“The Nepalese girls are leaving tonight,” the head mom says, “so I am going to make a chicken.” And she sends a young man off. Twenty minutes later he arrives with a white chicken hanging upside down, his fingers holding the yellow feet securely. I watch as he walks through the compound, unable to follow, grossly curious about what will happen next. I cannot decide if I want to know.
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AuthorAdventures of a wandering woman. Archives
September 2015
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