It's finished. It has been finished for about eleven hours.
Before I reflect on the last month, let me share how I spent every last dalasi of what I was allotted.
Sunday, April 17: Day 31
I was still at the Basse House, our refuge where we can sometimes have electricity, sometimes have cold water, sometimes have fan power. However, as it often is, the power didn't ever come on during the day, so we just sat and waited and sweated. The pump that we drink out of is also run by Basse power, so we didn't even have potable water. In order to compensate for all the sweat I poured, I needed water. It's biology. So, I sent someone with four dalasis to buy me two bags of water (about a liter).
Item: Water bags (2) Cost: 4D Remaining: 10D
Thus, the trek started. I went to my friend Sunny's house first, and relied on her hospitality and generosity to house and feed me. Thank god, she's an impeccable host, thus, I spent no money. One day left, and ten dalasis.
Tuesday, April 19: Day 33
Second day of the trek, and I went to my friend Trish's house. She was also an impeccable host, feeding me benachin and dancing the benachin dance to celebrate the delicacy we were consuming. However, since she knew this was the last few hours of my dollar a day, AND I had ten dalasis left, we would splurge. And buy a delicious, slightly cool, Coca Cola is a glass bottle.
Item: Coca Cola Cost: 10D Remaining: 0D
Later that night, we were looking for entertainment. So, we entered a hut with a generator attached that was showing a football game. We agreed if they asked us for money, we would plead ignorance and then leave. luckily, no one did!
Item: Viewing of 0-0 tie football match between Manchester and Newcastle Cost: 0D! Remaining: 0D
So, it's finished. I made it without going over my meager wages, but JUST BARELY. Let's reflect and discuss what I've learned and how I'm going to be a better person after this experiment.
Revelation #1: It's hard to be social when you are under such a strict budget. Hanging out with people often involves food, drinks, activities, most of which cost money. I never made this connection before, but this could be a very good reason people of similar economic statuses hang together. Even though we all get paid the same, hanging out with Peace Corps volunteers was difficult, because they had more disposable income to spend than I did. I ended up hanging out in village more than usual, because travel and activities cost money.
Revelation #2: You're always worried about money. Even though I had more money, since I was prohibited from spending it. I have to imagine I worried much less than people who only HAVE one dollar a day. Small events can make a huge differences in a person's finances, and I was often worried about what something would entail. Even eating lunch at school has hidden costs sometimes, and when that comes up too often, it's trouble.
Revelation #3: I prepared a lot for this. I spent some money to stock up so that I was at least slightly comfortable for most of it, and never had to go without basic necessities. But, if an emergency ever came up, and money was stolen or it all had been spent, I'd be IN TROUBLE. Without my stocking up on oatmeal, phone credit, and other things I use all the time but don't need, I would be WAY over. I spent money on food very few times, and both times it was pretty expensive. If someone sneak attacked me and said, "You must do a dollar a day for the next thirty days, starting today!", I'd be screwed. I would probably get way skinnier and never go anywhere.
So, it was hard. In general, I could still do the things i wanted to do, but had to make a few concessions along the way. The only reason it wasn't impossible was the prep. without that, I don't think I would have made it.
A SAD EPILOGUE
You'd think I have learned to go without some things, or appreciate spending less money. But, as soon as I rolled into Basse on the first day of financial freedom, I immediately bought four cans of coke to stock pile, and a giant thing of juice, adding up to a third of the cost of my entire month. Maybe in a few days I'll even out and spend less but not none, but right now I'm splurging. And those cokes were SO WORTH IT.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Living On A Dollar A Day: Part Two
When I last left you, it was the day before the NCAA Championship game. I went to my friend’s place at the Medical Research Council, where he’s doing research, and exploited the community television/cable from 1:30 until 4:30 in the morning to watch this (disappointing) matchup.
In order to convince this dude that it was a good idea to stay up until 5am to watch this game AND to let me sleep in his air conditioned apartment , I had to offer something. So I said, “Hey, why don’t we make dinner, bake some cookies, and play bananagrams until game time?”
