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Last Friday we went to the annual goat slaughter in Huajuapan.  550 goats slaughtered on a Spanish hacienda in the Mixteca.  I have been writing the experience out of my system for the past three days, and I’m looking to publish the essay in a literary magazine.  

But first, I’m reading it here, because it’s not quite finished and I want to give it a test drive with you all, because I want to avoid publishing it in written form prematurely, and because I want to try out a new media form on PosaTigres – the podcast.

Reading the text aloud creates a different relationship with it both for me, the writer and reader, and you, the listener.  It also makes it, as Jorge said, a lot stronger, which in this case could be a good or a bad thing since the subject is intense.  If you’re ready to hear the story of a goat slaughter in the Mixteca, then by all means, give this a click.  If you’re not sure you can stomach blood and guts and slimy bellies, than you might want to give it some pause.

This is probably the single strongest thing we’ve published on PosaTigres, and it was one of the most powerful experiences either of us has ever had, traveling or otherwise.  Writing it was plunging into a trance, going into the zone and coming out dazed, tired, limp.  I’m still not finished with it – I’m going in spells, writing until I need to step away from the computer and get a big gulp of air and light and rest.  It’s deeply, deeply satisfying.

“Enjoy” might not be the right word, but we hope you can delve into this, readers, listeners, viewers, and live vicariously through it.  It is, in my opinion, a venture into a lost world.