So I was painting my uñas when I heard a pig squealing. I thought the guys were taking it on a walk (they do that here). Then all of the kids were running over there so I decided that something more exciting must be happening.
After my uñas were a touch dry I walked over to see what the fuss was about. I came upon this site:
They were watching the guys slaughter a pig. I didn't know this at the time but it atarted with cutting all of the hair off of the animal. Apparently all you have to do is pour hot water over the area and run a machete over it and and the hair basically falls off.
After that process which took about 30 minutes the guys cut the pig open. I'll put a picture of that here.
It started by cutting the tail and doing something that was either cutting out the vagina or the butthole or a combination of both. I think this has something to so with pulling out the entire digestive track, because when I got to thinking about it there would need to be an end that was cut otherwise it would be like turning the pig inside out, which you can't really do...
Any way, the heart came after this and there was a lot of blood and I have a picture, but I don't really want to post it. Ask for it when I'm home.
I pretty much left after that and met the Mr. Branstetter of the DR. A Dominican down the street who studied and lived in the United States. He looks and speaks a lot like my favorite religion teacher at SCC. Really, one of my favorite professors ever. The classes were great.
Back to the pig.
That night my host family served me pig organs for dinner. I didn't really like them. At first it was okay, then it was weird, back to okay, and ending with I don't want to eat this. I didn't finish.
The next morning I woke up and the pig was in a big vault on wheels with the heat on top. I thought about taking a picture, but my camera was in my room and I was in line for a juicy piece of pork face... So...
Anyway, we ate pork all day. Sometimes out of the pan of meat and sometimes off the carcass.
I didn't mention, the pig was for the little quince party we were having for the granddaughter of my doña.