So that’s what happened. Thus, what I feared last time – a big expenditure over 25D – occurred. Here’s the latest look into my finances.
Monday, April 4 : Day 18
I brought lots of stuff that I had hoarded to prepare for this dollar a day expedition, but still had to buy rice, limes, onions, and tomatoes to make this mango, corn, bean, concoction. Then cookie materials. It was delicious, but costly.
Item: Foodstuffs Cost: 50D Remaining: 54D
Tuesday, April 5: Day 19
Crossed the river to get home after lots of good food, but too little sleep.
Item: River crossing Cost: 10D Remaining: 44D
Sunday, April 10: Day 24
Again, my phone will not last longer than a week without charging.
Item: Charge Cost: 5D Remaining: 39D
Tuesday, April 12: Day 26
My good friend Mariama came to visit finally, after I hadn’t seen her since her wedding in January. I was at school, and a man came around, selling blocks of ice. This man carried blocks of ice from Basse in a big sack, on a bicycle, the 10K to my village. I thought, “What better gift on a 115 degree day than a block of ice! I have only one week left, I can afford it.” I brought it home, eager to hear them all exclaim what a great toubab I was, but they didn’t seem nearly excited enough…
Item: Ice block Cost: 15D Remaining: 24 D
Saturday, April 16: Day 30
It’s spring break, so I’m taking a trek around the URR on my bike. However, to get to Basse, from whence all treks start, OF COURSE, I have to cross that expensive river.
Item: River Crossing Cost: 10D Remaining: 14D
So, I am in Basse. The land with two restaurants, and at least four places that sell cold coke… it’s the land of temptation. And I have to make my fourteen dalasis last until Tuesday.
Will I make it? Find out on Wednesday.
In order to convince this dude that it was a good idea to stay up until 5am to watch this game AND to let me sleep in his air conditioned apartment , I had to offer something. So I said, “Hey, why don’t we make dinner, bake some cookies, and play bananagrams until game time?”
So that’s what happened. Thus, what I feared last time – a big expenditure over 25D – occurred. Here’s the latest look into my finances.
Monday, April 4 : Day 18
I brought lots of stuff that I had hoarded to prepare for this dollar a day expedition, but still had to buy rice, limes, onions, and tomatoes to make this mango, corn, bean, concoction. Then cookie materials. It was delicious, but costly.
Item: Foodstuffs Cost: 50D Remaining: 54D
Tuesday, April 5: Day 19
Crossed the river to get home after lots of good food, but too little sleep.
Item: River crossing Cost: 10D Remaining: 44D
Sunday, April 10: Day 24
Again, my phone will not last longer than a week without charging.
Item: Charge Cost: 5D Remaining: 39D
Tuesday, April 12: Day 26
My good friend Mariama came to visit finally, after I hadn’t seen her since her wedding in January. I was at school, and a man came around, selling blocks of ice. This man carried blocks of ice from Basse in a big sack, on a bicycle, the 10K to my village. I thought, “What better gift on a 115 degree day than a block of ice! I have only one week left, I can afford it.” I brought it home, eager to hear them all exclaim what a great toubab I was, but they didn’t seem nearly excited enough…
Item: Ice block Cost: 15D Remaining: 24 D
Saturday, April 16: Day 30
It’s spring break, so I’m taking a trek around the URR on my bike. However, to get to Basse, from whence all treks start, OF COURSE, I have to cross that expensive river.
Item: River Crossing Cost: 10D Remaining: 14D
So, I am in Basse. The land with two restaurants, and at least four places that sell cold coke… it’s the land of temptation. And I have to make my fourteen dalasis last until Tuesday.
Will I make it? Find out on Wednesday.
The Other White Meat
If you’ve been following my blog, you know it’s hot here… WAY. TOO. HOT.
A few days ago, I looked at my thermometer, and it said 120 degrees. I saw it and laughed in a fit of hysterical incredulity. No way, right? It was officially only four degrees from being too hot for my thermometer to handle, and it was closer to boiling point than to zero… woah.
