Eid al-Adha celebrates the biblical story of Ibrahim (Abraham) and his willingness to sacrifice his son for God without question. Soon after Ibrahim ties up his son, an angel came down from heaven to stop the sacrifice and Ibrahim sacrifices a ram instead. The story illustrates Ibrahim’s obedience to God and his willingness to sacrifice what is most important to him. While Eid el-Fitr is a festivity that breaks the fast of Ramadan, Eid al-Adha is the latter festival, when Muslims sacrifice animals or offer a donation of charity in the spirit of the Ibrahim story.
A boy near Kabul, Afghanistan, celebrates the Muslim festival of Eid al-Adha, which marks Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son for God. (Shah Marai/Agence France-Presse/Getty Images)
Muslim pilgrims gather at Mount Arafat (MAHMUD HAMS/AFP/Getty Images)
Photo Courtesy: Gemunu Amarasinghe/AP/Courtesy WSJ-All Rights Reserved
Images like this man leaping in the air with a machete swung over his head, are what make photojournalism such an affecting medium. It garners discomfort because the viewer knows that seconds after this picture was taken the man’s machete made its way through the animal’s flesh. The story behind the man and this goat elicits a dichotomy between supporters and critics from people around the world. Each year millions of worshipers in Nepal and neighboring India watch the killing of more than 250,000 animals. This festival is in honor of the Hindu goddess of power Gadhimai, where participants offer sacrifices to her.
The thought of sacrificing thousands of animals for what most Westerners would consider insufficient reasons, can make any person cringe, not just vegetarians and animal activists. My initial reaction was of discomfort, but after reading a post by The Travel Photographer, my initial criticisms were stunted. Is sacrificing 250,000 animals to the goddess Gadhimai any different than sacrificing 45 million turkeys for the tradition of Thanksgiving? Admittedly the semantics of the slaughter is like comparing apples to oranges. One ceremony is in your face with blood staining the streets and carcasses laying lifeless. For anyone outside this culture it is very hard to stomach. The ceremony we celebrate here is more subtle. We kill 45 million turkeys, but it is behind the scenes, nicely hidden before we go to the supermarket to buy Thanksgiving dinner.
Growing up in a household where meat is a constant staple in our diet, has made me desensitized to many images that others might find offensive. On trips to Galicia I have witnessed farm chickens being killed, as well as relished the efforts of pig slaughters in the form of chorizo and blood sausage. Like many other cultures, we use every part of the pig, a tradition passed down from people who were poor and had to use every part of the animal. There is an enormous amount of importance placed upon meals and mealtime as a family. For me this is normal, for a vegetarian, probably not so much.
Globalization has made distinguishing what is ‘right and wrong’ slightly difficult. It is a big world and we certainly don’t agree on everything. I consider myself a tolerant person, however there are certain things that I am staunchly against without question ie female mutilation, honor killing; and other things that I am more ignorant and uncertain about such as covering the female form with hijabs and burkas. So where is the line of understanding and injustice? After looking at the picture above a second time, I still feel uncomfortable, but also because maybe I shouldn’t be judging so quickly.
Muslims around the world marked the first day of Eid al-Adha, the festival of sacrifice(Ammar Awad/Reuters)
Second-grader Christopher Moore, 8, center, participates in a Thanksgiving celebration at Beye Elementary School in Oak Park. (Andrew A. Nelles, Chicago Tribune / November 17, 2009)
After several hours of playing around with my new Canon Rebel EOS XSI and taking pictures of various nonessential objects in my bedroom, I decided I need to step away from the camera! My ‘new’ camera arrived yesterday from Quakertown, Pennsylvania. Since my old camera died a slow death about a month ago, I had to start my search somewhere. Gotta love eBay!
My lack of a camera has forced me to focus on other endeavors. The new GUIDE section links to posts I have already written, as well as guides that I will be writing as time goes on. I apologize for the “coming soon” pages, but Rome wasn’t built in a day. The GUIDE will consist of anything from travel tips, food guides, street guides, and site maps. I really hope you enjoy and welcomes any feedback you may have.
The cab driver weaves in and out of traffic accelerating and decelerating in a matter of seconds. I reach over the driver seat and point to the small piece of paper the receptionist gave us at the hostel. “This is our address,” I repeat for the second time, accenting my voice ever so slightly, as if imitating the Egyptian accent would help him better understand me. He nods his head again and smiles at my persistence. I resign myself to my seat, further digging my fingernails into the cushion each time he brakes suddenly. The city is chaotic, there is no doubt. Goats sprint down the road that runs parallel to the Nile River, along with men on bicycles holding large crates full of fresh bread. There is a car to our left filled to the brim with people, speeding along at our same pace. If I wanted, I could reach out and touch the hand of the man sitting in the driver’s seat. I am tempted to try but decide not to test my luck.
