all cows go to heaven and swimming at Auschwitz

I'm sure you've been wondering about Bessie the Cow. I've been too traumatized to blog.

For a whole day, everytime I stepped outside, I took a quick look around to make sure the cow was still there. Then I would exhale with relief. As the day went on and it got later and later, I thought good, they are not going to kill the cow today.

Then, I was in our room, reading and minding my own business, when the Pastor called out to me (why oh why does he do stuff like this). I went to where the Pastor was and glanced out the window just in time to see Bessie get clunked in the head and slashed in the throat.

And that lovely memory will be filed away under the category of "things you just cannot un-see."

For those of you who have not had the opportunity to observe animal slaughter from a few yards away, the whole kill-a-cow process takes mere seconds. I wonder just how many living things you have to kill before you are able to kill without any hesitation whatsoever. And then, as your victim lies bleeding in the grass, go smoke a cigarette as you wait for the final breath. Needless to say, I wasn't comfortable until the butcher had left the premises.

And the poor stray puppy. I watched stray puppy out the window, imagining his stray puppy thoughts. Like:
Oh, I think I'll go see my friend Cow!
Is Cow sleeping?
But I guess stray puppy really wasn't all that bothered by the whole thing as he had no trouble eating Bessie.

I have been a vegetarian for years. I stopped eating red meat 16 years ago, and chicken and pork came later. I'm pretty sure this isn't going to change anytime soon.

The Pastor has opined that when we backpack/train across Europa we don't need to stop and eat! I've not been very receptive towards the thought of just grabbing a baguette to nosh on, but right now I'm pretty sure I don't want anything in my mouth. In fact, my stomach is growling as I type this.

But a Snickers sure would be nice.

now for a much needed change of subject:

Today we went to the local swimming pool, a.k.a. the only form of entertainment. Apparently, it is acceptable to swim here in your skivvies. Seeing a great deal of pre-teen boys swimming in their tidy-white-ies is a bit shocking. I'm sure it would be a pedophile's dream. No wonder Michael Jackson is feeling so comfortable in a foreign country.

The whole experience was what I would imagine it would have looked like had Auschwitz had a swim day.

Just imagine a whole bunch of people who look like Nicole Richie, if she would just lose that last five pounds. I did not swim. How could I? Being morbidly obese and all. Really, I wasn't concerned about my fat-ness in comparison to the other sun gods and godesses, I was more concerned that people who throw trash in the river probably have no qualms about peeing in the pool.

There is one slide at the pool, and the boys think if they pull their undies up into their cracks, exposing their backsides, they will go down the slide faster. At this point I'll mention when I was packing for this trip, I tried to bring some thong panties to donate, but the Pastor wouldn't let me. He said they'd have no use for that kind of underwear here. If we'd only known. I may not have been able to save the world, or Bessie, but I could've made some boys slide faster.