Before you read this, I would like to make you aware that this is not subtitle for vegetarians of people who are squeamish as it describes the death of an animal.
As I was sitting outside the wooden house that was my hostel, a large pig with black mud stains and long hooves was being dragged down the uneven path to the river bank. A muscular man wearing an Arsenal shirt and Puma shorts tied its feet together and half carried half dragged this HUGE mamma pig down to the muddy bank of the Napo River.
We all laughed at the different crazy ideas we thought the man was doing with it, but none of us expected what would happen next! Mum, dad and I went to have a look but all we could see was a man trying to wrestle the pig to the floor. We all went back to our bench to play some more cards.
As dad was dealing we heard an unmistakable squeal of a pig, all the kids ran down to the bank, screaming with delight and swiping their fingers across their necks. I was immediately intrigued to see what would happen next and so was dad, mum, and Georgia. We all jogged down there to see what was happening.
As Dylan was already down there with his friends, he got to see the first cut into the vain. We saw the second. It was gross. I felt like I wanted to be sick (not enough to make me vegetarian though)! As the blood started oozing out of the pig’s main artery, it gave its last few squeals and then began to twitch. The planks it was on were now blood-stained from the stray gushes that didn’t make the bucket.
Once it had given its last breath the men working on it went straight down to business and covered the dead hog in boiling water and with a machete they started to skin the poor thing. I, however, was shocked by how they killed an animal without batting an eye over it.
The smell of fresh blood started to make its way to my nose as I stood and watched. I was unable to take my eyes off the gaping wound the knife had inflicted on the new piece of meat. Dylan who is six and very sensitive stood laughing with his friends but you could not mistake the fear in his eyes as he saw what was happening.
After the men had finished skinning it, an old lady took over and ordered the men and boys to carry it to her house for butchering. That was all I could bear to see so I turned around and slowly mooched back to the hostel with the image (of oozing blood) still fresh in my mind.