Sunday, September 23, 2007

I killed my first chicken last night

Well let me rephrase that… I had an important role in the demise of a poor chicken but it was not I who dealt the final blow. Here if you want chicken there are no supermarkets with selected cuts of meat nicely organized and wrapped tightly under cellophane. There are no isles to peruse deciding if you want chicken breasts, thighs or drumsticks. Here if you want chicken you get the whole chicken, but you get to meet the chicken first! The chicken market is an assortment of roughly built cages stuffed with chickens, roosters and guinea-fowl. It smells a little like feathers, dirt and corn, and the clucking of chickens can be heard in high volume. We approached a vendor who reached into the cage and pulled two different chickens out of the cage, grabbing them by the feet. The vendor handed the two flapping and squawking chickens to Boris to choose based on their weight. Boris stood there one chicken in each hand unsure how to really tell the difference, then one of the chickens decided to try to escape by trying to peck at his hand. That was a sorry choice as it became its act of self sacrifice. This feisty chicken was soon to be our dinner. I have to admit that I was a little squeamish with the idea of playing a role in the end of this feisty chicken, as I kind of respected its attempt to liberate itself. The chicken though complacent only due to its inability to challenge the hand that held it, was carried away to the cleaning area. It only took a second, really, and this chicken was no longer a bird but instead dinner. I was surprised at how fast and efficient they were in removing all the feathers and cutting it up into pieces. We headed home with a bag of chicken. I was feeling a little guilty.

I decided that I needed to get over my fear of the chicken so opened up the bag to wash the meat. Head to feet were in there with an eye watching me. I found as long as ignored the head I had no problem with the rest of it. Once I started to cook it I was much more at ease and it felt like normal chicken from the supermarket. In the end dinner was delicious and we shared it with two friends.

2 comments:

The Hayes Family said...

Bonjour Mlle.
Je pense que je ve le poulet de la super market instead, je veux de cete l`histoire le next temps que je mange le poulet
Avoir
Abby

Heids said...

Hi Alanna!

So I have been negligent in reading all of your blogs - but have thought of you often - especially now that a good EWB friend of mine took a CIDA internship in Burkina! Now I have three reasons to visit... on one large financial one not too! Arggg.

I am scouting out blogs as I have never made one before - and boy is yours nice!

I love this chicken story - thank you so much for sharing the little things with us - the real and daily experiences that make Burkina your home.

Tell the B-factor that all is well in typical carleton EWB-past-president GCC scouting and that Phil Wood says Hi and reads his blog!

Take care and stay out of your comfort zone (and writing about it!)

-Heidi