This post not suitable for vegetarians

I came home this evening to most of the household outside sweeping and cleaning the yard in front of our house. Apparently we will be having a celebration tomorrow. What exactly we are celebrating I’m not sure yet. From what I have gathered so far it sounds like a family reunion.

As I’m watching my dadas and kakas sweep and rake the front yard, one of my kakas, Zakaria, approached me and said with a bit of condescending doubt in his voice, “Tyler, this physical labor. Can you do?” He smiled. Apparently my look of utter helplessness when it comes to any type of physical labor is universal. I said, “Of course I can! What do you want me to do?” He went on to show me how he was using a gardening hoe to remove the grass and weeds scattered throughout the rocky, sandy ground that is our front yard. (Ironically as much as we in the US try to grow grass for our yards, they do all they can to get rid of it.) I took the hoe from him and started attempting to remove the weeds as he had done, but was afraid of exactly how deep I should dig into the ground and so went about it a bit timidly. “Is it too hard for you?” He asked, “You can’t do?” “Well, yes, I can,” I tried to explain, “But I don’t completely understand. I don’t want to dig holes in the ground. Should I?” His English wasn’t really good enough to keep up with my barrage of frustrated and helpless questions. He took the hoe and showed me again before giving it back to me. This time I took no prisoners and dug deep into every blade of grass that dared to cross my gaze. “Fantastic!” He exclaimed. “Nzuri, nzuri. I go to see my friend now.” He quickly mentioned before leaving me with the hoe and half of a yard to finish. I didn’t mind however, I was really just happy to be able to participate.

Cleaning the yard wasn’t the only chore in need of doing to prepare for the party tomorrow. (Which I have now learned is just a family party. Thanks to Gracie, who is now sitting next to me. UPDATE: Turns out this gathering was the actually celebrate Grace's birthday. How she didn't know or why she didn't want to tell me I do not know.) With any good party there is of course, good food. And in this case, we will be having goat. And where does one get a good cut of goat in Tanzania? Our backyard of course! Apparently the pride a father feels in Tanzania for his grilling skills are less about actual cooking and more about the slaughtering and butchering of the animal to be cooked. My baba was more than enthusiastic to share the experience and made sure I knew he was an “expert” when it came to butchering. He seemed to really enjoy doing it as well, the fun parts at least. He left some of the more tedious jobs to our houseboy Joram. No one in my family was actually responsible for killing the animal. Instead, the man who brought the goat took the responsibility for cutting the goats throat and eventually its entire head off. (I told you this was not vegetarian-friendly, wait until you see the photos!) Brie, a fellow trainee who lives just down the road from me and who’s mama is apparently good friends with my mama (and also a vegetarian) came just in time to see the goat take some of his last gasps. She missed the more gruesome action, but saw the result all the same. Apparently they are invited to the celebration tomorrow. She, of course, will not be sharing in this particular part of the feast. It did make for a great discussion about the experience however. I’m not sure I can really put into words what it felt like to watch my food actually become my food. It was a thrilling experience I will keep with me forever, and I’m glad I got to share in it with my family here in Tanzania.

Even more exciting is that we get to eat it tomorrow! I’m not sure yet exactly how we will be preparing it, but I do think they were putting some of the parts in the same pots they use to boil my morning bucket bath. Tomorrow morning might be cold…

Photos! Note - These photos are a bit graphic in nature. Proceed at your own discretion.