Delivery Service
I’m just now moving to more independent digs, so this seems like a good point to stop and recall the good times in my first apartment in Tacuatí. I had great neighbors in my little house. Here’s one of my favorites:
She was a gift to the family, and brings the household chicken population up to about half a dozen official members and assorted visiting scavengers. She’s a pretty homely specimen with rusty brown feathers and a bare red neck. She doesn’t have a name. And if I understood my contact correctly, she’s due for the dinner table pretty soon. All the same, I’ve gotten attached to her. The family started its flock about the same time I arrived here, and she was the first hen. She’s an undemanding creature, quiet by chicken standards, and uninterested in pecking order politics. She doesn’t roost with the others and is unusually comfortable around humans.
During our first few weeks in Tacuatí, she decided she liked my kitchen. Most of the time, it’s dark and still and cool in there. In particular, I had a disconnected and disused sink full of fabric scraps. My favorite hen was the first to start laying her eggs there, and I’m still naïve enough regarding chickens to find that delightful. Eggs! Fresh from the source! Delivered to within arm’s reach of my frying pan! How cool is that?
The Guaraní word of the day is ryguasu, meaning chicken generally or hen more specifically. The chicks, then, are ryguasu ra’y. The roosters are ryguasume.
October 28th, 2007 at 5:00 pm
So glad to finally meet this chicken. I have spent considerable time thinking of her and her caretakers. I hope that now that you are gone, she has someone to put her in the roosting tree at night.
October 28th, 2007 at 5:02 pm
So glad to finally meet this chicken. I have spent considerable time thinking of her and her caretakers. I hope that now that you are gone, she has someone to put her in the roosting tree at night. She seems to be eyeing that frying pan quite suspiciously.
October 29th, 2007 at 8:36 am
She’s recently taken to roosting in a wheelbarrow. The yard is well fenced and predator free, and her spot has an old milk crate for cover. I think she’ll be OK without me.