“We are going to have a festinha (small party) with meat tomorrow after the meeting, do you want to come”
“Sure”
Próximo dia:
I give a presentation in Portuguese in front of all of my colleagues, I think it went ok. But who knows really. Then I went home, to change out of my work clothes.
“You should change that shirt, to be more beautiful” my roommate, who is not going to the festinha, comments. “You should look beautiful so you can get a boyfriend.” Little does she know, I actually purposefully avoid looking beautiful at all times in order to discourage male attention. She thinks I am just a slob, and I am ok with that.
And then the festinha.
“Drink more ganho” (Gaan-yoo) ie the African moonshine which I have come to find out is in season right now. You literally just see people walking around with the stuff still frothily fermenting in five liter vegetable oil bottles, or five liter wine bottles, or even 20 liter buckets. You can buy it on the side of the road… but you can really buy most anything on the side of the road here, so that isn’t strange. My fave roadside snack is homemade yogurt.
“No thanks, I am ok, I have already had like 7 cups, I am full” because it is super sweet and incredibly filling, it’s like a homemade hard cider.
“Oh, you are afraid of getting fat”
“No, no, just full”
“The meat is ready. Caitlin, have you ever had pig head before?”
Oh god, what have I gotten myself into. Moonshine and animal parts.
Despite my best efforts to control myself, a slight wave of vomitish terror crashed across my face. I didn't eat meat very often in America, and aside from Aunt Jackie’s jerky I never eat meat in Mozambique. But then the wave receded, I seized the moment, and commenced gnawing on a big piece of pig head fat and skin, perfectly decorated with few surviving coarse black hairs. What I think was the brain, because it looked like a squiggly mini-intenstineish thing, was quite delectable at first. However, once I was able to break through the unnervingly chewy outer layer, there was this unarming explosion of goopy bitterness in my mouth. Never a good thing. Lesson of the day: one should only suck on and then swallow whole all pig head squiggle brain things.
The final porky morsel on my plate looked more meaty, so I held it up, took one good look at it, and bit in.
“Oh Caitlin got the tongue. That is lucky.”
Lucky? Well, I suppose it was better then bitter brain and hairy fat.
Oh but little did I realize that the head was just the appetizer. The rest of the animal was to follow.
“I am not sure I can eat anymore”
“You have to, the meat is still to come”
“I am full”
“You are afraid of getting fat”
“No, just full”
And then – seeing as I am the only female in this situation, once again surrounded by my young, male colleagues and lots of food - we of course begin talking about how I should grow big and strong.
“It is good to get fat” Saia comments
“You know, you would be very pretty if you got fat” My school director adds in English.
Great. I would be very pretty if I sucked some more pig head fat and porked up a little. Thanks Senhor Director. But to appease their urgings, I ate a little meat. It was actually quite tasty – and there were fewer hairs involved.
Luckily I didn't get the tail, but the person sitting next to me did. And I just watched in awe as he sucked away at that delectable little curly cue.
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