I was sitting at school a few days later watching this EPIC brush fire. It started two nights ago, and is still spewing ash into my house and backyard. Some teachers and I were speculating as to how it started, and some thought that someone had started the fire with a cigarette. One teacher spoke of a tree, which, when it gets hot enough, spontaneously combusts. He is convinced that the 120 degree day caused a tree to self-immolate, and in turn caused the massive destruction of the few trees we have left in the Gambia, and lots of cattle grazing areas.
The first full day of the fire, the village was eerily empty, and a fast moving parade of small boys was exiting to the bush. I asked someone where they were going and they said to hunt.
So, remember Bambi? That sad and scary scene where the fire starts a stampede of terrified creatures? I don’t know about you, but I really felt for those animals. Their strife was my strife.
If the typical Gambian had direction Bambi, it would’ve been a quite different movie. As soon as the fire started there would be a picture of a huge group of men turning to look off into the distance with a killer’s gleam in their eye, and then scattering to their respective compounds. As soon as they dispersed, there would be a montage of different men gathering their slingshots, sharpening their machetes, gathering stones, and riling up their dogs to join the hunt. The montage would probably be played over by The Eye of the Tiger, or We Will Rock You, or some other equally manly composition.
Then the killing would begin. The same frightened animals would be shown, but in this version, you would sympathize with the hunters. You would rejoice with every homeless animal killed for its meat.
As soon as the forest fire began, one of the teacher’s eyes widened and mouth started watering. With this massive exodus of all beasts large and small, he knew some lucky hunter would bag a bush pig.
Muslims are not allowed to eat pork. So, the few Christians in this predominantly Muslim country are consistently hungering for what they can rarely have. This particular teacher was particularly lucky, because some non-Muslim dog caught and killed a baby bush pig, and an opportunistic Muslim hunter found a buyer for it quickly.
The teacher, knowing that I am a non-Muslim, came to my house to invite me to partake in this succulent other white meat.
You have never, ever seen a more beastly display of table manners (that’s a misnomer, no one eats on or at a table here), until you se a Christian in a Muslim country get a hold of a forbidden meat that he constantly craves. (I say this now, but when I finally get back to a Chipotle in two years, I think it will be a similarly disgusting display of gluttony).
Five Christians gathered around a giant plate, onto which was dumped the puzzle pieces of an entire baby pig. Still scalding to the touch, they tore in.
Numerous times they uttered phrases of disbelief. “It’s a baby pig!”
“It’s bones are still soft!” they cheered.
“You can even eat the bones!” they joyously discovered.
I stuck around for about twenty minutes, and in that time, four men ate an entire pig, bones and all.
At the end, all that remained of the poor piglet were two shoulder blades, a few vertebrae, and the juices stewed away from the now-vanished creature.
Over the meal, the men talked about what a shame this forest fire is, but I could tell they were internally thanking their non-Muslim god for bringing them a juicy, succulent, bone-crunchingly delicious piece of forbidden meat.
A few days ago, I looked at my thermometer, and it said 120 degrees. I saw it and laughed in a fit of hysterical incredulity. No way, right? It was officially only four degrees from being too hot for my thermometer to handle, and it was closer to boiling point than to zero… woah.
I was sitting at school a few days later watching this EPIC brush fire. It started two nights ago, and is still spewing ash into my house and backyard. Some teachers and I were speculating as to how it started, and some thought that someone had started the fire with a cigarette. One teacher spoke of a tree, which, when it gets hot enough, spontaneously combusts. He is convinced that the 120 degree day caused a tree to self-immolate, and in turn caused the massive destruction of the few trees we have left in the Gambia, and lots of cattle grazing areas.
The first full day of the fire, the village was eerily empty, and a fast moving parade of small boys was exiting to the bush. I asked someone where they were going and they said to hunt.
So, remember Bambi? That sad and scary scene where the fire starts a stampede of terrified creatures? I don’t know about you, but I really felt for those animals. Their strife was my strife.
