Today, I’m going to start writing about one theme of Albania strikes me, as I view my thoughts through the camera. I figure most of you are just trolling for the pictures anyway, so I might as well categorize them. This is a departure from my previous mostly chronological posts.This is a short blog because I really wanted the pictures to speak. I wanted to deal with a phenomenon new to me: hanging meat. In Albania, after an animal is killed, the meat is hung out on the side of the road to dry. While I did grow up in a neighborhood of Manhattan called the meatmarket and clearly remember walking by huge butchers on a daily bases, I’ve never been this close to the entire process. 
My morning starts with a walk to town. Just before I get to the main street, there is a market where I usually buy a water. Almost every morning there is a animal hanging from the hook outside the market drying. While this was new to me, the village children have grown up viewing it on a daily basis and do not flinch.
My morning starts with a walk to town. Just before I get to the main street, there is a market where I usually buy a water. Almost every morning there is a animal hanging from the hook outside the market drying. While this was new to me, the village children have grown up viewing it on a daily basis and do not flinch. Next to the mini market, directly across from the Kummuna (municipal building) there is another Kasap (butcher). While I have not seen meet hanging outside this Kasap on a daily basis, when I do see meat there, it is the body of a large animal, usually bigger than the one hanging from the minimart. I’m not sure what animal is in this picture.
I then turn left onto the main street, which travels through Shales and passes by the school. About half way to school, I pass another butcher. This butcher is always open. There is a sign outside that says meat- Mish. The first few times I passed it, I saw the bodies of very large animals hanging from hooks inside the store. The last few times I have gone to school, however, I have not seen bodies on hooks. 
Instead, I have seen cows tied up outside the butcher. I’m not sure if they were aware of their fate, but I was. It is this clarity of process that I have never seen. No matter how many butchers I saw lined up in Manhattan, hands and clothes stained with blood, I never saw a cow tied up.
Instead, I have seen cows tied up outside the butcher. I’m not sure if they were aware of their fate, but I was. It is this clarity of process that I have never seen. No matter how many butchers I saw lined up in Manhattan, hands and clothes stained with blood, I never saw a cow tied up. 
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