During
the festival of Eid this year, our Moroccan neighbors rented a bouncy house,
enjoyed carnival games, and slaughtered forty farm animals (assorted goats,
sheep, and three cows.) We enjoyed our neighbor’s festival from the comfort of
our lawn chairs under the live oak tree in our backyard.
I
for one, appreciated experiencing a slice of Morocco without having to travel
to Morocco, but that’s our neighborhood for you. It’s stuffed full of diversity.
The
festival of Eid celebrates the end of Ramadan and is as close to a hoot-a-nanny
as you can get without being either a hoot or a nanny. Celebrating Abraham’s
near sacrifice of Isaac, goats and sheep are butchered to honor the sparing of
Isaac when God provided a “ram in a thicket” (see the book of Genesis in that
big book called The Bible.)
There’s
a lot of talk of diversity at Rollins College where I go to school. We speak of
it. We debate it. We celebrate it. We swim in it. But until you’ve listened to
your neighbors bone sawing their way through forty animal carcasses you’ve only
dreamed of a universe full of the diverse; you’ve never lived next to it.
Grab
a lawn chair and come on over if you want the real experience.
Daughter
#1 pulled her lawn chair up next to mine and asked, “What’s happening now?”
“Not
much. The traffic jam on Kissimmee Park Road of folks coming with coolers and
gunnysacks has eased off and everyone seems to be settling in to party down.”
“What’s
that sound?” The air rang with the
energetic sounds of whirring blades.
“The
bone saw.”
“Well,
I’ll be,” she murmured, popping the top of a Coke.
“Hang
on,” I instructed, leaning to my left, her right. “Check that kid out that just dropped his Igloo cooler.”
She
leaned forward. “Which one?”
“Right
there. The cooler on the ground, see it? The one with the haunch of beast that
just rolled out.”
“Sure
enough,” she said. “What is that? A leg? A rump? A pot roast?”
“Not
sure, but it’s absolutely got a hoof hanging off of it. Pass the popcorn,” I
said.
A
good time was had by all.
Mr.
Abe, our neighbor, asked me later if their festival of butchery bothered us at
all. I told him, “Nope. There’s a reason we don’t live in a sub-division with a
homeowner’s association. It’s your
property and your goats and your bone saw. Slaughter away.”
He
gave us a goat in appreciation. The goat was alive. We took it. And that, my
friends, is diversity in all its undiluted purity.
Linda
(Neighborhood Watch) Zern