If the typical Gambian had direction Bambi, it would’ve been a quite different movie. As soon as the fire started there would be a picture of a huge group of men turning to look off into the distance with a killer’s gleam in their eye, and then scattering to their respective compounds. As soon as they dispersed, there would be a montage of different men gathering their slingshots, sharpening their machetes, gathering stones, and riling up their dogs to join the hunt. The montage would probably be played over by The Eye of the Tiger, or We Will Rock You, or some other equally manly composition.
Then the killing would begin. The same frightened animals would be shown, but in this version, you would sympathize with the hunters. You would rejoice with every homeless animal killed for its meat.
As soon as the forest fire began, one of the teacher’s eyes widened and mouth started watering. With this massive exodus of all beasts large and small, he knew some lucky hunter would bag a bush pig.
Muslims are not allowed to eat pork. So, the few Christians in this predominantly Muslim country are consistently hungering for what they can rarely have. This particular teacher was particularly lucky, because some non-Muslim dog caught and killed a baby bush pig, and an opportunistic Muslim hunter found a buyer for it quickly.
The teacher, knowing that I am a non-Muslim, came to my house to invite me to partake in this succulent other white meat.
You have never, ever seen a more beastly display of table manners (that’s a misnomer, no one eats on or at a table here), until you se a Christian in a Muslim country get a hold of a forbidden meat that he constantly craves. (I say this now, but when I finally get back to a Chipotle in two years, I think it will be a similarly disgusting display of gluttony).
Five Christians gathered around a giant plate, onto which was dumped the puzzle pieces of an entire baby pig. Still scalding to the touch, they tore in.
Numerous times they uttered phrases of disbelief. “It’s a baby pig!”
“It’s bones are still soft!” they cheered.
“You can even eat the bones!” they joyously discovered.
I stuck around for about twenty minutes, and in that time, four men ate an entire pig, bones and all.
At the end, all that remained of the poor piglet were two shoulder blades, a few vertebrae, and the juices stewed away from the now-vanished creature.
Over the meal, the men talked about what a shame this forest fire is, but I could tell they were internally thanking their non-Muslim god for bringing them a juicy, succulent, bone-crunchingly delicious piece of forbidden meat.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Thank Yous
Last month was my birthday, and when you live in Africa, you get to celebrate twice! I celebrated on the actual day, and then celebrate again a month later when the presents arrive. Woot!
Thank you, Doug and Linda, for the plethora of Cliff Bars. It's helping me get through a dollar a day.
Thank you, Grandma! Your card was beautiful, and the fabric you sent is going to make some very VERY spirited African clothing. I haven't gotten to watch the games yet, but I'm super excited about sitting down for an entire day and watching all the great Packers football I missed.
I now officially own the best looking pair of shoes in the entire West African region, and socks that mice haven't chewed holes in. Thank you Steve Tomick! What. A. Man.
Thank you, Amber from Pennsylvania, who despite the fact that she doesn't know me, sent me an awesome Packers water bottle! You da best! A letter's coming to you soon!
If you sent something and don't see your name here, don't worry, I'm sure it's on its way coming. Thank you in advance!
Thank you, Doug and Linda, for the plethora of Cliff Bars. It's helping me get through a dollar a day.
Thank you, Grandma! Your card was beautiful, and the fabric you sent is going to make some very VERY spirited African clothing. I haven't gotten to watch the games yet, but I'm super excited about sitting down for an entire day and watching all the great Packers football I missed.
I now officially own the best looking pair of shoes in the entire West African region, and socks that mice haven't chewed holes in. Thank you Steve Tomick! What. A. Man.
Thank you, Amber from Pennsylvania, who despite the fact that she doesn't know me, sent me an awesome Packers water bottle! You da best! A letter's coming to you soon!
If you sent something and don't see your name here, don't worry, I'm sure it's on its way coming. Thank you in advance!
Living On A Dollar a Day Part One
One of my New Year’s resolutions was to live on a dollar a day for at least a month. It took me over three months to actually start it, but on March 18, I started.
Here’s the finances:
The conversion rate on the day I started was 30 dalasis to one dollar, which was a lucky break for me. Normally, it’s like 28. So, for the month, I got a total of 900 dalasis.
Each month, I pay my family 600 dalasis for housing and feeding me. This is the equivalent of about twenty dollars… not a bad deal.
