Sunday, June 6, 2010

The Death of a Chicken and Other New Foods

Warning: The following post is a bit graphic, viewer discretion is advised.

It was a Monday morning just like any other, but for one unfortunate chicken it would be his last...

After breakfast I found Marieta waiting with a knife as basin; she was ready for the slaughter. She grabbed the unlucky rooster from the garage, and we headed out back. Now I know that chickens have very small brains, but this guy knew what was up. From the minute Marieta picked him up he was screaming like I have never heard a chicken before. She placed him on the ground, put one foot on his legs and the other on his wings. Now it was my turn. I mimicked her stance atop the victim and asked "What now?"

She stepped away and simply said, "You cut." I clutched the rooster's head and began cutting, expecting this to be a quick process. I soon realized that this knife was extremely dull. The chicken agonized for almost a minute while I sawed at its neck. I finally broke throgh, he made one last scream, and breathed his last. I held his body for a few more moments while its muscles continued to contract (I had always heard that headless chickens could run around).

As I walked ways with bloody hands, a knife in one hand, and a chicken head in the other, I felt a sense of supreme masculinity, like Liam Neeson walking away after killing 20 bad guys in "Taken." The irony of course was that I had merely killed a defenseless chicken. Eh, testosterone is testosterone regardless.

Other culinary firsts:
-Fresh mango (Lopez shout out)
-Fermented milk (kind of like yogurt)
-Fresh papaya
-Purple porridge (made from millet flour aka "wimbi")
-Goat meat
-Two types of Tanzanian beer
-Fresh avocado
-Sugar cane (you literally gnaw on a branch and suck out the sugar)

Tanzanian Fun Fact: Speaking of food, the Swahili word for butt is "tako." When people from Tanzania visit America, they are perplexed to see people eating at Taco Bell. Would you eat at a place called "Butt Bell"?

1 comment:

  1. The one time in my life that I've partaken in chicken-killing, the person holding the chicken was startled by a blood squirt when the head was about half off. The chicken managed to escape and run around for quick a while with its head flapping around before we caught it.