NIAMEY, NIGERChecked in at the police station for the usual passport rigmarole. Today's the fist day of the Islamic celebration of the sacrifice of Abraham; I watched the people next door wash their sheep up good, tie them up and cut their throats. Walking through the city later, every corner had someone skinning sheep, emptying its bowels or setting carcasses on racks around a fire. Tonight they ate the tripe and tomorrow they'll eat the dried met. Except for a brief communal dance and some drumming at night, there weren't many festivities.
Parts of the big marketplace were open today—I browsed through and was glad to buy some little bananas—the first fresh fruit I've seen in three weeks. This one-hour walk really wiped me out, so I went back to the pool, where I'd already spent most of the day. After my final daily cup of hot milk, I crashed early and slept long.
PHOTO CREDIT
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