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slaughter's day

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  • Antonio Carmona
    February 17th, 2004 Hello webheaders!!! How are you doing? I have been reading your websites lately, so now I feel part of this great and fascinating family.
    Message 1 of 6 , Feb 16, 2004
      February 17th, 2004



      Hello webheaders!!! How are you doing?



      I have been reading your websites lately, so now I feel part of this great and fascinating family. It�s just amazing and worthy of admiration, what Vance Stevens and his colleagues have been carrying out for such a long time. It�s a shame I didn�t know about webheads years ago. You help me so much to fly away from my everyday problems providing a marvellous opportinity to know the point of view of so many people from different countries.

      Yes, we are so different and so alike at the same time... It would be difficult to decide whether we should appreciate more what makes us different or alike.

      I am so glad Juani liked what I wrote about travelling. Well, Juani, you cannot imagine how much I would enjoy a visit to those places you describe in Chile. Dont you find it so funny to use a foreign language to comunicate with people who speak your own language?



      A few months ago I lived what I would describe as anunusual experience and I would like to share it with all of you:



      SLAUGHTER�S DAY



      It was the first weekend of November, when I was invited to visit a small village in the heart of Sierra Morena. There took place a very ancestral event, which used to be so common decades ago and now has become really extraordinary.

      A friend of mine told me that his parents were living in a small hamlet and that they had a tiny farm there. Knowing how much interested I felt about old costumes, which are getting lost, he thought I would enjoy the slaughter of one of the pigs they owned just as it had been done from time immemorial. I would be able to help them and see how his family made black pudding and many other products elaborated from the pig�s flesh and blood.

      When I arrived, my friend�s grandmother, parents, brothers, nephews, neighbours, etc were there. They had already chosen the unfortunate pig, which was being pulled by a metallic wire tied to a ring in its muzzle. They put the pig on a sturdy wooden table, while the poor animal was yelling, crying and doing its best to get free, but the animal tried in vain. I was told to hold its left front leg as tight as I could. My friend�s father handled a long and sharp knife and sank it in its neck. Suddenly, the red blood started spouting from the wound in a gurgling stream. This blood would not be wasted, as an old woman was holding a bucket under the table to collect it.

      �Are you feeling O.K.?� �my friend�s father wanted to know- �Your face looks pale�. I couldn�t give a proper answer. The pig was gasping for air. Although most of its blood had already come out, the creature refused to die. Then I realized that I was gasping for air too. �You have never seen an animal being sacrificed, have you?� When I got to catch my breath, I answered with a laconic �No, I haven�t. You are right�.

      Once the pig was dead, everything happened so quickly. Each person knew exactly what to do, except for me. An old woman showed me a great peace of read meat that she was holding with both hands. �Look! This is the liver. It�s still warm. We�ll cut it in little peaces and fry it with olive oil and garlic�. Someone emptied a bottle of red wine into a big metallic mug and we all drank the same wine from the same mug. We all ate the same liver from the same pig. That day, we all belonged to the same tribe.



      ---------------------------------
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      [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
    • Antonio Carmona
      February 17th, 2004 Hello webheaders!!! How are you doing? I have been reading your websites lately, so now I feel part of this great and fascinating family.
      Message 2 of 6 , Feb 16, 2004
        February 17th, 2004



        Hello webheaders!!! How are you doing?



        I have been reading your websites lately, so now I feel part of this great and fascinating family. It�s just amazing and worthy of admiration, what Vance Stevens and his colleagues have been carrying out for such a long time. It�s a shame I didn�t know about webheads years ago. You help me so much to fly away from my everyday problems providing a marvellous opportinity to know the point of view of so many people from different countries.

        Yes, we are so different and so alike at the same time... It would be difficult to decide whether we should appreciate more what makes us different or alike.

        I am so glad Juani liked what I wrote about travelling. Well, Juani, you cannot imagine how much I would enjoy a visit to those places you describe in Chile. Dont you find it so funny to use a foreign language to comunicate with people who speak your own language?



        A few months ago I lived what I would describe as anunusual experience and I would like to share it with all of you:



        SLAUGHTER�S DAY



        It was the first weekend of November, when I was invited to visit a small village in the heart of Sierra Morena. There took place a very ancestral event, which used to be so common decades ago and now has become really extraordinary.

        A friend of mine told me that his parents were living in a small hamlet and that they had a tiny farm there. Knowing how much interested I felt about old costumes, which are getting lost, he thought I would enjoy the slaughter of one of the pigs they owned just as it had been done from time immemorial. I would be able to help them and see how his family made black pudding and many other products elaborated from the pig�s flesh and blood.

