Meat

I eat meat, so why am I squeamish about Aid and the sacrificing of sheep all over Fes today. It was one thing to get used to walking to our hotel through the meat souk where camel and sheep heads hang on hooks to indicated both the type of meat sold at a particular shop, and it's freshness. Matthew and I both had to try to banish those images from are minds before we could dig into our kebab dinners.
Now this morning we have been listening to the last bleats of hundreds of sheep as they are individually slaughtered with their heads turned to Mecca. Singing horse riders crash through the narrow lanes some already proudly wearing white robes drenched in blood.

One sheep on our neighboring rooftop became quite quiet after fewer and fewer of his bleats were answered. Oh dear, I am back on the roof and he is very dead now. Families are gathered on all the surrounding roofs taking photos and preparing for their feast. The sky is smokey as fires are lit to roast the meat.

For Moroccans today is a celebration, and everyone, even the poor, will eat meat tonight.
An important part of Aid is giving mutton to those who need it. Red meat is relatively expensive here and for some, they will only be able to eat Mutton twice a year.

I eat meat so why do I prefer my lamb to come from an industrial meat processing plant where they never see a pasture and live only a few months to then be wrapped in cellophane sent across the world for my inspection. No heads or eyes looking down at me to indicate how long that leg of lamb has been sitting in the supermarket. It certainly is less messy for me and easier to pretend it never came from a live creature. Call me old school but that is just how I prefer it.

Location:Fes, Morocco