Goat Roast
*Disclaimer: This post is a rather graphic and detailed description of a traditional goat roast where the animals were actually slaughtered on camp. If not too squeamish I highly recommended reading about my experience with this*
This past Tuesday our camp hosted a goat roast as a Tanzanian warm welcome to us. What I did not realize until it was explained to us, is that this means that the animal is actually slaughtered on camp. In especially rural communities, this is a popular tradition typically saved for special occasions, as fresh meat is hard to afford and come by. For Tanzanians, this is a celebrated event and just something that is built into the culture, where everyone is used to it. However, most of us have never witnessed the actual slaughtering of an animal for food. We were all asked, if able to handle it, to watch the slaughtering out of respect to the tradition and the staff putting on the event.
When I was first told that not only was this taking place on camp, but I was being asked to watch, I was horrified. As an animal lover my whole life, I did not think I could do it. My initial thought was that none of us asked for this, so why do we have to do it in the first place? However, I realize the importance of pushing oneself out of their cultural bubbles and trying to respect the valued traditions of others. Also, I personally felt that I had no right to eat meat regularly, but refuse to see how it gets to my plate. I felt that if I could not handle watching the actually slaughtering, then I should no longer be eating meat. I definitely had to challenge myself to be present for this experience.
Tuesday afternoon most of us reluctantly gathered around to where our two goats were tied to a couple of trees. Being held down against the ground by multiple people, the goats were killed by a knife slicing through the throat. It was not one quick movement of the knife that killed the goats, as I hoped it would be. Instead it was a horrific scene of the knife cutting back and forth with blood spewing out of the animal. The goats did bleed out very quickly and were dead within seconds, but their muscles would sometimes spasm even after they were dead. Their screams of being held down were the worst part of the whole experience. They also killed the goats one at a time, where I couldn’t help but feel that the second goat knew exactly what was about to happen to it. This entire experience was the hardest thing I have ever had to witness with my own eyes. I guess this makes me a lucky person in a way, but still a traumatizing and emotional experience all the less. Watching this did make me cry immediately.
After the slaughtering, our professor had a planned lecture for us. First, we heard from the meat inspector, which most rural communities have and are present at these types of traditions. I was happy to know that they do at least check the animal for any signs of not being able to use the meat before they kill it. The next thing we did was learn how they skin and dismember the animal, while my wildlife ecology professor turned it into an anatomy lesson. At this point it initially felt just plain horrific and wrong. I will admit that by the end of the lecture, my curiosity for science desensitized me a little bit to the whole experience.
We saw every organ of the animal, seeing each part of the four-chambered stomach, to the contents of the stomach, to the total length of the small and large intestines. This whole process was bloody and horrifically gory. We also found a parasitic worm in the goat (which still makes it safe to eat). Apparently, the stomach lining of goat, as well as the large intestines (with the dung still inside) is considered a delicacy, which was probably the grossest thing I have ever heard. I was very happy once this whole afternoon was over.
Once dinner came around I found myself conflicted. I was not sure if I should eat the meat or not. Part of me felt that I should eat it because the only reason it was killed in the first place was for us to eat. It almost felt like a waste to not eat the animal, even though some students and all staff still ate it. I felt like by not partaking, that I was in a way wasting away the one reason the goats had to die. Plus, I regularly eat meat, why should it be different today? However, the other half of me said that I thoroughly did not support the slaughtering of an animal and by me eating it, I was saying to myself that it was okay, which I felt it most certainly was not. It’s funny that when you are told to actually witness the slaughtering of an animal for your food, you’re whole perspective on eating meat changes. I ultimately decided not to eat the meat. I just could not bring myself to do it. I do not think that this experience is going to turn me into a vegetarian; however, I have a new perspective on where my food comes from. I will no longer mindlessly eat meat without thinking of the animal that it came from or without remembering this experience. I do have a feeling that meat will be much less present in my diet, at least for a while.
Overall, as strange as it may sound, I am grateful for this experience. I was emotionally and culturally challenged out of my comfort zones. I also gained a really important perspective that I do not think I would have ever gained if I did not come here, and I am grateful for that knowledge and new appreciation of where my meat comes from. I hope this post was not too graphic for anyone, but I am really appreciative of anyone who has decided to read this in full. I feel like this experience affected me the most as a person so far since I’ve been living in East Africa.
