Chicken Testes

I apologize for the delay between postings. Two weeks ago we started our teaching practicum. There has been very little free time with lesson planning on top of homework. At the beginning of the month everyone switched language teachers in an effort to … I don’t actually know. But, there is definitely a disconnect between the language people and the TEFL people. It feels like I am in school again sometimes, when the one teacher doesn’t really give a shit that your workload is already great, because their assignments are far more important than the rest.  To say the least, I have been busy.

I have also not known what I wanted to write about…the re-built ruins we visited, my stress, the fact that I don’t want to leave Akunk yet, how much I appreciate my host family, my anxiety about going to site, the flies, the heat, my friends? Or maybe even the food? Then yesterday, as I was walking my dear friend Debra out after finishing up our final lesson plan, I decided to go and talk to my h.mom Silva about the noxious smell outside and where it might be coming from. I had just seen her out of the corner of my eye, going to the part of the house in which I shower and where she has been preparing the winter preserves. Remember the dungeon I mentioned? Well, this is the same place.

These three rooms are the original house and have their own separate entrance. The immediate room after the entrance is the old kitchen; and then a window through to the shower area, which is just tile, a weak light and a shower head; and the other room off to the side is a mystery to me because I find it terrifying and I’m pretty sure a ninja or a monster awaits me there. The old kitchen has no light except for whatever natural light comes through the door. When you first poke your head in, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust. 

Anyway, I poke my head in and ask Silva how her grocery shopping in Abovian went. As she tells me that her head was spinning, I notice the large knife in her hands with some blood spatters, and the dark wet thing in the pot full of steaming hot water. As I got closer, I realized the dark wet thing is one of the chickens from the yard. I was so stunned and excited! I was going to get to watch her prepare our dinner from the moment it’s neck was broken!

The whole process was fascinating. The boiling water was for pulling the hair out faster and easier. It was as simple as… well I can’t actually think of an appropriate comparison, but she did it with ease.  The feathers on the wings were more difficult and took some muscle. She turns to me with one in her hand and says, ‘Columbus’ pen!’. After removing as much of the hair as possible, she turned on a burner (which is really more like a torch) and passed our dinner through the flame several times, burning away the remaining hair. After the chicken was bare she removed his neck, arms and legs; first by breaking them and then sawing through the remaining muscle with her knife.

She began to clean out the internal organs and other gunk inside the frame of the body; first opening the chest up with her skilled bare hands as I simply stood there with my mouth open - the whole time. At some point, my English speaking sister Angela comes over and tells me she loves eating the eggs. I was so confused! Did she mean eggs, eggs, or the two testes that were now visible inside the carcass? She meant the two testes in the carcass, which was carefully explained to me by mother as she referenced her sometimes naked grandson Vartancheek and motioned her hands in a manner I would understand. I couldn’t think of the words testes or testicles, so I just said “Oh, you mean the balls?!”. Which my two host sisters and mother each repeated in turn ‘balls?’. After a minute or two I remembered testicles and shouted out this word, which they also repeated. My h.mom said ‘testicles’ about five times during the rest of the dinner preparation. It was awesome.

For dinner I ate a testicle and some lung in my chicken potato soup. Narine had forgotten to add salt to the fresh bread, which we all had a laugh over. Grigor came to sit down, throw back two shots of vodka and then leave.  Silva gave him grief about how fast he eats, because he always complains that his belly hurts afterwards.  Armenians use a lot of motioning and moaning to get their point across. I am a huge fan of this communication technique. There is no point in my trying to write them out here, you will just have to wait until you see me and I will give you an impression.

So, one week left to go, three more official days of Pre-Service Training. I honestly can’t believe how fast the time has gone. Do I say that every post? Oh well, it’s the truth. I am simultaneously excited, nervous, tired and energetic. I pass through nearly every possible emotion on a daily basis. As you might imagine this involves the occasional cry, but it’s not the end of the world.  At this point, I just need to push through the next week with the remaining fuel I’ve got left.

I’ll tell you what: I am seriously looking forward to having three weeks of rest before school starts on September 1^st.