I love life in Asia. It’s raw, it’s real, it holds nothing back. In America we live somewhat sanitized lives. We walk into the grocery store with our neatly packaged offerings, slaughtered far away in secret. Have you ever seen a “slaughter house” sign with an arrow while driving down the road? Three months ago I was in Nepal, in a region known as the Terai, where tourists do not wander, for it is the mountains they desire. The terai is the hot, humid plains, and life there is lived without interference. I happened upon this scene while waiting for a friend to arrive back from an errand. It was a scene of normal day to day life, people gathered around a folding card table to buy and sell meat.
Once that table of meat was sold and there were plenty of customers awaiting their turn, it was then that I caught a glimpse of life as it has been told for centuries.
I have visited a slaughter house once in my life and let me tell you that the pigs that were killed there did not die instantly; some even went through a long suffering before they stopped moving. I think we are somehow hypocrite as a society by not wanting to look at photos like that but having our daily ration of meat in our plates.
There is no question that you see the meat on your plate differently when it buy it directly from the butchers. Sometimes you even think, rice and dhaal will be just fine tonight.
Reblogged this on Oyia Brown.
I don’t think I could ever slaughter an animal I was intending to eat, but ‘when in Rome…….” maybe I wouldn’t have a choice as I have digestive problems with lentils/beans etc and further stomach issues with grains & dairy, so it’s meat, meat, meat or fish (& veggies/eggs/fruit) for me. I do love my Basmati rice though.
I think it important that children (of a reasonable age) know where their dinner comes from and how it is procured. People have choices in life & diet……… just we westerners in cities have more choices (than poorer village people of the East & South-east).
Yeah, it’s good to know, just to make informed decisions
Where I used to live in India the butchers was literally under a staircase it may have smelt awful but the guy who worked there was so lovely.
Yeah, as I wrote this I could smell the alleyways in Leh, Ladakh, where the Muslim butcher chopped the meat the Buddhists bought. Pungent, raw and real as life itself.
Pungent is the right word
These photos take me back to Albania where the slaughtering of a goat or young calf happened right on the side of the road….and sometimes in our yard! It was not uncommon for us to come home and find our landlord washing the blood from his hands and a skinned goat hanging from the clothes line and him washing away the blood from his the concrete yard. The slaughter house was right by a large, open air fresh fruit and vegetable market. The smelly fish market was right behind the fruits and veggies! My beloved had some adjustments to these when I first took my new bride back to Albania!
I bet she did Charley, I bet she did.
I need a secretary to proofread my comments before I click “send”!!!
Life as it is. My gran used to kill the chiken and rabbits when she was young. This is how meat ends up on our plates. Better to look at it and accept it, or change our way of eating… Our society is super hypocritical, if you ask me. Thanks for sharing!
It was fascinating just to see life as it’s lived in rural Nepal.