. I've spent over a year doing the hypersensitive cultural thing, in which one defaults all tense situations to personal error. But now, when someone gives me a shitty, taped, stapled 200um bill and refuses to accept the exact same bill the next day, I blow up so loudly and immediately that the argument is over before it began. It has made me enemies, and it has made me friends. And I find I'm more often treated with the respect that white people, as a rule, are not.

Hmmm. Not to sound bitter. I feel the need to add the disclaimer, "But I really don't hate this place," to most of my correspondence recently. And it's true; I don't. There are particularly good moments, like being sandwiched between two Moors in the front seat of a Mercedes sedan containing seven adults on a five hour trip through the desert, trying to name all the states in the US with the two guys flanking me while sharing my iPod with the driver, who speeds up noticeably to Justin Timberlake while attempting to sing along to a language in which he knows four words. But I'm more often surprised by poor behavior than especially nice behavior, which makes me think that I still have faith in the general good nature of people.

Allow me to end the ramblings with the promise of more structured post to come, and a shout-out to Kim C., who appeared from what seems like a previous life to brighten my inbox. Also, I've applied for a job in China.

There you go, Kyle.