This leaves me with 300 dalasis for the thirty day experiment or ten dalasis per day.
Just so we’re clear before I claim to actual know what living on a dollar a day is like, I want to make it clear that I cheated.
I stocked up on pounds of oatmeal, lots of phone credit, and peanut butter galore.
I have packages coming from America filled with things I need. I have a pretty reliable bicycle to get around.
My family cooks all meals for me. The Peace Corps med unit provides supplies that Gambians either don’t have access to, or have to buy if they need.
Still… it’s a challenge.
Friday, March 18: Day One
I was confident I could go at least the first day without spending any money. But, while I was away in Kombo, our food situation at school changed, and now teachers buy their own bread for lunch.
Item: Half bread Cost: 2D Remaining: 298D
Disaster. I went to a Nyakoi Sport Committee meeting, and was asked for my membership fee, and also back pay for last month.
Item: Membership in an organization where I can’t understand most of what goes on.
Cost: 50D Remaining: 248D
Saturday, March 19: Day 2
I crossed the river to go to Basse to coach a basketball team that rarely shows up.
Item: Boat crossing Cost: 10D Remaining: 238D
Returned across the river after no one showed up for basketball… again.
Item: Boat crossing Cost: 10D Remaining: 228D
March 20 – March 26:
Spent no money… and it feels so good.
Sunday, March 27: Day 9
Sent a letter to a reader of my blog to thank her for a killer gift. I included a 5D bill.
Item: 5 dalasis Cost: 5D Remaining: 223D
Monday, March 28: Day 10
The power of the sun can’t keep up with my phone battery usage, so I had to pay someone to charge it for me.
Item: Charge Cost: 5D Remaining: 218D
School ran out of food, so I had to contribute for lunch. I could go home and get free lunch, but I have to teach a lesson, and lunch at home will be over.
Item: Lunch contribution Cost: 10D Remaining: 208D
Friday, April 1: Day 15
Party! Today is the party inviting the new URR volunteers to the region. But of course, have to cross the river to get to where everyone is.
Item: River crossing Cost: 10D Remaining: 198D
I was worried about this party, and knew it’d be a big money day, so I thought ahead and planned what I thought was a cheap side dish. Mangos are free for the taking, onions and peppers and limes are everywhere… mango salsa it is. There are no tortilla chips on this side of the country though, so I had to buy loaves of bread to dip. Disaster.
Item: Mango salsa and bread Cost: 44D Remaining: 154D
I had resigned myself to only drink water for the entire month. No 5 dalasi packets of juice, no cokes (normally I drink like two every day when I’m in Basse), and no beer (no big thing – I’m not a big drinker). However, tonight was the night for epic flip cup to happen and I could not NOT play… I love games!
Item: An epic night of flip cup (2 beers) Cost: 50D Remaining: 104D
Halftime Reflections: I’m halfway through and have spent two thirds of my available funds… It’s been ok so far, but crossing the river is really getting to me. I think that I can make it, but if anything crazy comes up (any expenditures over 25D), I’m gonna be cutting it close.
Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion of a dollar a day.
Here’s the finances:
The conversion rate on the day I started was 30 dalasis to one dollar, which was a lucky break for me. Normally, it’s like 28. So, for the month, I got a total of 900 dalasis.
Each month, I pay my family 600 dalasis for housing and feeding me. This is the equivalent of about twenty dollars… not a bad deal.
This leaves me with 300 dalasis for the thirty day experiment or ten dalasis per day.
Just so we’re clear before I claim to actual know what living on a dollar a day is like, I want to make it clear that I cheated.
I stocked up on pounds of oatmeal, lots of phone credit, and peanut butter galore.
I have packages coming from America filled with things I need. I have a pretty reliable bicycle to get around.
My family cooks all meals for me. The Peace Corps med unit provides supplies that Gambians either don’t have access to, or have to buy if they need.
Still… it’s a challenge.
Friday, March 18: Day One
I was confident I could go at least the first day without spending any money. But, while I was away in Kombo, our food situation at school changed, and now teachers buy their own bread for lunch.
