Give Thanks

The turkey killing Thanksgiving post is long overdue, but after eating up, cleaning up, and subsequently throwing up, I had a week of training and Spanish classes in Santa Lucia, which left little time for writing. So about two weeks after the fact here is a little recap of the day’s events to go along with the already posted (some say graphic) pictorial narrative…

The Thanksgiving feast was a true team effort of sixteen volunteers, my extremely helpful host mom, and one very patient taxi driver (Tonto decided to relieve himself one last time in the trunk of his car) that made the meal come together perfectly, albeit not until eight o’clock that evening. Above and beyond “just” cooking, everyone helped in some way—from making trips to the Tactic market to going on runs to Paiz in Cobán, from manning the oven at my house to washing dishes and cleaning—and the results were amazing. We had two turkeys (I must admit the “contingency plan” Butterball tasted a little better than Tonto), mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, potatoes wedges, macaroni and cheese, garlic bread, grilled vegetables, mint carrots, two kinds of stuffing, gravy, fruit salad, deviled eggs, green bean casserole, broccoli casserole, pumpkin pie, pecan pie, carrot cake and caramel/chocolate bars. This impressive spread was the work of everyone present, but nowhere was the teamwork more needed than in the killing and preparation of Tonto.

Although we had received numerous tips and instruction from Guatemalans, admittedly none of us were completely sure as to what we were doing, but we managed to get the job done. The squeamishness and screams at the sight of spewing blood from the first hack at Tonto’s outstretched neck (I didn’t get the head off with the first blow and had to finish with sawing) and of his headless body convulsing on the ground for the subsequent five to ten minutes eventually gave way. We then set about removing the feathers using a pot of boiling water to loosen them up, breaking and cutting off the legs, and digging out all the internal organs taking care not to rupture the “poo” bag. Next, he was spiced, stuffed, and thrown in the oven. It was quite the lengthy process, but perhaps we would have eaten before eight had we not taken so many breaks to pose for photos with the head, legs, and other dismembered parts and organs—a little morbid, maybe, but how often do you kill a turkey?

Previous to this Thanksgiving, I had only killed one living thing—a squirrel. And even though they are just glorified rats, I still felt horrible after doing it (although, I must say I was proud to have hit a swiftly moving target). So along with my family, other volunteers, and people here in Tactic, I had serious doubts as to whether I could actually kill Tonto, especially after we had become so close. But perhaps because it was not just gratuitous killing (as in the case of the squirrel), when it came time to put the machete to his neck, I felt no remorse. I felt gratitude. I put one of his feathers in my headband, smeared his blood across my forehead (it seemed appropriate at the time), and gave thanks for his sacrifice to our Thanksgiving celebration. And a great celebration it was.

On behalf of all the volunteers at Thanksgiving, I want to extend a huge “thank you” to my amazing mom (my real one). Not only did she pay to put all of us up for two nights in a gorgeous cabin in the woods, but she sent boxes and boxes of ingredients, snacks, and Thanksgiving themed bowls, plates, and napkins that can’t be found here in Guatemala. Thank you so much, mom. I love you.