Killing a chicken

During language training, I went with Jenny and a few other friends for a dinner visit. We’d bought eggs, cheese and bread, intending to make egg and cheese sandwiches. They, however, had bigger plans.

When I’d visited the previous week the most noticeable changes from 3 months ago when I left Nyanza were how big Teta has grown and the dozen or so chickens running around the backyard, providing a new subject for Bosco’s antics. They keep the chickens in the room adjoining their kitchen, the window outfitted with chicken wire that is impressively if inexplicably electrified (as if the chickens could get through non-electrified chicken wire?).

In our honor, they decided to kill a chicken. I was the only one excited enough to watch, and in fact I’m planning to adopt the med school axiom of “see one, do one, teach one” next time I get a chance. Here are some pictures, not for the faint of heart or vegetarians.

It was roasted a bit before we butchered and stewed it. Below right, Jenny reacts to below left.

The chicken was delicious, even though we didn’t eat until after 11pm.

If you think this is gruesome, I'm still in the Peace Corps Minor Leagues compared to my high school friend St. John who helped butcher a pig in Paraguay! (This post is backdated so yes, that link is in the "future")