After a few days of low-key exploration and R&R, my Bengali experience reached a high point thanks to the dramatic Islamic festival of Eid al-Adha. Let me digress, however; after twelve days backpacking solo through Malaysia, I was absolutely exhausted. Despite being on “vacation,” the experience of never sleeping in the same bed for more than 2-3 nights and lacking a home base was draining. Furthermore, traveling solo required me to really keep my wits about me, especially in Malaysia where every other person is trying to make a quick buck off the white man. Anyways, back to Dhaka. I was quite happy to take it easy for the first few days, content to enjoy the wonderful hospitality Bengalis are so adept at providing. December 20th, the day before Eid, all the men of the house (ourselves included) set out to the markets in search for the perfect sacrifice, in this case, a bull.
Regarding Eid al-Adha, any bull sacrificed to Allah can be be split among seven households (I believe) while a goat may only be sacrificed for a single man. The Muslim tradition requires that all faithful with the available means must make a sacrifice for this annual holiday. Accordingly, Adnan’s extended family were buying a bull collectively (with one third going to the poor, as required), while Adnan, Mateo and myself were chipping together to buy our own (technically Adnan’s) goat. But one does not simply go to a supermarket and pick up a live bull, its an adventure in and of itself.
The first cattle market – more orderly and closer to the wealthy districts of Banani and Gulshan – was largely overpriced, according to Mr. Alam and his brothers. Logically, to get a better price, we drove onto a more egalitarian market, further away from the wealthy zones. The price of the bull was especially important this year, with cyclone Sidr killing many cattle in the coastal devastation, a limited supply led to, any guesses anyone? high prices. This second market, more middle-class (I suppose), was one of Bangladesh’s most crazy experiences to offer, and I highly recommend it.
The first thing that struck me about the market was not the smell or the uncleanliness, it was simply the utter chaos that presided over the entire market. Imagine an American shopping mall on the morning of Black Friday. The entire market for Goru (cow) streched as far I could see, even from the elevated position offered by a parked truck.
As you might guess from the photo, the market was one sign of Bangladesh’s record-breaking population density. And although I’ve probably been in larger crowds before (err, just maybe), the energy and chaos pulsing through the market really drove the sense of population home. It probably helped that bulls were trotting out of the market only semi-controlled by their new owners, furthermore, new deliveries of bulls were driven right through the crowd on enormous trucks. So, if you’d to try and imagine walking through the market, make sure you listen for the calls of “Goru! Goru! Goru…” to get out of the way of large bulls with sharp horns who can sense that something bad is coming for them in the future. That would bring me to the most unusual animal behavior I have seen, ever. Several times during our outing, we saw bulls attempting to mount other bulls – whether this was attempted homosexual behavior or simply an act of aggression, I am curious to find out.
Eventually, after spending what must have been around two hours at the eventful market, a suitable bull was finally found at an reasonable price. After paying the salesman, the men then proceeded a special counter to pay a fee to the market – a market commission, I believe. Suddenly, one bull near the checkout counter attempted to mount another, which the second bull did not take too kindly to. The second bull then attempted to run away, which caused the first bull to slide wildly as he attempted to regain his balance – it was at this point that Adnan and Mateo were nearly hit/trampled by the aggressive bull. I still am amazed that no one in the crowd was hurt from that incident. Nevertheless, we all survived the trip to the market, but the story continues on. Samson – the name we gave to the family bull – was his on the way out of the market when he (apparently, this is all secondhand) went into a mild fit and ran into a BUS! As it was a glancing blow, he was okay, Allah be praised, but he did walk away with a mild limp and bloody nose. The following photo was from an unrelated incident but gives one an idea of the chaos caused from thousands of bulls getting a vibe about their near future :
Before Eid could reach its climax the next morning, a couple more things had to happen. First, we bought a goat, although Mateo and I remained in the car because we feared the price hike that would occur if they saw the white men. Adnan then walked the goats (his cousin bought one as well) back to his home, where we named our goat “Yoda.” Next morning, I went to mosque with the men (notice a pattern here?) where I was the only Caucasian among the crowd of a couple of thousand men. I was grateful for prayers because no one was able to approach me, although I don’t think my presence offended anyone – I was dressed traditionally (in a borrowed punjabe) and wore the Muslim head-covering. Apparently, as Adnan translated the sermon in Bengali at some points, the mosque’s Imam was a relatively liberal man; the sermon was humanist, reminding the parishioners that before they could be good Muslims they had to be good people (e.g., dont pollute the city with your sacrifices and cause someone to fall ill) and may have even paraphrased Oscar Schindler with a sentence or two on the value of life. I asked Adnan if this was normal, and he told me of his old Mosque where one Imam wished that all Americans would die.
Finally, the finale.
Well, the time had finally come for Samson and Yoda to fulfill their purpose. The animals were brought and prepared while we waited for the Imam to come – only the ordained Imams could actually make the sacrafice and the requisite prayers. Our Imam had seen few winters, so he made sure to brush up for the ceremony:
And now, without further ado…
As for actual event itself, it was not disturbing because its not that hard to imagine. Nevertheless, witnessing the end of life for a large mammal was aweful and depressing. [Warning: gruesome text will follow!]
Samson, who was first to meet the executioner’s blade, had a good idea of what was coming once he saw other bulls sacrificed in close proximity. Without the ingenious method of restraining the bull (where the ankles are tied then the ropes are walked around in a tightening spiral), serious mayhem would ensue thanks to the enormous strength of an full-grown bull. Once restrained, the prayers were recited and the teenage Imam (I would not believe he was older than sixteen) sliced the bull’s throat, releasing a torrent of fire-engine red, arterial blood. What was most upsetting about this particular sacrifice was agonizly long time it took Samson to pass on – it was at least, at least, 2-3 minutes before Samson stopped breathing through the exposed windpipe (which happened to making a gruesome, snoring-like noise).
Yoda was no ignorant of his impending fate either. When both goats were walked to the driveway – the makeshift slaughterhouse – both goats urinated and defecated in sheer terror (I assume). Yoda’s demise was, thankfully, much faster than Samson’s. In any case, both made good dishes that evening, but that, alas, is another post.
As always, please check out the rest of the set on Flickr.