Item: Half bread Cost: 2D Remaining: 298D
Disaster. I went to a Nyakoi Sport Committee meeting, and was asked for my membership fee, and also back pay for last month.
Item: Membership in an organization where I can’t understand most of what goes on.
Cost: 50D Remaining: 248D
Saturday, March 19: Day 2
I crossed the river to go to Basse to coach a basketball team that rarely shows up.
Item: Boat crossing Cost: 10D Remaining: 238D
Returned across the river after no one showed up for basketball… again.
Item: Boat crossing Cost: 10D Remaining: 228D
March 20 – March 26:
Spent no money… and it feels so good.
Sunday, March 27: Day 9
Sent a letter to a reader of my blog to thank her for a killer gift. I included a 5D bill.
Item: 5 dalasis Cost: 5D Remaining: 223D
Monday, March 28: Day 10
The power of the sun can’t keep up with my phone battery usage, so I had to pay someone to charge it for me.
Item: Charge Cost: 5D Remaining: 218D
School ran out of food, so I had to contribute for lunch. I could go home and get free lunch, but I have to teach a lesson, and lunch at home will be over.
Item: Lunch contribution Cost: 10D Remaining: 208D
Friday, April 1: Day 15
Party! Today is the party inviting the new URR volunteers to the region. But of course, have to cross the river to get to where everyone is.
Item: River crossing Cost: 10D Remaining: 198D
I was worried about this party, and knew it’d be a big money day, so I thought ahead and planned what I thought was a cheap side dish. Mangos are free for the taking, onions and peppers and limes are everywhere… mango salsa it is. There are no tortilla chips on this side of the country though, so I had to buy loaves of bread to dip. Disaster.
Item: Mango salsa and bread Cost: 44D Remaining: 154D
I had resigned myself to only drink water for the entire month. No 5 dalasi packets of juice, no cokes (normally I drink like two every day when I’m in Basse), and no beer (no big thing – I’m not a big drinker). However, tonight was the night for epic flip cup to happen and I could not NOT play… I love games!
Item: An epic night of flip cup (2 beers) Cost: 50D Remaining: 104D
Halftime Reflections: I’m halfway through and have spent two thirds of my available funds… It’s been ok so far, but crossing the river is really getting to me. I think that I can make it, but if anything crazy comes up (any expenditures over 25D), I’m gonna be cutting it close.
Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion of a dollar a day.
Lunch Bowl Conversations
Two days in a row, at the lunch food bowl, teachers have had the following argument completely in Mandinka. If this conversation was to hold place in a courtroom, here’s how it’d go.
Prosecution: We accuse aforementioned fat teacher of being pregnant.
Defendant: We stand by the defendant’s word that she is not pregnant.
Prosecution: We wish to enter the following two pieces of information into consideration
1. The defendant is fat.
2. She doesn’t feel good today.
I’m no doctor, but to me, that means pregnancy.
Defendant: I can explain all of that. Please enter these two nuggets of info as exhibits A and B.
A. My client is not pregnant
B. She’s just fat
And, ladies and gentleman of the jury, to further prove it, my client will lift her shirt, showing her high waisted skirt and full view of her undergarments, and wiggle her fat around to prove there is no baby there. Fat teacher, if you would.
Prosecution: Objection, your honor! If we are not allowed to poke and prod at that fat, how can we know it’s real.
Judge: Sustained. You may poke and prod.
Prosecution: (after many minutes of jiggling, squeezing, shaking, and poking) No further questions your honor.
Prosecution: We accuse aforementioned fat teacher of being pregnant.
Defendant: We stand by the defendant’s word that she is not pregnant.
Prosecution: We wish to enter the following two pieces of information into consideration
1. The defendant is fat.
2. She doesn’t feel good today.
I’m no doctor, but to me, that means pregnancy.
Defendant: I can explain all of that. Please enter these two nuggets of info as exhibits A and B.
A. My client is not pregnant
B. She’s just fat
And, ladies and gentleman of the jury, to further prove it, my client will lift her shirt, showing her high waisted skirt and full view of her undergarments, and wiggle her fat around to prove there is no baby there. Fat teacher, if you would.
