If I eat another bite, I don't think I could bear it...

I have a new roommate. He is a national, "like-minded" fellow whom I affectionately refer to in my blog and email updates as "V-ball" since he and I both love to play Volleyball. I'm learning a lot about this culture as I get to live, work, and enjoy recreation with my new friend and brother.

So one morning, I awake around 6:30am to him knocking on my door to tell me some important news. One of his friends in another village about 45 minutes away had shot a bear and wanted to give him and his friends the meat. So he comes in and sits on my bed to tell me about all of this and that I needed to go with him to help cut this bear up and bring it back to our village. 

I listened...thought...listened some more and then told him I would have to pass on this opportunity. It's getting real cold here and I figured this would be a whole-day ordeal that I was not interested in getting stuck in. So I told him to have fun and take some pictures.

After V-ball returns, he brings home 2 arms/shoulders and part of the back-bone with ribs. So then begins the work of cutting all the meat away from the bones. I have never done anything like this before in my life, but it seemed simple enough. We did it in our kitchen and here is what it looked like:

Notice we used wonderful tools such as a wood-axe and a knife bought from the hardware store that day.

It's tedious work cutting away all that meat from the backbone...but I was hungry for bear.

I haven't lived here a month and already I have had numerous "firsts" in terms of my experiences. God is blowing me away and teaching me ways of living which provide numerous examples of finding the spiritual significance that I can relate to the locals.