These Days Are Cow Days

After a long day of meetings Dr. L took me to a nearby field so I could practice driving a motorcycle. The day's goal was learning how to stop fast and how to make quick turns. I learned with cows as my obstacles. Cows dotted the field and boys played soccer around them. I would approach a cow really fast and then stop short, saving its life. It never blinked. Or I would pick one and do circles around it. It wasn’t fazed.

Today for lunch Dr L, Muzi, Ian and I walked to the local butcher. (Below) The butcher is a few feet away from our house, and cows, goats, and chicken hang skinned, swaying in the heat and flies. Dr. L found his cow and slid his hand between the meat finding the filet mignon. He brought a knife with him and cut the filet off. People don’t differentiate cuts of meat here and the good cuts are often left unnoticed. Dr. L prepared our filet with a soy, chile marinade. We were each served a small sliver. Never have I ever tasted meat so delicious and flavorful.

Later I took a break from reading papers to go to the corner store to see if they had a nail clipper. Which they did. Coming back from the store, I was walking over a bridge, and a man holding onto to a cow with rope lost control. The cow started to walk fast toward me! People started screaming and men grabbed onto the rope to stop the cow. And I was saved. Good story, right?

I went up to the roof for the sunset. It is unreal. The sky bursts into flames and making the rooftops pink. I shared a mango with Ian and let the golden flesh cover my face and hands, matching the sunset, eating with my whole heart. I feel sinful with pleasure. There were no cows.

A picture of our filet with a blanc rue and chopped apples. A thank you. From left to right is our typical Bengali fare:

Rice, jarred chutney, chicken, daal, cucumber, fried vegetables.