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DO NOT READ OR
LOOK PASSED THE LAST TWO PARAGRAPHS IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO READ ABOUT OR SEE CHICKEN DEATH.
DO READ THE LAST
TWO PARAGRAPHS AND LOOK AT THE PHOTOS IF YOU WANT TO LEARN ABOUT THE
PROCESS OF KILLING AND PREPARING A CHICKEN FOR CONSUMPTION...I'm glad
I now know how it's done in most of the world.
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The toothless
spaces move about in front of my eyes. I'm fixated on the gaps where
there should be blocks of white enamel. My mom threw them on the
roof, she tells me. Why? For
the rat. I had been talking to
one of my nieces, this one is 7-years-old and is missing many teeth.
It was only at the beginning of this conversation when I realized
that the tooth fairy probably only works in the States and I
therefore asked my niece where her teeth had gone. In Paraguay, the
children are not visited by fairies or given money; they are much
more selfless here. The children, or rather their mothers, “give”
baby teeth to the rats by throwing them on the roofs of their houses.
This way, the rats are able to put them in their mouths when they
pass them by during a nightly stroll, and of course ultimately are
able to acquire new teeth.
The
mythology of Paraguay is extensive and it reminds me how young my
Norte country is
comparatively. One of my favorites is the Bombero, who hides in the
woods and when he whistles at you, you must give him alcohol and
cigars or there will be consequences. The Kurupi has a penis that
wraps around his waste three times and when he sees a woman he likes,
he lassos his prehensile member around her. I'm sure that there are a
lot more details to these myths and when I soon go to the campo
I will learn more about the creatures that lurch around this
landlocked country.
Time
is passing quickly and in less than a week I will find myself in a
new campo (countryside)
home. Everything will be new and I will find myself a member of many
new families. But at this moment I'm not ready to leave Guarambare. I
love my host mom and my host nieces and nephews. I don't
wanna leave! I say as I stomp my
foot and cross my arms. My mother and I have been spending a lot of
time together lately, and we've both shed tears in front of the other
and in private. One of most memorable moments of our past few days is
the particularly unique experience we just shared: my first chicken
adventure!
Having
no prior experience handling chickens, it began with the odds forever
not in
my favor. Maria threw
me into the gallenero
(chicken coop) with little more instruction than I think
you grab them around their wings.
Only five chickens remained from the 20 my agricultural tech group
started with; the rest had already been given to other host families
and the language teachers. We raised them from chicks and in the
two-months that they lived in our training site they grew quite
immensely. In this moment though, chickens squawked and feathers
thustled as I chased the last survivors like my own head was cut off.
I had one cornered. I faked him out to the left, to the right, and
finally he was mine. The poor thing traveled with me from one town to
the next in the very bag that first held his food – now it held
mine. As I neared my house after the mile walk home, my mother arose
from the patio chair. Usually I am greeted by kisses and questions,
but on this day there was no greeting. With a smile extending from
ear to ear she grabbed the bag and walked to the outdoor kitchen.
Soon I found the 3
kilo meal dangling by
its feet from my mother's grasp. Let me take a picture! I
exclaimed to my mom. My camera snapped the shot – and continued to
shoot the unsuspected
events that transpired
over the next 10 seconds. My mother was wringing the neck of the
ryguasu (chicken in
Guarani) and by the end of this short time span the young
gallero was dead. Two days later
he supplied my entire
household of 10+ people with a delectable
meal.
I've
posted the photos documenting this process below. The other photos
feature the day our permanent site assignments were revealed and a
few shots of Thanksgiving at the US Embassadors house. Coming up this
week: Moving out of Guarambare, being sworn in as an official PC
volunteer (PCV), and moving into my new home in Itapua!!!
My cultural excursion group spending the morning of Site Assignment Day exploring some of the culture in PY.
We are on top of one of the tallest hills in our area. We found this rock mound with stairs and a large cross.
We visited one of the local districts that is famous for making hammocks. This women is using all four of her limbs to work the loom.
Some trainees approaching the famous church Temple de SanBuen Aventura in Yaguaron.
It is quite spectacular.
After lunch, the Director of Training delivered some last minute words before the Ag and
Environment teams passed out our site folders. The empty map of Paraguay stands behind her.
The final assignments of the G-mates.
Thanks!
Taking a refined internet break in the US Ambassador's library.
The ambassador and his wife welcoming us to the Thanksgiving feast. I didn't get to take a picture of the food, but I took some turkey home to my family and my mom had turkey for the first time!
My mama.
Step 1: Wring the neck of the chicken when your host daughter least expects it.
Step 2: Boil the chicken for about 1 minute.
Step 3: Pluck off the feathers.
Step 3.5: Wash the chicken and pluck and tiny feathers that escaped prior removal.
Step 4: Cut off the feet.
Step 5: Remove the organs and the esophagus of the chicken.
Step 6: Your chicken is ready! Here's my little nephew learning about the process too!
Step 7: Feed the feet to Ringo.
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