Goat giddiness

After theory class one Saturday I am invited by an American Jesuit priest to join him and a group of American visitors to Msalato, a place where goats are auctioned, slaughtered, cooked and eaten. The visitors are making a short documentary on missionary life in the 21st century and he thinks this will give them some authentic film shots. I am amazed how clean it is. The knives are basic and the stalls are made of wood but there are no flies or bad smells hanging around. They have stalls for guts, stalls for skin, stalls for whole carcasses. It’s an authentic meat market. Knife vendors roam about and families pick the piece they want barbecued. A man with rats in a cage shows us them proudly and a big woman welcomes us to a table. The Americans are friendly but still fresh off the plane and I feel like a native Swahili speaker next to them. It’s almost as amusing to watch their reactions to beggars and eating without cutlery as it is to look around the market. Then after the feast of goat with lemon and salt, we are given the much needed toothpick. I feel a bit guilty for laughing at their expense and offer them some hand gel to make them feel at home.