Prosecution: Objection, your honor! If we are not allowed to poke and prod at that fat, how can we know it’s real.
Judge: Sustained. You may poke and prod.
Prosecution: (after many minutes of jiggling, squeezing, shaking, and poking) No further questions your honor.
Carnage
*I wanted to write this article with a surprise ending, but in this age of African uproar and widespread violence in the news, I’m going to give away the ending before you get too caught up in my vivid imagery… it’s a monkey.*
After today, I will never be the same… I saw one of my ancestors being savagely slaughtered and butchered for his meat.
I watched as the murderer cut off each foot. Each hand.
On one detached hand, the fingers lay splayed to the sides, still rigid in fear and shock at actually having been captured. The other lonely hand seems to have accepted it… its large knuckles curve slightly into a moon shape, seeming to finger the fine grained red dust as a last acknowledgement of beauty in the world the victim would never see again.
I watched the butcher carelessly crack bones apart at the joints.
I stared at the victim’s vacant eyes, and, perhaps out of subconscious sympathy, my mouth took on the same slack jawed look of disbelief.
After fully dismembering the body, the butcher reached into the chest cavity, and like savage sacrificial offerings of the past, pulled all of the innards out… something was still fastened, so in a sick chain of events, the innards pulled on the muscles, the muscles pulled the spine, and the head sickening descended into the neck, if only momentarily.
After apparent eons of agony, they finally hacked off the head. THWACK, THWACK, THWACK, and it rolled away. Grinning like the maniacs they are, the butchers chased it down, and held it dangling equidistant from their mad smiles and my face, then offered it to me as a gift. I took cautious steps backwards, not wanting to anger them with my revulsion, but not wanting to appear too eager either.
The cloud of flies was immense; the crowd of people was too. I cautiously picked my way backwards, never losing eye contact with the disembodied head and its sad, dead eyes.
I found myself shocked that so many would want to witness this carnage, but unable to pull myself away.
And later that day, just to say I did… I ate a piece of the victim.
Yes… I ate monkey.
After today, I will never be the same… I saw one of my ancestors being savagely slaughtered and butchered for his meat.
I watched as the murderer cut off each foot. Each hand.
On one detached hand, the fingers lay splayed to the sides, still rigid in fear and shock at actually having been captured. The other lonely hand seems to have accepted it… its large knuckles curve slightly into a moon shape, seeming to finger the fine grained red dust as a last acknowledgement of beauty in the world the victim would never see again.
I watched the butcher carelessly crack bones apart at the joints.
I stared at the victim’s vacant eyes, and, perhaps out of subconscious sympathy, my mouth took on the same slack jawed look of disbelief.
After fully dismembering the body, the butcher reached into the chest cavity, and like savage sacrificial offerings of the past, pulled all of the innards out… something was still fastened, so in a sick chain of events, the innards pulled on the muscles, the muscles pulled the spine, and the head sickening descended into the neck, if only momentarily.
After apparent eons of agony, they finally hacked off the head. THWACK, THWACK, THWACK, and it rolled away. Grinning like the maniacs they are, the butchers chased it down, and held it dangling equidistant from their mad smiles and my face, then offered it to me as a gift. I took cautious steps backwards, not wanting to anger them with my revulsion, but not wanting to appear too eager either.
The cloud of flies was immense; the crowd of people was too. I cautiously picked my way backwards, never losing eye contact with the disembodied head and its sad, dead eyes.
I found myself shocked that so many would want to witness this carnage, but unable to pull myself away.
And later that day, just to say I did… I ate a piece of the victim.
Yes… I ate monkey.
Pity Me
Following is a list of dates and temperatures. All temperatures were taken at various times between 1:45 and 6 pm. I’ll let them speak for themselves.
March 18 114
March 19 108
March 20 109
March 21 106
March 22 112
March 23 113
March 24 106
March 25 116
March 18 114
March 19 108
March 20 109
March 21 106
March 22 112
March 23 113
March 24 106
March 25 116
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