Down on the Farm

This past Saturday, I went to the family farm with Risto and Zlatko.  We were going to slaughter a pig.  We left the apartment around 12:30 in the afternoon and arrived at the farm around 1.  By that time, the other men helping out were in the pig pen getting the one pig ready.  In no time, they had placed a rope and tether to one of the pig's legs and were dragging her out from the pig pen into the clearing by the house.  That was the first time I got a good look at the pig.  The thing was huge.  It almost certainly weighed more than I did and on all fours, was prolly around three and a half feet tall and maybe five and a half feet long.  Dragging the pig to the necessary spot was a challenge, as it literally was kicking and screaming the entire time.  And mind you, there is only the one restaint on one of its legs from keeping it from going loose.  That didn't look very secure, so first chance I got, I went up the stairs on the outside of the house.  But, it was secure and these guys are pros at this.  They dragged the pig to the required spot and for whatever reason, the pig laid down.  I don't know why.  One of the men grabbed the nearby ax and I moved into a position where I could not see the head of the pig.  I could hear the ax connect with the pig and afterward, the pig made one of the most horrid screams I have ever heard in my life.  Another ax, another horrid scream.  After the third stroke, the pig was more or less subdued.  I think I will always be able to hear that scream, though.  Man, that was tough to listen to.
From that point, the men were tasked with skinning the pig and carving out the meat.  One of Risto's friends, Slavche, is really a pro at the skinning and cutting.  He was working twice as fast as the rest of the men.  I wonder if he is the designated pig slaughterer, such that whenever somebody needs a pig slaughtered, the first person they think about is Slavche.  "Hey, I need a pig slaughtered for an event next Tuesday.  Better get Slavche", you know that kind of thing.  The process is long and boring and I really didn't want to help, mainly because I'm not really all about skinning a pig on a Saturday afternoon.  But sure enough, as Risto was removing the skin from one of the pig's front legs, he calls out, "Hey, Obama (which is how he likes to refer to me), get over here" [In Macedonian, but this is the translation].  He asked me to hold the leg up while he removed the skin.  The day before, I was holding hands and fooling around with a girl I am kinda seeing.  The next day, I was holding the leg of a pig carcass.  Some days are easier than others.

The kids here really know English.  On the farm, one of the boys came over.  I think he is Zlatko's cousin and he looked to be about 10 years old maybe.  But, he was talking to me in English.  Asking where I was from, what music I listened to, what sports I play.  I truly was impressed.  That night, friends of the family visited the apartment and they brought with them their daughter, who was eight years old.  She was enrolled in English tutoring lessons and her family, as well as my host family, was all excited.  They were telling me to ask her questions in English and so I obliged.  I asked questions like how old she was, what grade she was in, and if she had any brothers or sisters.  That kind of stuff.  And she answered in perfect English.  It was remarkable.  And it goes from there.  A girl who lives in my neighborhood is 18 years old and never has visited or lived in an English speaking country before, but she has been taking English classes for 10 years in school and is perfectly fluent.  Like I said, it truly is impressive. 

Finally, over the weekend, I went to a bar that was doing karaoke.  By that time, I had already had a bunch and was in a pretty good mood.  A lot of the people wanted me to sing a song because a) I'm the new guy and everybody always wants to egg the new guy on and b) I'm American and half the songs available were American pop hits (which everybody listens to over here).  So, I selected Black Eyed Peas, "I Gotta Feeling".  It's a good party song and I felt it would be a good way to introduce the people here to my Jewish heritage.  I looked back before I started and the bar was full.  All the tables were occupied and there were a lot of people standing as well.  I start singing and I am ridiculously bad.  I haven't heard the song in a while, which certainly didn't help.  Plus, I am a bad singer to begin with.  Plus, I was drunk.  I was so bad that at the end of the song, I turned around, and only like 10 people were left in the bar.  I can say now that I am such a bad singer that I cleared out a bar during the span of a 4 minute song.  I won't be doing karaoke again for a while.  To the owners of the bar: I am sorry.  It won't happen again.

Chao for now!