Back in the day when Virginia law was less persnickety about playing with fire, we always used to pass these little roadside firecracker stands and eagerly await the Fourth of July. Here in Burkina Faso today, we’re gearing up for our own Fourth of July. It has nothing to do with independence and everything to do with sheep.

So as cars and motos whiz down the only paved road in Koudougou, instead of firecracker stands lining the sidewalks, you’ll see shepherds selling off their flocks. In the middle of town, these dozens of shepherds and baker’s dozens of sheep look so out of place. In order to differentiate sheep ownership, the shepherds had apparently scribbled markings on the animals’ backs with multicolored highlighters. When I saw all these neon sheep, rather than questioning reality as I knew it, it was more convenient to believe that sheep have always been neon. The whole situation was that special brand of absurdity that, after living here a few weeks, I now take for granted.

And just so you picture it right, West African sheep don’t look like the woolly puffballs you count to fall asleep. Forget about the Baa-Ram-Ewe sheep from the movie “Babe,” and just picture your run-of-the-mill goat. Yep, goats and sheep here are nearly identical. If you asked me to do some kind of “Pepsi/Coke Challenge” for identifying any given goat/sheep without looking at the label, I would probably fail.

So how do I know all these sheep were actually sheep, you ask? Sir or Madame, I didn’t land in Africa yesterday. And for your information - when you interrupted to ask that question, I was just about to explain this sheep-centric holiday anyway. Also, I don’t appreciate your tone.

First off, it’s celebrated on November 16th, and it’s actually a Muslim holiday called Tabaski. At least, we think it will be on November 16 this year – the official date of the celebration is determined by the unanimous agreement of several tribal leaders’ interpretations of the moon. Kind of like how the longevity of winter is interpreted on Groundhog’s Day.

Anyway, Tabaski celebrates that incident in the Quran when Abraham almost nearly sacrificed his son and then sacrificed a sheep instead. So in the morning each household sacrifices its own sheep (hence, the marked up curbside flocks). After feasting on muttonchops, each family then shares cuts of their meat with neighbors and strangers. Kind of like our post-Thanksgiving tradition in the States of pawning off ziplockfuls of turkey on unsuspecting coworkers.

Tabaski in Burkina bears a final unsolicited and unfair comparison, this time to Halloween. On Tabaski, children paint their feet and go out to greet people. Tradition dictates that when a child wishes you well, you must award them candy. Fortunately, Tana and I won’t have to spend the day avoiding the little ones. Our pockets will be stuffed with Jolly Ranchers and Pop Rocks that we brought across the sea.