Slaughtering

There are many times I’ve come home to see my host father butchering some type of animal. We had cow at my sister’s wedding, pig at my brother’s graduation and the occasional villager will purchase a sheep, which always comes dead.

“I can slaughter a sheep. I can slaughter a horse. I can slaughter a cow. I can even slaughter a man,” my host father gleam proudly. I tell him he shouldn’t boast the last one too much.

I really am impressed what he can do with a dull knife. My host father is the one in green on the right.

I really am impressed what he can do with a dull knife. My host father is the one in green on the right.

I think this is a sheep.

I think this is a sheep.

Advertisements

Discsuss, please

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s