I took more photos of the sheep market on Thursday, but I might have waited too long. It seemed like there were more people than sheep.

Insanely, several vehicles drove right through the middle of it, including a tractor-trailer that turned around and drove back out again.

I had to drive halfway into the melee on Monday, to the tire place to get a flat fixed. I get flats every few months and pay about $1 to get them patched.

On Thursday we met an English-speaking refugee from Sierra Leone. His name sounded like "Marmot." He seemed confident he would sell his remaining few sheep by the end of the day.

The bigger, the better, of course, but it's also important to get a good-looking sheep. No one seems interested in these guys.

These two men have bought their moutons; one leads his home by a rope and the other trusses his up before throwing him in the trunk of his car.

Happy Tabaski!