In the high village of Amlakit, we came upon a family who were slaughtering a cow out in the open and preparing it for the breaking of the fast. It was the month of Ramadan. The two ladies wielding their knives were in good spirits, in contrast to the bloody cow’s head they were skinning. The bags in the corner were filled with the cow’s innards and whatnots. There was a pot bubbling in the background. Neighbours came to watch and give their two cents worth of advice.
Contrary to what you would think, it didn’t smell and there weren’t flies. It’s a revelation for someone like me, who lives in the city and buys meat in neatly wrapped polystyrene containers from the supermarket.
~ Spotted Cow