Tradition has it that if you are going to be living in The Gambia for any period of time you get given a Gambian name. So one of the lovely ladies from the telephone company thought that it would be a nice idea to take her mother’s name which is Fatou ( I don’t know whether I should take that as a compliment or not). Anyway Fatou it is! It has taken me three months to break this news to my darling hubby so to him I am no longer Two Bob but more endearingly named Fat Two Bob (I think he still loves me!).
What of Tobaski? I hear you ask. Well back in the U.K. we would know it as the Muslim festival of Eid. Everybody has been gearing up to it for weeks and saving their well earned dalasis to buy the sacrificial ram for the family compound. They have been tethered along the roadside fattening up for the special occasion. I walk past half a dozen on the way to work and mutter something like ‘If you only knew rammy boy!’ Hopefully nobody hears me. They don’t seem to have the same affection towards animals out here. I did think that I was mistaken the other day though when I saw a couple of kids caressing their ram but it wasn’t until I got closer and discovered they were prodding it to see how much meat was on its bones. Anyway yesterday was the last day to go ram shopping. It’s not like a turkey that you can stuff in a carrier bag and take home. It has been quite entertaining spotting the different methods of transporting your ram. There is the wheelbarrow method whereby you pick up its back legs and shove, you can actually tie its legs together and put it inside a wheelbarrow, strap it to the back of a motorcycle, tie it to the roof of a gelli or ram it into the boot of a car. They eventually get home one way or another and inevitably meet their maker as swiftly as possible. The lucky family then dine for a week on roast ram, ram salad, ram sandwiches, ram bubble and squeak and ramburgers. The list is endless I won’t ramble on anymore. You will be pleased to know that we did not slaughter a ram in our compound instead I ceremoniously took the carving knife to a swiss roll and dispatched it vey humanely.
June’s tip for the week – Don’t forget to remove your ram from the roof.
Ram's everywhere
Ram on the roof
Rammed in the boot!
The Swiss Roll gets it!
