We all woke up early this morning for our 6:30 am breakfast. It was such a sad morning that I could barely enjoy my breakfast of granola, frutas, toast with jam, queso, and gallo pinto. Between paying off tabs, signing the guest book, writing a thank-you card to Fabriciaceae, and taking our last group pictures, I'm surprised that we weren't all in tears all morning. Somehow we all managed to keep it together. Okay, fine, I totally broke down when the bus pulled away with everybody except me and Tess on it, but I thought it was just going to be a fat sob fest all morning and it wasn't at all. I guess we aren't as sappy as I thought.

After everybody left I went back to my room and started packing all of my stuff. It has been reproducing behind my back apparently because I came with a backpack and 2 duffels, and now have a third duffel and a box full of coffee and cookies in addition to that. Slightly ridiculous, I'm aware.

So I hauled all my stuff out of D2 and up to the storage shed, then I took my third duffel with me over to my fam's house. I was trying to hurry because today was chicken-killing day at the Garro-Cruz residence, and mi padre told me that he was starting early. i was worried that I was going to miss it because I didn't leave campus til almost 9. Ha! I didn't realize that chicken-killing is an all-day event..

Disclaimer: The following paragraphs are not to be read by the weak-stomached.

I got there at like 9:15 and mi abuelo was at the bottom of the driveway with a big sloppy kiss waiting for me. Oh, abuelito. So then I dropped my bag at the door and went and joined the fam at the chicken coop. The fun had already begun. I kind of just stood in awe at first, taking it all in. Chicken-killing is a surprisingly intricate and tedious process. First, papi chooses the fattest, healthiest chickens from the coop. Then, three at a time they are placed upside-down in milk jugs that have the tops and bottoms cut off so as to best suit a chicken's body. The chickens get panicky at this point, so it's Kevin's job to hold them by their feet while they squirm. Then mi padre or Keilor takes a machete and makes two clean (or not so clean in Keilor's case) slits in the chicken's throat. 

Here's Keilor slitting a throat..

 

And Kevin holding the feet..

I watched, wide-eyed and completely enthralled, as the slits were made and blood streamed into the running water that ran beneath the milk jugs. Then I saw that the chickens were struggling more than ever and that their eyes were open and panicked and looking at me accusingly. I told mi padre that they were looking at me and I must have looked sad because he immediately grabbed me by the shoulders and started to steer me back towards the house, but I told him that I was seriously fine so long as he didn't make me hold the feet like Kevin. He asked five more times if I was sure that I was okay, and I assured him that I was. Sweet padre. So after the chickens stop struggling, they are lined up on the lower level of the counter.

Then, mi padre brings a bucket of boiling water fresh off the fire over to the patio where it all goes down. He grabs one of the chickens and dips it into the boiling water feet-first, then flips it over so it's head-first and proceeds to peel off the yellow skin from the feet. Then he checks to see if the tail feathers come out easily and flops it down, dropping wet in scalding hot water, onto the upper level of the counter. The first chicken always went to Kevin, the second to Keilor, and the third to Marta and I. Since I was a newbie, I just apprenticed with Marta at first. I followed her lead--tail feathers first, then wings, then body. I was shy with the feathers by the butt and by the bloody neck, and left those for Marta, but I kind of really enjoyed plucking the rest of the feathers. They came out easily at first, in big chunks, but as the skin cooled it got harder. I made the mistake of pulling out a chunk against the grain when the chicken had started to cool, and came away with a chunk of skin. Barf. Marta said it happens and that it wasn't a big deal, then she showed me how to avoid it. Marta and I did a few chickens together in that first round, then we changed jobs. After the initial pluck by hand, the chickens get toasted in the oven for a minute so that the remaining feathers get black and burnt tips. Then me, Marta, and mi madre each grabbed a pair of tweezers and a freshly toasted chicken and did work. We tweezed every remaining feather on those chickens until they were all covered in yellow goose bumps. It's a beautiful thing, a perfectly naked chicken corpse. The fam was really impressed with my tweezing work. Go me.

Here's mi madre tweezing

After tweezing the chickens are put on another counter where the chopping boards are...Kevin and mi padre would each grab a chicken and a machete and go to town. First they sliced open the butt, then a cut here and a cut there so that they could pull out all of the insides. The noise was sickk. Then Keilor and I sorted through the pile of insides. Hearts, necks, and stomachs for keeps and heads, bladders, and intestines go into the "sopa." Kevin and Keilor tried to tell me that we were going to eat the sopa later. I'm gullible, but I'm not that gullible. Honestly. They also kept shoving various chicken innards near my face. Yay for brothers.

SOPA

After Round 1 it was time for a snack. Mi abuelita had fixed tortillas with some meaty spread. It was way good. Kevin and Keilor tried to get me to eat these blue gel balls. I made Keilor eat one first, then refused to eat one myself because he looked like he was going to puke when he thought I wasn't looking. Wahaha. I win. Then we went back outside for Round 2.

This time I plucked feathers all by myself. Mi padre was so impressed with my work. I am obviously a natural-born chicken-killer. Then I helped Marta empty the chicken stomachs. She said that it was the best part because it was so fun. She showed me where to slit it open with the machete and then how to peel out the stomach lining with all of the corn and feed in it. I made an absolute mess of my first one and got chicken feed all in the fat deposits that were still clinging onto the stomach. I couldn't even wash it off right. Kevin laughed at me. Beeotch. I got better the more I did it, but still wasn't great. I don't think that stomach purging is my calling. Then I helped Marta with the feet. She chopped off the tips of the fingers and the hardened palms, then passed it to me so I could scrub it down. Kind of creepy. Then I did more tweezing. We all sat with our toasted chickens in our laps and listened to Kevin crack jokes. Mi padre asked me to stay forever. I love my fam.

After we finished, Kevin and Keilor went to some church party and so I had lunch with Marta, mis padres y mi abuelita. We had rice, beans, steak and onions, and tortillas. Then mi padre gave me a piece of cake. Love him forever. I changed out of my chicken blood-stained pantalones and into warm clothes because it is so cold here now. It's all the wind. It's killing me. Then we all went on a walk to abuelita's house. I loved walking around with my fam. I felt so tica. They asked how old I was, and when I said almost 20 mi padre said that I was too old. He, like my own father, must like to think of me as a little girl. Then mi madre showed me how to walk like a Rodriguez. They thought it was really cute how I said Rodriguez and kept making me say it. I didn't mind.

Abuelita has a huge house, but all of the torrential rains from a few weeks back totally destroyed the foundation and now her walls have split and there are huge cracks all in the floors. Mi madre told me that abuelita has to live with Olivier's brother because it's too dangerous to live in her house and so she's really sad about it. Mi padre went and got mandarin oranges from the trees. They were so good. Mi padre kept telling me to eat more because my fam wants me to be fat. I ate 3. Then we walked home and every person we passed we had to stop and chat with them. One couple had food on them, so we all got pastries. Then we stopped in the pulperia for coffee. We also ran into mi abuelo and Lucas (little Lucas, not 42-year-old gardener).

For dinner we had omelettes and rice and beans. It was delicious. Then we watched Lara Croft: Tomb Raider. It was awesome, especially since I am Lara Croft: Lagoon Raider. I love Angelina Jolie. We also watched Tom Yum Goong. Also awesome. I love watching action movies in Spanish because there is minimal dialogue. We didn't dance because everyone's backs were hurting. Que tristessa. However, I couldn't help but notice the newest addition to the Garro-Cruz household: a FAT cd player. I think that my fam is loaded. So then we all went to bed. I am exhausted. Chicken-killing really takes it out of you.

peace love and chicken killing