Today I Saw a Goat Get Butchered on a Bloody Altar

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  Kathmandu, Nepal
Sunday, May 6, 2007

I really tried to think of a catchier title than this.  Maybe a pun, or something that rhymed. But I just couldn't.  I mean what more is there to say? And it wasn't yesterday, it was last week. But I really don't think that's the point here, do you?  All I know is, that's certainly something that you don't see everyday.

I did have some warning about the impending spectacle.  On tuesday night Grandpa, Nimu and Aunu came into our courtyard, leading a little goat on a rope.  They tied the rope around the stairs that lead up to my room.  Aunu said to me "You know that tomorrow is Buddha's birthday and also my 10th brithday right?" And I said yes. "And you are coming with us to the temple tomorrow to do puja (worshipping) right?" And I was like yeah.... "Well" she said, "tomorrow this goat is going to lose it's head." I must have visibly squirmed, the two girls shreiked with laughter.  Aunu said "I will MAKE you watch."  I shrugged, how bad could it be?  As I went up to bed that night and passed by the goat, my first instinct was to pat it on the head.  I hesitated.  I figured there was no point in befriending the little beast.  Not now, on it's last night on earth.....
The next morning we woke up early and then sat around waiting for three hours.  Nepali's tend to do this.  It seems no matter what country you visit there is some version of this.  Mexico time, Fiji time, Thailand time, whatever.  So there is a Nepali time too...it's like all the rest and bears no resemblence to the actual time.  Finally a pick up truck pulled up out front.  I use the term truck pretty loosely here.  The whole thing couldn't have been much bigger than my Honda Prelude.  All toghether we had five men, four ladies in bright red saris, five children between the ages of fourteen and three, one white girl and one goat.  What followed was some strange circus act whereby we all got in, then we all got out, a rug was brought, the children sat on the floor, still not enough room, we all got out again, rearranged, children on laps, a few unfortunates standing in the "aisle", one goat laying down on one white girl's feet.  It was actually pretty comical.  But after about thirty minutes, we were off.....
It was a really hot morning and squishy in the truck.  But once we got off the main road and headed towards the mountain, the breeze picked up and the temperature cooled significantly.  It was actually a really pleasant ride, through a little town and a large forest.  I haven't had the chance to see much nature here so I always enjoy the bits I do get to take in.  On the mountainside we saw a large gold Buddha statue.  (Incidentally, the girls informed me that here it is not pronounced booda but bud-DAH!, after much practice I think I may have got it right).
We pulled into the temple, piled out of the truck and entered the main square.  There were two large sacred pools, one full of water, the other full of twelve spouts that released water onto a stone platform.  Before you go into the temple you wash your hands and feet, and then you are supposed to drink from every tap.  Even though I was assured the water was okay to drink, I still sipped pretty gingergly. Actually I mostly faked that part.  Then we got in a long line up to acutally get into the temple.  All the women were holding baskets full of fruit and rice and tikka and other puja paraphenalia.  And pretty much everyone had a goat-on-a-rope.
As we got closer to the entrance, I started to see the pools of blood and some headless carcasses.  And here is possibly the worst part of it all.  Nepali's, like many other Asian cultures, view the feet as the most disgusting part of the body.  This is why you must always remove your shoes when entering a home or temple.  Now I don't know about the feet being disgusting, but who am I to argue right?  But seriously, the floor of this temple was the most disgusting thing I have ever seen in my life.  It was covered with mud and blood and guts.  People were exiting with crud splashed up to their knees.  As we approached the doorway I saw the pile of shoes.  Someone's shoes had blood all over them.  But everyone's shoes go in the pile, no exceptions, especially not for the only foreigner there who was desperatly trying to appear inconspicuous amid the stares.  Now may I just say that I think I am pretty tough. I'm not high maintenance and am very open-minded.  Would I be here if I wasn't?  But when it came my turn to take off my shoes, I seriously balked.  I swear to God it was one of the most difficult things that I have ever done.  As I slipped them off, black goo oozed through my toes.  As I entered the temple, I had to step over a bloody puddle.  The roti I had for breakfast rose up in my throat....
