Disclaimer: graphic dead pig pictures ahead.
“Nick, they’re killing the pig now, come quick!” Never a dull moment here – weeks ago I’d told my counterpart Emilia that I wanted to help out killing the family’s pig for the upcoming Nor Tari (New Year) celebrations, and I got the call out of nowhere at 2 o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon. I’d wanted to help with slaughtering as well, but by the time I arrived the pig was just about dead.
The first step of the butchering was to remove the pig’s hair and upper layer of skin, first by lightly blowtorching all surfaces, then scraping them down with a knife. This accomplished, we charred the pig’s body a deep black and let it sit for fifteen or twenty minutes. At this point, we covered the carcass with a cloth and dumped water over everything, then scratched off the rest of the pig’s skin with the knives. Then things really got going, as Artur, Emilia’s brother-in-law, disemboweled the pig and separated everything out while we held the body upright on the table. We then carried the pieces back into their house and separated them out further, part held aside for later, part put immediately over coals to khorovel (grill).
The khorovats was absolutely delicious, but the experience was not surprisingly extremely visceral (literally, viscera everywhere). Following this dinner we went over to Emilia’s folks’ house to celebrate her brother’s birthday, where we were naturally greeted by more pork khorovats. Again, all meat consumed was very tasty, but I think at this point I need a little break to get the pork out of my system, physically and emotionally.
Other random thoughts below…
Throughout the process the other animals were naturally quite interested as well – the family’s ducks, geese, and chicken quickly came over and started pecking through the gore for I don’t know what exactly. The nearby dogs got the unwanted viscera free of charge, but Vazgen, Emilia’s family’s cat, showed no interest in the proceedings after Alik carried him over for a look.
Once or twice I thought, “well, if I injure myself grievously in Armenia it’ll be while working side-by-side with two 13-year old boys wielding blowtorches and knives whose language I know alright at best”, but Hayk and Narik (neighbor or more-distant relative, not sure which, likely both) definitely knew what they were doing and we all worked well together.
Finally, I had interesting conversations with Emilia and her family before and during the butchering process; I worried that people thought I was morbid or extra odd given that I specifically requested to help with the pig take-apart, but I explained as best I could how separate animal and meat are in (especially urban) America and how I wanted to better understand and feel the connection, and I think I got my point across.