Drinking blood

             Two weeks after my arrival in the village, Jonah and his cousin Patrick decide to slaughter a goat in my honour. Traditionally, women are not allowed to be present during slaughter but because I am European, and not circumcised, I'm told I can stay. First, Patrick selects a healthy goat from the pen and carries it up to the small hill behind the boma. Under the tree, a dozen men and children gather. The rope tightens around the goat's neck. It bleats in desperation as it tries to escape, disorientated. Two men hold the goat now and suffocate it so that no blood is lost. Then Patrick expertly forces his simi sword into the goat's neck, provoking its body to shake. He slits the skin along the throat and pulls it back to form a trough. Then, one by one, the warriors kneel down and sip the precious potion with loud suction noises. When they stand up with blood running on their chins, their eyes seem vacant for a few seconds. The children drink too and show me their blood-stained grins as an encouragement. This is wild! Then, at last, Jonah signs me that it's my turn.

             I kneel down. Under my hand, the goat's body emits its final tremors. Without hesitation, I plunge my face in the goat's throat to take my first gulp of blood. As it's coagulating already, it turns as dense as custard. I take a cautious sip and swallow quickly. Oh, that is so nice! I take a bigger sip, warm, full-bodied, salty, nutritious. I'm aware that there might be a risk in drinking blood but if they can do it, so can I.  After all, I'm here to experience the Maasai ways!

         Once there is no more blood to drink, the men proceed with the skinning, disemboweling, cleaning and cooking of the goat. Someone carefully extracts one kidney out, and after removing the delicate layer of fat around it, cuts it in half and presents it to me. If they eat it raw, so can I. And I chew on the tender meat. It is still warm, and oh my, so smooth and delicious! I love it! The children receive small pieces of raw intestines and fat. A hand pulls the heart out. Somebody empties the pancreas and cleans the skin thoroughly before adding it to the pot where the head, feet, heart, lungs and fat have been put to boil to make supu, soup.

          In another pot, they boil plants and roots that have been carefully selected for their anti-fungal, viral and bacterial properties. The juice turns to a healthy-looking dark red colour and can be drunk on its own.

             In the picture below, Jonah mixes the boiled-meat stock with the roots in a sufuria, pot, using a wooden stick at the end of which two sticks have been secured into a cross.

           I've seen many slaughters since. The women always gather away from where the slaughter takes place. They fry the intestines in a lot of fat, which we lick off the plate with delight. Usually reserved for special guests, teh ultimate delicacy is deep-fried fat. So sweet! I love it!!