WARNING: this post contains images that may be disturbing to some. If you are opposed to the killing of animals, you may want to skip this post. Likewise, if you are one of my friends that uses this blog as an educational took for your children, you may wish to review it alone first so you can better explain what’s going on.

So, many of you read the “matando kalnel” post. In fact, the server stats say it was one of the most popular post I ever made. Weird. Anyways, this is kindof like a sequel.

Today is a national holiday, “Revolution Day.” That means that no one works today and the busses are unreliable. Just like many other days in Guatemala. ‘Round here, though, it also means that we’re gonna eat txitam (pig). Emily and I planned on sleeping in to celebrate, but at about 7am Nas Palas woke me to let me know that they’d soon be killing the pig. I guess my interest in last month’s sheep slaughter amused them. I threw on some clothes and moseyed out to the neighbors house. As I approached, I saw Porky a little ways up the hill munching cluelessly on some corn. Nas Palas was sitting on the porch, sharpening knives for the various assembled relatives that would be participating.

He paused in his sharpening, looking up to ask “Do you want to stick ’em this time?”

I was about to say, “sure,” feeling like maybe it would be a useful cultural experience. But fate intervened, and he followed it up with a “just kidding” and a little chuckle. That was fortunate for me, because I soon discovered that killing a pig Is NOTHING like last month’s benign experience with the ram.

First, they brought out some benches to use as a slaughter table. The Big Pig was way to heavy to hoist into the rafters like the ram. Then they tied ropes onto the pigs legs. Or, rather, tried to. This is where the experience went from “ho-hum” to EXCITING. The pig went nuts, squealing so loud that you could hear it all over the village. Turns out, this is a good thing, a sort of dinner bell for everyone in town (more on that later). The pig probably weighed twice that of the biggest man present (me) and was lurching everywhere, screaming bloody murder as people were trying to tie ropes onto its stamping, trotting legs. Then the dogs got involved, thinking that the pig and humans were fighting. This made things even worse. The pig got bit a few times, became even more furious, and some of the wives started throwing firewood at the dogs when they realized what was going on- the men were too occupied with the pigs to even notice the dogs. I got an awesome video clip of it, and I will add it to the blog later when I have high-speed access in town.

At about this point, the pig came at ME so I stopped recording. Once safely out of reach, I thought, “Hey, this is dumb. Those guys are never going to get a line on that thing.” So, during the havoc, I made a slipknot lasso with one of the several ropes lying around. Then I snuck in and got it on the pigs back left trotter. The pig took off, the knot slipped tight, and I HAD THE FIRST CATCH! GO TEAM GRINGO! (they laughed about that later) At this point, the pig wasn’t going anywhere, and about five guys jumped on it. The picture at the right was taken with me holding the rope in one hand, the camera in the other.

Once the legs were tied together with a million knots, they had to lift the pig onto their makeshift table. This involved a LOT of guys, and the pig was still thrashing around and squealing like crazy, despite having its mouth roped shut during the fracas. It was so worked up, excrement blew out the rear, and bright green mystery fluid (bile? vomit?) was oozing out of both nostrils. One of the guys held its head back, and Nas started rubbing its neck, much like a nurse does to your arm when she wants to raise a vein to draw blood.

In went the knife, and blood HOSED out of its jugular. The pig was still squealing, thrashing, and four or five guys were still sitting on her. One of the wives appeared out of nowhere with a plastic basin, and started collecting all the blood. “Jump up and down on ‘er a bit,” Manuel said to his eldest son, who did so to help pump out more blood. The squealing lessened, and after a few minutes, the blood was down to a trickle and the pig dozed off to eternal sleep. Manuel stuck a corn cob in the hole to keep and more blood from coming out later as they worked.

These people have teamwork down to a science, and were well-prepared. Everyone stepped back, and the wives all showed up with cauldrons of boiling water to pour over the pig. “It loosens the hair,” they explained. I assumed they meant skin, but no, they meant hair. A minute later everyone was scraping and shaving, talking off all the bristles and hair. This process took a LONG time, maybe half an hour. We’d already spent more time on the pig than the sheep, and we hadn’t even started any butchering yet.

Once all the shaving was done, they washed the pig with soap and water. “HUH?” I wondered, “Why go to all that trouble?” Turns out, they eat the skin. More on that later, too. Oh, and notice the hose they’re using to rinse it off- it is just a piece of hose with one end stuck in the stream uphill from the house. Gravity does the rest.

