The thing about catching a chicken is that even when you have it cornered, you still have to actually grab it and deal with its effort to be free.
And the thing about slaughtering a chicken is that even when you're on top of it, even when it's subdued, and even when you have the knife pressed to its throat, you still have be willing to cut hard.
But the consequence of slicing hard is that you know the consequence of it is watching her bleed away, Knowing you did it, and you better be fine with it because you're willing to eat the food God has given you. Apologies, I use religion here because the first reason why I choose to kill the meat I eat is because I should know the consequences of my actions, and I only use God's name for this heinous action.
Who else would I call out for when I do something so distressing?
I've killed four before in Bangladesh, with the chicken held down for me each time, and each time making some blunder or another, but this time was the first time I caught the chicken, killed it with no one else holding it, plucked it, and cut it.
But everyone's a teacher, including in this case, circumstance.
Dave, who was in Mali for a year as a Peace Corps volunteer, gave some really solid advice, that everyone's a teacher here, and that we can learn so much by just observing and putting ourselves out there. He also told me to stay in site for the first two months and if I ever get the urge to go back to comfort, calling friends, family or other volunteers, just go out and learn.
He told me that as an extrovert, he gained energy just from learning from others, though I'm not sure what I am (I test as an extrovert but I'm pretty sure I come off as introverted), I'll take that to heart and once in a while blog about the people I meet who have become my teachers.
In this case, I came to the Peace Corps to just learn and force myself through harsh circumstances to learn. In this case, circumstance taught me what I'm slowly beginning to conceptualize; you must have the agency to perform the actions you want to do. In this case, catch the chicken, as in, dive in and not be scared off by the energy emitted from her struggle. And in the later situation, be willing to go all the way.
Howa, my host sister, taught me a lot in her patience with me and is always willing to just be helpful. Together, we cut the chicken after peeling it (which unlike Bangladesh, where we just tear off the skin after death, they boil the chicken to then tediously pluck each feather out), and I watched her as she cut through bone and guided me through the process.
After that, we did what I've been doing everyday, practiced martial arts. After reading a manuscript from Bruce Lee, I decided that with her learning, I would focus less on teaching her my technique, and guide her to what makes sense and is comfortable for her.
In his words; "The way is no way", in that we should learn from every situation and let everyone and everything be our teachers, so that our lack of form shapes us into beautiful and unique human beings.
So, the cup is indeed empty, for we are willing to drink deep from life. Thank God we're lucky to be alive here in this universe, for we can change, and we can grow.
And the thing about slaughtering a chicken is that even when you're on top of it, even when it's subdued, and even when you have the knife pressed to its throat, you still have be willing to cut hard.
But the consequence of slicing hard is that you know the consequence of it is watching her bleed away, Knowing you did it, and you better be fine with it because you're willing to eat the food God has given you. Apologies, I use religion here because the first reason why I choose to kill the meat I eat is because I should know the consequences of my actions, and I only use God's name for this heinous action.
Who else would I call out for when I do something so distressing?
I've killed four before in Bangladesh, with the chicken held down for me each time, and each time making some blunder or another, but this time was the first time I caught the chicken, killed it with no one else holding it, plucked it, and cut it.
But everyone's a teacher, including in this case, circumstance.
Dave, who was in Mali for a year as a Peace Corps volunteer, gave some really solid advice, that everyone's a teacher here, and that we can learn so much by just observing and putting ourselves out there. He also told me to stay in site for the first two months and if I ever get the urge to go back to comfort, calling friends, family or other volunteers, just go out and learn.
He told me that as an extrovert, he gained energy just from learning from others, though I'm not sure what I am (I test as an extrovert but I'm pretty sure I come off as introverted), I'll take that to heart and once in a while blog about the people I meet who have become my teachers.
In this case, I came to the Peace Corps to just learn and force myself through harsh circumstances to learn. In this case, circumstance taught me what I'm slowly beginning to conceptualize; you must have the agency to perform the actions you want to do. In this case, catch the chicken, as in, dive in and not be scared off by the energy emitted from her struggle. And in the later situation, be willing to go all the way.
Howa, my host sister, taught me a lot in her patience with me and is always willing to just be helpful. Together, we cut the chicken after peeling it (which unlike Bangladesh, where we just tear off the skin after death, they boil the chicken to then tediously pluck each feather out), and I watched her as she cut through bone and guided me through the process.
After that, we did what I've been doing everyday, practiced martial arts. After reading a manuscript from Bruce Lee, I decided that with her learning, I would focus less on teaching her my technique, and guide her to what makes sense and is comfortable for her.
In his words; "The way is no way", in that we should learn from every situation and let everyone and everything be our teachers, so that our lack of form shapes us into beautiful and unique human beings.
So, the cup is indeed empty, for we are willing to drink deep from life. Thank God we're lucky to be alive here in this universe, for we can change, and we can grow.
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