As I stepped (on tip toe, not that it made any difference) inside, I beheld a large bloody altar in front of me.  Two small boys (shall I call them altar boys?) used their hands to sweep bloody puddles into a hole.  Now, I don't know if any of you have seen any large amounts of animal blood but it's bright red.  Almost like paint.  Except you know it's not paint.  The men waited with their goats on the side while the women walked onto the altar, leaving food and putting their foreheads against it.  There was one goat ahead of ours. And he was big.
My familly made me stand in the perfect viewing spot so that I could get a good picture.  It's morbid I know but I did want to record this once in a lifetime experience. And everyone kept encouraging me to do so.  The girls gathered around me while the priest splashed water on the beast and chanted, it was really ritualistic and pagan seeming.  The goats seemed pretty calm, that is untill the priest grabbed it and started dragging it up to the altar.  Then it started bleating like mad and going to the bathroom everywhere.  I guess you would too if you were about to get your throat slit....
I didn't know what to expect but I had kind of invisioned a big machete and one swift chop.  Not so.  It was actually more of a small knife and a sawing motion.  Blood spurted like a fountain and the damn thing struggled and made strangled cries the entire time.  And it took awhile.  I had time to take a picture, turn away in disgust, take another picture and turn away in disgust again.  Finally, Nimu looked up at me and said "let's wait outside." I hadn't even seen our goat meet it's maker but believe me one was enough.
While we were outside Nimu started taunting me.  "You were scared!"   "No, I wasn't" I stammered and tried to explain the difference between scared and squeamish.  "I think this is horrible" she said.  "You must remember" I said, "I have never seen anything like this before." She looked at me with wide eyes.  "You don't kill animals in Canada?"  "While we do" I searched for a response, "but not where other people can see it."  "Where do you do it" she asked, "in the kitchen?"  It was right then and there that I realized that most Nepali's had never seen pre-packaged meat in there lives.  I also realized how little I actually think about where the food I eat comes from....
After that we washed our feet again, thank god, and waited for the men to finish disposing of our goat.  Its started to rain and we hid under the dirty ruins of another temple.  I looked around at the decrepit temple, garbage strewn everywhere, bloody streaks from where the dead animals were dragged and random carcasses laying about.  It probably sounds like such an ignorant white person thing to say, I probably should be talking about the beauty of cultural difference or some god damn thing, but all I felt like was getting the hell out of there and downing a stiff drink.
As we headed back to the the truck, Uncle said to me "Isn't it beautiful here?"  All I could manage was a weak smile as I stepped over some garbage floating in a bloody puddle.  Our goat came home with us in a little white sack that dripped blood all over the floor of the truck.
That night we celebrated Aunu's birthday with a cake and candles.  Something a former volunteer had showed them and now they do for every birthday.  And my principal said "Because we did puja today, we drink" and handed me a beer.  And we ate goat.  Pretty tasty too, as long as I don't have to think too much about how it ended up on my plate..... 
I did ask him about the whole sacrifice ritual though. In my limited knowledge of Buddhism, I was pretty sure that he was totally against killing anything and that buddhists are forbidden to take the life of any living creature.  My principal smiled.  "Ahh but we are Hindus and we celebrate this way."  Buddha is actually considered an incarnation of the Hindu God Vishnu who developped his own following.  In Nepal Buddhism and Hinduism go hand in hand, you don't really have to be one or the other.  So would Buddha really be happy about all the goat slaughtering on his birthday?  I doubt it.  We would probably all be better be people if we adopted the buddhists ways.  As for me, does this experience make me want to become a vegetarian?  It did for like five seconds, but meat is so tasty! Besides when I'm here I kind of have to eat whatever they give me. (I know, excuses, excuses) But I won't soon forget the experience though, if ever.  I think everytime I eat meat it will cross my mind.  It's true about ignorance being bliss, but knowledge is power too.....

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