A village, an anthropologist, two goats and a meal...

Carrying the goat.

Killing.

I don’t claim to be an expert on goat killing now, but all I know is, that you better try a different method, because it’ll take an awful lot of time this way. Here you see the goat still agonizing, bleeding, screaming and occasionally making an attempt to creep away. The smell of sweat, blood, saliva, urine and faeces mixes with the sweetness and stickyness of the forest odors. I am definetly not hungry anymore. In fact I feel dizzy and, to put it mildly, very uncomfortable. One of the animals dies after 10 minutes, but the other is incredibly strong. Its skull is nearly recognizable, but it would not give up. Both of them are carried down a hill to a nearby creek. While Lenny starts to cut of legs and head of the one, the other is still breathing and moving. The laughs stopped by now. “This one has the devil in it” remarks Iain, half joking, half serious. Finally I make a suggestion about the possibility of using a knife to shorten the process and lucky enough a man has one and cuts the throat. I have a quick gaze at my watch: 30 minutes it took. I am just glad its over.

Agonizing goat.

Preparation.

The corpses are laid on pieces of palm tree leaves. Lenny starts to remove the skin, his son watching carefully, so that he learns the business. He is allowed to make an occasional incision, but Lenny is a perfectionist and criticises him. With the precision of a surgeon he removes first the feet, cuts open the skin on the belly, peels out the legs and removes the skin from the back to the head. The head is cut.

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