Sacrifice

Yesterday I was washing my laundry in the tub, when I heard a strange sound. First let me explain that I have taken to washing my clothes by hand, and I don't really know why. We have a washing machine, and my roommate prefers to use that modern appliance. But for some reason, the ludite in me has encouraged me to wash my clothes by hand in the tub. Anyways, I was washing my laundry in the tub, when I heard a strange sound. Actually, it wasn't a strange sound at all, it was extremely familiar for any kid who sang "Old McDonald" or for any person who has been to a farm. I clearly, distinctly, heard a Moooooooo from outside. For a brief second, I wondered if a cow might have wandered into my apartment in downtown Cairo. But there was also construction going on in our apartment building, so I wrote the mooing off as a strange drill or bovinely inspired chain saw. I continued to wash my clothes and forgot about the strangely familiar sound until I opened up my window to hang my clothes.

My window overlooks the inner courtyard of our building. As I opened up the shutters and began to hang my freshly washed underwear on the line, I couldn't help but notice a cow staring up at me. Our eyes met, and she let out that unmistakable call which I had previously, and correctly assessed as a "moo". Before I recovered from the shock of actually finding a cow in my courtyard, I noticed that in another corner is a sheep, grinning at me. I quickly scan the remaining two corners, expecting to find a camel and goat, but luckily the barn yard surprises ended with the grinning sheep. The cow and the sheep never stopped staring at me, and in fact I seemed to make the two of them a bit nervous. The cow mooed and the sheep nervously danced back and forth, utilizing the slack of the rope which tied it to a water pipe.

Perhaps this would be a good time to explain why these animals suddenly appeared in my courtyard. There is a Muslim Holiday coming up, called Eid al-Adha, which means "Feast of the Sacrifice" You can probably see where this is going, but its a good story so stick with me. This holiday commemorates the willingness of Prophet Ibrahim (Abraham) to sacrifice his son. Remember this story from Sunday school? In Judaism and Christianity, Abraham is commanded by God to sacrifice his son Isaac to prove his obedience to God. Muslims believe the same general story, but with a few different details. Muslims believe that God ordered Ibrahim to sacrifice his son Ismael, and after preparing to carry out God's command, the prophet finds that God has replaced his son with a ram. The ram is sacrificed and Ismael is spared, all because of Ibrahim's willingness to put his trust in God.

So to remember both the mercy of God and the obedience of Ibrahim, Muslims sacrifice a sheep, goat, camel, or cow for the Eid al-Adha. This is only for those who are able to afford the animal, and it is custom for a large portion of the sacrificed animal to be given to the poor who themselves cannot afford an animal to slaughter. Eid al-Adha is both a time to commemorate the spiritual significance of Ibrahim's sacrifice, and also a time for the community to pull together support the less fortunate.

As beautiful as this holiday is, it sadly requires the participation of the two animals in my courtyard, and many more of their comrades around the world. The sacrifices are public, and it is said that those who are squeemish about blood should stay inside during the day of the sacrifice as you might see more than one on the walk to the store. I fully appreciate the sanctity of the sacrifice, and the fact that there are religious regulations meant to ensure a swift and least painful death for the animal who is giving his life. If anything, this holiday is a deliberate reminder of the sacrifice of a living creature in order that we might eat and live. I am also not an vegetarian, and wish that I could find within me the strength to watch the reality of where my meat comes from, but cowardly I can't. Perhaps this is why I don't eat meat that often, and why I am happy that I will be out of town when the day comes that my courtyard is empty once again.