All Chickened Out

On Friday I had my first really difficult cross-cultural experience so far in Moz - not with a member of our host family or with someone in the market, but with a chicken. Poor little chicken! Our Portuguese classes had cooking lessons on Friday with our host mothers. We met at my (Janet) house and cooked over coal stoves in the backyard (instead of on the gas range in our modern indoor kitchen to be more authentic). On the menu: matapa (manioc leaves with coconut and peanuts), xima (maize paste very bland), rice and ... frangu (chicken). There they were, two scrawny white chickens tied up in a basket.

Now I had decided that it would be a good learning experience to kill the animal that i am about to eat. I thought I´d feel more connected to my food (can you hear ´The Circle of Life´from the Lion King playing the background?). We Americans don´t have the opportunity to see the animals we eat everyday. They just arrive in little styrofoam packets from the market, all ready to go. So I thought this would be cool, I can handle gross stuff usually pretty well, it would be interesting but fine.

Well when I was handed the knife, I wasn´t fine anymore. My heart was racing, I was starting to doubt myself. Then they gave me the chicken by the wings, I had to stand on them with one foot, stand on the legs with the other, hold the beak shut with my left hand and - gulp- cut with my right.

I was thoroughly freaked out at this point. I squealed like a baby, closed my eyes and started to cut. It took awhile because the knife wasnt super sharp and becáuse my eye were closed. It was horrible. I was honestly so shocked at how difficult it was, emotionally, for me. I eat chicken all the time! How could I not stay rational and practical and just be businesslike about it like our Mozambiquan friends? I was trembling for at least a half hour after, mostly coming off a huge adrenaline rush.

My friend Megan killed the other one with a similar reaction. Well the fun didn´t stop there. We still had to pluck with things. You dip the carcass in boiling water to loosen the feathers (it smells rather unpleasant) and then it cook 10 to 15 minutes to get all them off. Then we had to cut it up, take out the innards and marinate it with garlic, tomato and onion. At this point it looked similar to what I know chicken as at home.

When it came time to eat, I was hoping to feel some sort of deeper meaning to the experience, like, wow, now I understand where it came from and I can appreciate it better! Mmm... not so much. It was delicious chicken, but no revelations as yet. I don´t think we will be eating much meat when we get to site!