Now it was time to get down to disassembly. This part is a lot like butchering the kalnel (sheep), except bigger. So I will spare you the boring details, and just post a few photos of blood and gore:

At this point, something funny (?) happened. One of the wives said, “Hey, there are only three feet here!” Everyone started looking around for a missing dog, who sure enough, was about 30 yards away chewing on something. There was a lot of shouting, and the kids tore off after the dog. Here’s Orante, returning proudly with the snitched trotter. For the most part the kids just watch everything with mild interest, but when you give them a job, they get pretty excited about it. Next we have Alberto guarding the feet against further thievery, as the dogs ponder how to pull of another heist.

What started out as an animal soon became lots of meaty bits you might recognize in the supermarket meat section: pork shoulder, hamhock, tenderloin. And also some things you won’t often see, like The Head.

As you can see, everyone is having a pretty good time. A festival atmosphere pervaded.

All that was left now were the big parts. I heard the word machit, and I remember that’s local dialect for “machete.” Sure enough, no Guatemalan project is complete unless you use a machete at some point. In this case, it’s just the thing for removing the ribs from the spine. I got a great video clip of that too… i will post it when I can. Then, they had to get the spine apart. After some Herculean over-the-head machete swings, Manuel called for the axe. “Um, porque no usan una serrucha?” I asked (Why don’t you guys use a hacksaw?) They thought this was a sillly idea, but I went and got one from our clubhouse anyway. Manuel gave it a try. “Wow, that works GREAT!” he exclaimed as he cut the spine into several segments for easier handling.

The other job of the kids is to run around town letting everyone know that there is fresh meat available. Between this and the hellacious squealing for the first 15 minutes of the process, a lot of people knew that pig was on the menu. The system is pretty clever. A family killing their txitam couldn’t possibly eat it all on one day, and there are no refrigerators here. So, everyone else in town shows up to buy meat. That way, a whole pigs gets devoured in one sitting (at multiple tables) and it makes it so you can eat pork regularly but only have to kill and slaughter every tenth time or so. Here we have Lena, Nas Palas’s wife, weighing out meat. 13q a pound, or 18q if you want a piece without bone.

One of the “customers” wanted some ribs. Manuel tried the hacksaw, and it was unwieldy for this work, so he finally got to use the axe after all (video clip coming soon). I guess you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him into a professional butcher.

About this point, they mentioned that we were invited to lunch. It seemed appropriate, so I went to the only store in town and bought some beer to share, and everyone was really excited about that. I discussed it with Emily beforehand, and she agreed it would be a good idea, for a few reasons: One is that the men are always asking me to have beer with them, and it’s something they feel is important. We want to integrate with the community. But also, it’s a good opportunuty to show that it’s possible to have a beer, and not go nuts and have 8 (see earlier post about alcoholism). Did I mention that Nas Palas and Manuel both had hangovers at the start of this adventure this morning?

In all, it made for a really pleasant morning- beer, friendly chat, and the first clear, sunny day in WEEKS. Then, once all the spare meat was sold, the whole extended family went to Nas’s house for the barbecue. They’d saved the best part of the pig, the backstrap (it’s filet mignon on a cow), for just this occasion. Everyone got steel skewers and about a half pound of meat, rubbed down with salt. I am not a big pork fan, but I have to tell you, it tasted pretty awesome. Perhaps my reaction was helped by the beer I had, the fact that it was my first meal an about 20 hours, and my relief that we weren’t going to eat something like Blood Soup or Boiled Head. The first two pictures are inside Nas Palas’s house, which I described a long time ago as being pretty medieval- open fire, smoke just drifts through the holes in the roof, etc. The third picture is Nas Palas at the backup fireplace outside, which they have for when the WHOLE family shows up.

After the barbecue, they started making chicharrones, basically fried pigskins. I didn’t mention this before, but one step in the butchering process is taking the blanket of fat off of the pig:

Here we see the blanket being trimmed off: it’s about an inch of fat, with skin on one side. Then, they cut the fat into chunks about the size of a deck of cards, and boil the whole mess down in a big kettle. After a few hours, what you get (besides an awful smell) is a few liters of hot molten lard to use for cooking later, and crinkly fried pigskins that everyone except me goes crazy for. Little kids running around everywhere, faces and fingers shiny from grease, smelling kindof like week-old bacon fat. I had to keep the door to my house locked for the rest of the day, for fear they might come in and touch my stuff.

So, that is my Matando Txitam adventure. I hope you liked it.