        When I arrived, my friend�s grandmother, parents, brothers, nephews, neighbours, etc were there. They had already chosen the unfortunate pig, which was being pulled by a metallic wire tied to a ring in its muzzle. They put the pig on a sturdy wooden table, while the poor animal was yelling, crying and doing its best to get free, but the animal tried in vain. I was told to hold its left front leg as tight as I could. My friend�s father handled a long and sharp knife and sank it in its neck. Suddenly, the red blood started spouting from the wound in a gurgling stream. This blood would not be wasted, as an old woman was holding a bucket under the table to collect it.

        �Are you feeling O.K.?� �my friend�s father wanted to know- �Your face looks pale�. I couldn�t give a proper answer. The pig was gasping for air. Although most of its blood had already come out, the creature refused to die. Then I realized that I was gasping for air too. �You have never seen an animal being sacrificed, have you?� When I got to catch my breath, I answered with a laconic �No, I haven�t. You are right�.

        Once the pig was dead, everything happened so quickly. Each person knew exactly what to do, except for me. An old woman showed me a great peace of read meat that she was holding with both hands. �Look! This is the liver. It�s still warm. We�ll cut it in little peaces and fry it with olive oil and garlic�. Someone emptied a bottle of red wine into a big metallic mug and we all drank the same wine from the same mug. We all ate the same liver from the same pig. That day, we all belonged to the same tribe.




        ---------------------------------
        Do you Yahoo!?
        Yahoo! Finance: Get your refund fast by filing online

        [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
      • Antonio Carmona
        February 17th, 2004 Hello webheaders!!! How are you doing? I have been reading your websites lately, so now I feel part of this great and fascinating family.
        Message 3 of 6 , Feb 16, 2004
          February 17th, 2004



          Hello webheaders!!! How are you doing?



          I have been reading your websites lately, so now I feel part of this great and fascinating family. It�s just amazing and worthy of admiration, what Vance Stevens and his colleagues have been carrying out for such a long time. It�s a shame I didn�t know about webheads years ago. You help me so much to fly away from my everyday problems providing a marvellous opportinity to know the point of view of so many people from different countries.

          Yes, we are so different and so alike at the same time... It would be difficult to decide whether we should appreciate more what makes us different or alike.

          I am so glad Juani liked what I wrote about travelling. Well, Juani, you cannot imagine how much I would enjoy a visit to those places you describe in Chile. Dont you find it so funny to use a foreign language to comunicate with people who speak your own language?



          A few months ago I lived what I would describe as anunusual experience and I would like to share it with all of you:



          SLAUGHTER�S DAY



          It was the first weekend of November, when I was invited to visit a small village in the heart of Sierra Morena. There took place a very ancestral event, which used to be so common decades ago and now has become really extraordinary.

          A friend of mine told me that his parents were living in a small hamlet and that they had a tiny farm there. Knowing how much interested I felt about old costumes, which are getting lost, he thought I would enjoy the slaughter of one of the pigs they owned just as it had been done from time immemorial. I would be able to help them and see how his family made black pudding and many other products elaborated from the pig�s flesh and blood.

          When I arrived, my friend�s grandmother, parents, brothers, nephews, neighbours, etc were there. They had already chosen the unfortunate pig, which was being pulled by a metallic wire tied to a ring in its muzzle. They put the pig on a sturdy wooden table, while the poor animal was yelling, crying and doing its best to get free, but the animal tried in vain. I was told to hold its left front leg as tight as I could. My friend�s father handled a long and sharp knife and sank it in its neck. Suddenly, the red blood started spouting from the wound in a gurgling stream. This blood would not be wasted, as an old woman was holding a bucket under the table to collect it.

          �Are you feeling O.K.?� �my friend�s father wanted to know- �Your face looks pale�. I couldn�t give a proper answer. The pig was gasping for air. Although most of its blood had already come out, the creature refused to die. Then I realized that I was gasping for air too. �You have never seen an animal being sacrificed, have you?� When I got to catch my breath, I answered with a laconic �No, I haven�t. You are right�.

          Once the pig was dead, everything happened so quickly. Each person knew exactly what to do, except for me. An old woman showed me a great peace of read meat that she was holding with both hands. �Look! This is the liver. It�s still warm. We�ll cut it in little peaces and fry it with olive oil and garlic�. Someone emptied a bottle of red wine into a big metallic mug and we all drank the same wine from the same mug. We all ate the same liver from the same pig. That day, we all belonged to the same tribe.