On a quest for something truly Egyptian, we make our way to the souk, the famous street market. No matter our efforts to dodge the crowd, we end up bumping into every person walking by. You learn quickly that there are two currencies in Egypt, the tourist price and the Egyptian price. Lesson number one, you will always pay the tourist price, unless accompanied at all times by an amicable Egyptian friend. Lesson number two, you shop at your own risk.
The vendors are extremely anxious to get us to spend our money. “Hello! Hola! Bonjour!” they shout from their stands. Immediately one vendor jumps up and takes matters into his own hands. He rushes over with a handful of shawls and dutifully places one over my head. “I give you good price,” he says with a smile. I politely decline seeing as I already bought one from another vendor; but he is insistent. He showers me with compliments and occasionally he throws in a habibi, the Arabic equivalent to darling or sweetheart. Finally I agree to buy another shawl. Did he charm me into buying something I don’t need? No I convince myself; after all I could always use an extra shawl.
As the sun begins to set, we hear the familiar chanting we’ve heard each day this week. It is Ramadan, the Islamic month of fasting. Muslims around the world fast from sunrise to sunset as a gesture of self-restraint and piety. The crackling of intercoms echoes throughout the city as a reminder to everyone that they must go home to pray.
After prayer, Egyptians get together at cafés to talk, play cards, and smoke hookah (a water pipe used to smoke flavored tobacco covered in molasses). Going by a tip from one of our friends, we go in search of a particular floating restaurant along the Nile, a favorite amongst Egyptians themselves. We find ourselves in a huge space, filled with unfamiliar sights and smells. Brightly colored fabrics hang from the ceiling so low you could jump up and pull them down if you ever got cold. Arabic words murmur throughout the crowd as Egyptian pop music plays in the background. A group of men sing and laugh at the table next to us. One of them takes in so much smoke from his hookah, it seems virtually impossible to fit in his lungs without him bursting at the seams. But then again he has had lots of practice. They get together to tell stories, laugh, smoke almost every night. After what seems like an eternity he blows out every last puff of smoke contributing to the sugar, fruit, and jasmine scented cloud hovering above our heads.
Elliot, an advertising and graphic design company in Montreal, took the Facebook feature “Like This” to a whole other level by rating things outside of your friend’s network. This video goes around Montreal showing all the sites that Elliot Likes.
Since Montreal is a city that best suits the flâneur, you get the most out of this city when you walk around. The plateau and the Latin Quarter in particular are neighborhoods best seen and experienced on foot. There aren’t particular sites or ‘must sees’ but rather good food, cafes, shopping, basically a taste of everyday life.
Avenue du Mont-Royal
On Avenue du Mont Royal there are always people, whether they are grabbing some food, buying flowers at the local florist, or shopping in one of the many shops along the avenue. For interesting clothes made out of recycled material go to Moly Kulte, a brand created by two Quebecois designers. Food is plentiful, what with all the bistros and cafes around. You can try Montreal’s famous bagels at St-Viateur Bagel one of the best known bagel shops. The pastry shop Première Moisson is worth a visit just to taste their crème brûlée which is absolutely incredible, although I may be biased. Also the macaron shop Point G is along this road. My friends and I would always enjoy happy hour (cinq a sept) at Le Boudoir, a bar that is usually packed close to the weekend with people watching a hockey game, meeting friends or looking for an inexpensive beer and a relaxed atmosphere.
Rue Saint Denis
Saint Denis is one of the main roads in Montreal that cuts right through the Plateau neighborhood. If you start at UQAM, the heart of the Latin Quarter and walk all the way to Avenue du Mont-Royal you will see a great deal. Near UQAM there is Juliette et Chocolat, by far the best dessert place in Montreal. So good in fact, a friend and I had thoughts of approaching the owner to ask her what her secret is. She drove a Juliette et Chocolat car which would make the stalking fairly easy. Just across the street from Juliette et Chocolat is Le Saint-Suplice, the biggest beer garden in the city. In the summer, there is nothing better than spending a great deal of your sunday at Le Saint-Suplice, since beer gardens don’t exactly count as a bar there is no guilt for drinking most of the day. A little further on Saint Denis, past Rue Sherbrooke, you no longer are in Latin Quarter, but rather the Plateau. Renaud Bray is the largest French book chain in North America and is located on St-Denis between Rue Marie-Anne and Mont-Royal.
Rue Rachel
Rue Rachel runs perpendicular to Rue Saint Denis and has a very conveniently located bicycle route. On the east side of Rue Rachel, close to Parc Lafontaine you can have your choice from many different types of poutine at the 24 hours La Banquise. Right next door to La Banquise is a bar called La Quicaillerie which has long table perfect for a large party. The best part of this bar is that you can bring in poutine from next door, very convenient after a happy hour.
