Chickens

When Dale and I were first dating, I was working at a Christian bookstore in northern Wisconsin. One memorable afternoon, Dale stopped by for a short visit. He smelled awful and was covered with blood and chicken feathers. Dale had spent the early part of the day butchering chickens with a family from our church. I think this activity was required in order to really be official as a youth pastor in northern Wisconsin. He describes the process like this: first you place the chicken's head between two nails, one person holds its body still and keeps the wings in place, another person then chops the head off with an axe, and finally, you hold it up by its legs while the wings flap and all the blood drains out through the neck. It is easy to understand how a person could end up smelling and looking like a chicken by the end of the day.

Well, two weeks ago, we had the opportunity to experience a nice, clean butchering of chickens. (We eat a lot of ground beef because trying to eat beef any other way requires too much chewing for the boys. We have fish about once a week, when it is available. Chicken is sort of a delicacy that is savored and enjoyed when we are willing to fork out the cash for it and endure the process of getting it.) Martha picked up two chickens on her way to our home a few weeks ago. They came to our house in a sack. She put them out in the "back kitchen" for the morning. We were waiting for our neighbor's cook to have a free moment to come and kill the chickens because Martha has a bit too much sympathy for them and, when possible, prefers to avoid the actual killing part. The first photo is of the chickens enjoying their last meal. The second photo is the butchering. It was an amazingly neat and clean process. Ancilla pinned the chicken down with both her feet and simply made a small slit for the blood to drain from his little body. It wasn't gruesome, and there was no mess. Why don't they do it this way in Wisconsin?

Josiah had really wanted to do the butchering himself. Maybe next time. The boys did get to watch and also learn how to clean it. Martha was very helpful in showing them how to remove the feathers and the outer skin. We also learned that the heart, gizzards, etc. are very important for the Cameroonians. I was glad to be able to share these. I am not sure if this was unique to the Wimbum people or is common throughout Cameroon, but chickens are oftened prepared by the groom's family and delivered to the bride's family to notify them that the marriage has taken place. Without the portions I so quickly gave away, the gift would be no good.