          ---------------------------------
          Do you Yahoo!?
          Yahoo! Finance: Get your refund fast by filing online

          [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
        • Juani B.
          Hi Antonio: This a great and very nice community that Vance coordinates so well.We meet every Sunday at 12 GMT that is 8.45 am for me .We hope to see you in
          Message 4 of 6 , Feb 17, 2004
            Hi Antonio:
            This a great and very nice community that Vance coordinates so well.We meet
            every Sunday at 12 GMT that is 8.45 am for me .We hope to see you in our
            next meetings.

            I was thinking exactly the same when I answered your previous email.
            How funny it was to write in English to a person that spoke my own
            language.The thing is we must share our thoughts with other members of the
            community.

            You and everybody from webheads are very welcome to visit my country and
            enjoy the places I have described.
            Saludos desde Chile Juani

            La Union
            Chile

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          • Susanne Nyrop
            Hello Antonio (and all others) some time ago, you told us a wonderfully authentic story from your experiences on Slaughter s day. I would like to share some
            Message 5 of 6 , Apr 4, 2004
              Hello Antonio (and all others)

              some time ago, you told us a wonderfully authentic story from your
              experiences on Slaughter's day. I would like to share some thoughts and
              memories this story was provoking in me.

              First, as it is a long time since I was actively writing here, let me tell
              you that I was born and live in Denmark, and took up English after many
              years of not using it actively, or only occasionally. Meeting and
              collaborating with Webheads since 2000, has enabled me to write, think and
              speak almost fluently.

              My life has brought many unexpected surprises - like Antonio, I had never
              attended a slaughtering as the only animals I really knew (apart from in Zoo
              and circus) were domesticated cats and dogs. When our second child was a
              baby, we went to live in the countryside and my husband was dying to raise
              some chicken and goats, and even a pig. We started with ten confused
              chicken, brought on a moped in a sack! In the beginning when we opened the
              sack and let them out, , I was horrified with the poultry, I just could not
              take their flappering wings and the nasty smell - but then they calmed
              down, ate some grains and settled for the night on their sitting board, I
              felt pity with them and decided to help them feel at ease with us. I
              started to like feeding them and was extremely proud when they started to
              lay their first eggs. Our daughter was two years old and totally fearless,
              so we brought her with us to feed them, and very soon, she could take up a
              chicken in her arms and caress it! That summer we started getting little
              baby chicken, and one day they grew up, four out of ten were roosters, and
              constantly fighting. This is the nature and a reason why you can only have
              a limited number of male chicken! Well - what I had not realized was that
              once you have got poultry, you're also going to eat them from time to time.
              And I cannot express my horror when we cut off his head, as I was holding
              his body on the wood block and my husband was swinging his axe! The kids
              were interested and unsentimental spectators and loved to get the cut off
              feet and the head to examine, and they could play for many days with
              feathers, stones and sticks to build their own farm. Honestly, we honored a
              very low consumption of resources, used a lot of recycling never spent much
              money on readymade toys, and plastic was almost banned, except for some Lego
              construction bricks!

              Later, I got used to raising animals and the tough consequences, and also
              learned how to deal with the messy work before you had a Sunday roast;
              plucking and the feathers and removing the stinky, slimy guts. After a
              while, I was even ready to slaughter a young troublemaker rooster all on my
              own, as a spontaneous act of revenge because it was constantly attacking the
              hens, and also me when I wanted to enter the chicken enclosure! And on that
              occasion, when I hung up his dead body in a tree to remove the blood, I felt
              empowered with new energy like someone who had reached a new level of
              mastering genuine country life. Although this event is dating back in 1975,
              I can still feel this sense of victory. But I never repeated the success, I
              hated when the friendly goats were slaughtered and avoided to participate,
              and when our very dear pig had to be taken to the slaughter house, I did not
              even assist getting her to enter the van, and when I had to pick her up
              later that day, cut into portions and with her beloved head on top of the
              bloody flesh chunks, I gradually turned into an almost vegetarian for many
              years, having totally lost appetite for meat, at least when I had to prepare
              it on my own.

              But that's another story!

              Sus
            • J Barrientos
              That was a very nice story,Sus.It´s wonderful how Antonio´s story could bring your memories up. I was thinking when our grandparents used to tell us stories
              Message 6 of 6 , Apr 4, 2004
                That was a very nice story,Sus.It´s wonderful how Antonio´s story could
                bring your memories up.
                I was thinking when our grandparents used to tell us stories around the
                fireplace in long winter nights.All the kids around listening.
                Saludos para ti Juani

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