Goat.

Today started as any other weekend morning, with the exception that Marc and Amos, my roommates, were making arrangements for a goat slaughter at our place in celebration of their completion at Mbola.  They've been taking surveys of people with blindness, finding those who have cataracts and lining them up for surgeries in a couple weeks.  The procedure can be done for a couple hundred dollars, and even as low as twenty dollars each eye in India.  Marc is asking questions for socio-economic indicators for later follow-up to measure the economic impact of restored sight.  

Anyways, goat slaughter.  Marc, Amos, and I hopped in the Nissan Land Cruiser with one of their enumerators (they administer the surveys).  First stop was to check out an outdoor patio/bar at which we were considering holding the event.  Decided against that, so we were off to meet another enumerator at his house.  Borrowed his large grill (strapped it to the roof), knives, and grabbed banana leaves on which we could prepare the feast.  He jumped in the car with us.  We stopped at the market to get the knives sharpened; this is accomplished with a bicycle setup where pedaling turns a bike wheel that uses a belt drive to turn a small grinding wheel.  Thomas Edison, eat your heart out.  After that we stopped at a soccer shop that one of the guy's brother owns to check out some jerseys.  Everything here is too small for a Midwest-grown mzungu.

Next we picked up two more guys, so now we were two mzungu, four Tanzanians, and a Kenyan in a Land Cruiser with three large, sharp knives, banana leaves, and a grill strapped to the roof.  We set out on the quest for the goat.

After slowing down and shouting out the window at a guy who happened to be walking a few small goats (and didn't want to sell) we headed north out of town, past a prison, past a military base, and well into the sticks on a rough dirt road (standard) where we inquired a random villager about buying a goat.  We parked the car and went on a ten minute walk away from the road to arrive at a home.  We were told to wait, and wait we did - probably 45 minutes to an hour.  A couple of us passed the time by climbing some mango trees with a few kids.  Finally, a farmer approached with a herd of fifteen or so goats.  One was selected (on what basis, I know not) and paid for (equivalent of $20 USD or so) and we haul it off to the Land Cruiser.  The pitch and timber of a goat's cry are truly unfortunate for someone who already sympathizes with animals; it's eerily similar to a small child crying.  Its legs were bound and it was placed in the back of the vehicle.   On sporadic occasion during the rough drive back to our house the goat would let out a cry and the whole lot of us would respond with gasps and laughter.  I know, not the PC response for a vegetarian.

We dropped the grill and goat off at the house and we headed back to town to the market.  We collected loads of fruit, veggies, and beer, and Marc was determined to find duck in addition to the goat.  Upon arrival at a small market to retrieve charcoal for the grill we talked to a man who said he could get us a goat.  So he hops in the car with us and we drive up to the top of a hill (with a great view) to his house.  He tells us to wait and he runs off.  After waiting 15 minutes or so, the guys realize he just scammed us out of a ride to his house at the top of the hill so he could take a nap.  We walked back to the car laughing hysterically and sans duck.

Having retrieved all our necessary accoutrement, we returned to the house where we prepared pineapple, guacamole, and watermelon while the other guys dealt with the goat.  If I had realized when they started I would have been present from the start, but I got to the scene a few minutes after the initial kill.  This was really only the first or second goat slaughter most of the Tanzanian guys had been to (needless to say, my first), though they had no trouble knowing what to do.  The night continued with plenty of beer and probably not enough food for the number of people that showed.  We never ended up cooking the rice so I was fairly unsatisfied and inebriated as a result.  I will admit that I tried the goat.  It was a once in a lifetime (hopefully) occasion and I felt that, socially and culturally, I'd be missing something by not participating (what I wasn't sure).

On the whole, it seems to me that the general disregard of animals' capacity for pain and suffering is universal.  I don't think the attitudes here towards animals are much different than those in the States.  I think some American carnivores would have had no problem witnessing or participating in the goat slaughter.  But it also seems to me that a lot of people who eat meat and would indeed eat goat would be uncomfortable with witnessing or participating in the slaughter; this speaks to the disconnect between us and our food sources - physical and cognitive.  If you wouldn't personally kill an animal for your own consumption, how is it justifiable to eat meat?  Definitely interested to hear any takes on this; vegetarians are usually the ones asked to defend their position.  I have a whole host of thoughts on vegetarianism (and had started to draft a lot of them for this post) but I figured this question was the most relevant to the aforementioned experience and this isn't really the blog for expounding on said thoughts.