Rue Saint Laurent
St- Laurent is what you might expect from a street in the middle of a hipster neighborhood. The end of this street runs into Mile End, the up and coming trendy section of Montreal. This street has many shops, clothing boutiques, yoga studios, and hair salons. The famous smoked meats of Schwartz’s Charcuterie cause lines to spill out the deli door. For the best burgers in the area go to Patati Patata on the corner of Saint Laurent and Rue Rachel. You know the food is good if people are willing to wait to eat, before sitting in the cramped locale. If you eat at the bar you can watch the cooks frantic pace as they flip burgers, collect orders, and charge customers all at the same time. The proximity of St-Laurent to the various universities in the area, means that a lot of university students will be out at night. Expect a young crowd at the various bars and lounges that line the street, such as Rouge on the corner of St-Laurent and Prince Arthur.
Rue Duluth
One of the very few cobblestone streets left in Montreal, this street cuts through various ethnic neighborhoods, or at least what is left. Many of the immigrants may have moved to the suburbs but their restaurants and shops have remained. Portuguese and Greek restaurants scatter this area, although the Portuguese are definitely more prominent. On the corner of Duluth and St-Laurent there is the bistro Le Reservoir. The food is good with unique spin on bistro favorites. In warmer weather they open up the front windows as well as the upstairs terrace. If you continue to walk a couple streets past St. Denis towards Parc La Fontaine, you will find the indulgent restaurant of Chef Martin Picard, Au Pied de Cochon.
Rue Prince Arthur
Prince Arthur is known for its policy of apporter votre vin (BYOB) however the restaurants on this strip are nothing to get excited home, except for the whole being able to bring your own wine. The interesting part about this street is that from St-Laurent to Square St-Louis it is a pedestrian walkway. In warm weather there usually are street performers and tons of people sitting outside the restaurants. It is a pleasant place to walk around on your way to Square St-Louis which is very much worth a look, at least to see the architecture of the buildings surrounding the square. My one suggestion would be Gelateria Pagliacci, located on the corner of Prince Arthur and Rue Bullion. They make homemade gelato with fresh ingredients. When I lived in the McGill Ghetto I was a frequent visitor to this shop.
Rue Laval
When you are at Square St-Louis you stroll up the nearby Rue Laval. This is a purely residential street, however it is one of the prettiest in Montreal. The houses are typical Montreal architecture with protruding stairs on the outside.
When you travel frequently you get the pleasure of meeting some of the most incredible people. Unfortunately when you leave you have to say goodbye. But that is what reunions are for.
Gadhimai Mela Animal Sacrifice
by Elena on November 27, 2009
Photo Courtesy: Gemunu Amarasinghe/AP/Courtesy WSJ-All Rights Reserved
Images like this man leaping in the air with a machete swung over his head, are what make photojournalism such an affecting medium. It garners discomfort because the viewer knows that seconds after this picture was taken the man’s machete made its way through the animal’s flesh. The story behind the man and this goat elicits a dichotomy between supporters and critics from people around the world. Each year millions of worshipers in Nepal and neighboring India watch the killing of more than 250,000 animals. This festival is in honor of the Hindu goddess of power Gadhimai, where participants offer sacrifices to her.
The thought of sacrificing thousands of animals for what most Westerners would consider insufficient reasons, can make any person cringe, not just vegetarians and animal activists. My initial reaction was of discomfort, but after reading a post by The Travel Photographer, my initial criticisms were stunted. Is sacrificing 250,000 animals to the goddess Gadhimai any different than sacrificing 45 million turkeys for the tradition of Thanksgiving? Admittedly the semantics of the slaughter is like comparing apples to oranges. One ceremony is in your face with blood staining the streets and carcasses laying lifeless. For anyone outside this culture it is very hard to stomach. The ceremony we celebrate here is more subtle. We kill 45 million turkeys, but it is behind the scenes, nicely hidden before we go to the supermarket to buy Thanksgiving dinner.
Growing up in a household where meat is a constant staple in our diet, has made me desensitized to many images that others might find offensive. On trips to Galicia I have witnessed farm chickens being killed, as well as relished the efforts of pig slaughters in the form of chorizo and blood sausage. Like many other cultures, we use every part of the pig, a tradition passed down from people who were poor and had to use every part of the animal. There is an enormous amount of importance placed upon meals and mealtime as a family. For me this is normal, for a vegetarian, probably not so much.
Globalization has made distinguishing what is ‘right and wrong’ slightly difficult. It is a big world and we certainly don’t agree on everything. I consider myself a tolerant person, however there are certain things that I am staunchly against without question ie female mutilation, honor killing; and other things that I am more ignorant and uncertain about such as covering the female form with hijabs and burkas. So where is the line of understanding and injustice? After looking at the picture above a second time, I still feel uncomfortable, but also because maybe I shouldn’t be judging so quickly.
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