The Bull

11/07/05

After I watched the bull get killed I walked up to Robert's place and then we carried on to a lady (Monica)'s place a kilometer or two north of the A1. I had asked Robert to find some villagers that he could convince to get tested at a VCT. This lady talked about having wanted to get tested but being unable to because of lack of money for transport and confusion about what she would do if she tested positive. Robert counseled her well (in Kiluo, we translated it later and I got to see how the conversation was.) I had him offer to pay her transport costs and she readily agreed to get tested on Friday. I should be able to film the process.

Next we went up to a widow group a kilometer or two south of the A1 for Robert to do more counseling. This was a strange situation, hard to explain, but not all that glitters is gold…As if reading my mind, as we walked away, Robert said, 'you know, that lady (the chairwoman of the group) hasn't even known her status, and she was even discouraging those ladies I just counseled from going to VCT. She sees HIV as a way to make money.' She had even told me, in so many words, that if the group was to receive assistance, she would use it to fix her house. And when I brought up microfinance, I had to explain the concept, and when I got to the repayment part she looked at me like I was a crazy person.

The bull. I had wanted to see this for a long time. I thought it might even make a vegetarian. They kill one cow a week in the village. 7am on Monday. I woke up and took a quick bucket bath in the chilly dawn air. I dressed quick and told Othies that I would take breakfast at 7:45am. I walked down the A1 to the Center. I saw the butcher, Toto, and we greeted each other. I followed him under a low tin roof, I had to duck to pass, and then back through a thin path cut between dense sugar cane. He was leading the oblivious bull, whom I had named Pete. We came to a clearing in the cane. There was a simple structure there, two vertical posts, one horizontal cross bar about 10 feet up in the air, above a concrete slab that had a slight pitch and an opening at the front, which led to a small canal. When Pete came to the clearing, it seemed to me that he could sense what was happening, and he started to put up a fight. But it was far too late. There were already a man and a young boy there, and another man carrying two knives was following me. They worked together to get resistant Pete onto the 'altar.' They carefully tied his back feet together, laid him on his side, and then tied his front feet off too. Toto took Pete's head and turned it upside down, his horns scraping the concrete and his neck exposed to the sky. He tied it off to a post in the concrete. But Pete broke loose! But only his head, his feet were still tied tight. So Toto got him in position again, tied him off again even tighter, and then put his boot on Pete's neck for good measure. The assistant had been sharpening the knives on a stone, and now came and rested a blade against Pete's neck. There was a momentary pause. I noticed what a nice morning it was, blue skies and a cool breeze. Then the assistant quickly cut a thin slice of flesh off the neck, exposing white, and then about a foot down he started to saw deep. Pete let out a strange breath, I think it came from the whole in his neck, like a packet of air was suddenly released, his body shivered, and the bright red blood started to flow fast. The young boy came with a bucket and tried to catch all that he could, and it was thick and frothy as it accumulated. Toto pointed out to his assistant a place to make another cut. When he did, Pete contorted, straining against the ropes, and each time Pete's body convulsed blood would shoot from its severed aorta, past the bucket, nearly onto my shoes. After some excruciating seconds, the blood slowed and stopped. Pete fell silent. I said, "Soup" and everyone laughed loud. They had been talking and laughing the whole time. Toto said, "this one is ready" and then Pete started convulsing again and Toto said, "almost ready." Finally, Pete let go. Then Toto and his crew went to work. Starting from where the first cut was made they began to skin it. They were very efficient, the skin came off easy. But the process was long. They took special care around the skull. After Toto had removed the skin, he severed Pete's head entirely, his glazed eyes still perfectly in tact, staring. Toto took the skinless severed head, those fucking glazed bulging eyes, and carelessly tossed it to the side of the altar (but after he removed a big chunk of aorta, he went and gingerly tried to balance it on the skull. As soon as he turned his back it slid off, onto the cement.) I was impressed that all the skin was coming off in one piece. As they went to work on the lower half of the body I took a closer look at the sinewy muscle tissue and noticed that it was still twitching. All of those muscle fibers still contracting and releasing, minutes after the head had been carelessly tossed away. Toto made it to the legs. He cut around the hooves and then snapped them off, one by one, the sound of the bones breaking in his hands somehow even more gruesome the rest. Toto tossed the hooves away and then made slits in the leg muscles, and the young boy helped him slide a long pole through the holes. Then they tied a rope off to each end and threw them over the crossbar, a crude pulley. They struggled to hoist Pete's body into the air, his skin still in one piece, hanging onto his back. It was almost 8am, and as much as I wanted to see the rest of the process, I had to go take breakfast.

I was certain that I would be served beef for dinner. I was correct. I asked Othies if it was the same cow. It was. (I showed him the video while I chewed Pete, my cud.)

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