Are you Chicken?

I’ve always thought I was too chicken to do it.  It’s not something I’ve laid in bed at night contemplating or had long debates in my mind about whether or not I could do.  It is something I just knew was out of my realm of possibility, but as fate would have it, it was not.  I walked into the house after milking, having no idea my life was about to be intermingled with a higher power.  I found Mara, Yvonne and Dominik partaking in something I would never in a million years have considered myself fit for.  They were plucking a chicken.  I breezed past them into the new kitchen and took a couple deep breaths, reminding myself that I came to Ireland for new experiences, and wasn’t this exactly the sort of thing I wouldn’t have the opportunity to do at home?  The other part of my brain told me such an opportunity never presented itself because who in their right mind wants to pluck a chicken?  After mustering up the courage, I walked back to the table and asked if I could join.  I took a seat next to Mara and watched for 30 seconds before I began plucking feathers off of the cockerel’s wing.  There were a few freak out moments, like when Dominik moved the cockerel’s head and pretended it was still alive, but before long, I was fearlessly making the chicken dance myself.  After the plucking came the difficult part – the gutting.  Since no one had planned per say on killing the cockerel, they hadn’t starved him for 24 hours, as is custom so that there isn’t any goo to deal with. As luck would have it, there was plenty of goo and stink to add to the festivities (Like I was already so in love with cutting open a dead cockerel).  However, Dominik did the cutting, and the rest of us stood by to bear witness.  At certain points I was sure I was going to die, but I’m still alive and well, so the fervent praying to get me thru the chicken gutting must have worked.  Other interesting/great things have happened in the last couple of days as well.  The first is that I met my new roommate from Sweden today.  Her name is Rosa, and she is a 19-year-old art student studying to get her degree in art therapy.  Just like I imagined she would, she has blonde hair and fair skin and talks with the sweetest Dutch accent.  After dinner and game night, during which we played a new game called Jungle Speed, Rosa told me that I belong to the family.  I thought that was the nicest compliment.  As far as the food department goes, I absolutely love the Muesli they eat for breakfast.  I think I’m going to switch to healthy cereal when I get home…maybe.  I also tried scrambled duck egg, which tasted the same as chicken egg, but I don’t think it helped that I added blueberry jam to it.  And I also tried an egg in the style the Irish eat it – sunny side up, without the yolk being flipped over and cooked at all, with plenty of spices added.  For dinner we ate the cockerel I helped pluck and gut in a chicken noodle soup.  I found it very difficult not to picture his dead eyes not staring back at me.  For dessert we had vanilla ice-cream with fresh blueberry sauce on top.  It was absolutely delicious.  A really funny moment was when Yvonne, Dominik and I were milking Vickie and Dominik put Uische (pronounce Ish-ka) in his coat.  He frequently keeps her in there and lets her sleep while we milk, which I find hilarious.  Afterwards, I was commenting on how funny it looks to see a dog peeking out of his coat, and I couldn’t stop laughing because Uische literally looked like massive chest hair.  Yvonne and I were laughing so hard we were crying.  In other news, I decided it’s a bad idea to wash all my clothes at one time because that means I have to wear a skirt and nice shirt around the farm.  I learned that I like to tie knots, and I am more patient than I realized.  I was patient enough to, with Dominik’s help, create a Christmas ornament.  I decided I’m terribly tired of rain.  And finally, I decided that having the most beautiful views, rain or shine, makes me happy.