Please do not read this if you are an animal activist and/or you have a soft spot for sea turtles. The photo that follows may be disturbing for you.
When we first arrived at Martin’s house our first day in Aranuka, there were two very large turtles on shore laying on their back, presumed dead. I was a bit curious, in a dark sort of way, so I asked Martin about it, and he told us that these two are for “the feast.” I thought maybe that meant the New Year’s Day feast, but that turned out not to be the case. In hindsight I think maybe they were for an election day celebration that never happened. Anyway, Martin seemed simultaneously proud and cautious about my interest in the turtles. Proud to have such specimens ready for a feast but cautious, because he was clearly familiar with how our culture feels about sea turtles, and he was probably a bit worried of where I was going to go with it. He asked us if we’d ever eaten turtle before, and he seemed a bit relieved when I replied positively that we had tasted turtle soup in Grand Cayman.
In addition to these two big guys, there was also a smaller turtle that they slaughtered that day, and Martin gave us some of the fresh turtle meat to try. We had mixed feelings about it, given that sea turtles are endangered and all. Although we were trying not to judge them for their approach at obtaining food and living, we weren’t exactly comfortable with following the “when in Rome..” philosophy in this case. In the end, though, we took the meat and I cooked it up and we had turtle tacos for lunch. We decided that since the turtle was slaughtered already, it would be better to honor the turtle by eating it than just throwing it out. All of us except Brenden. He was a conscientious objector and refused to eat any of it. In fact, for weeks after if I cooked chicken or pork he would double check that I wasn’t trying to sneak turtle on him.
The meat was tasty, and I can see why the people like it as an alternative to all the fish they eat, since it was much more like chicken than seafood.
But the story gets a little worse. A couple days later we were back at Martin’s house and the two large turtles were still lying there on their backs. At first, I was a bit grossed out thinking they must be rotting by now and hoping no one ends up getting really sick. But then I was startled to the point that I jumped a little when one of the turtles moved its head and one of its flippers. Holy crap, they are still alive! Of course, it makes sense, but that didn’t make it any easier to stomach. It’s not like there is refrigeration to store the meat, so they keep the animals alive until they are ready to eat them, and we learned that they can keep the turtles like this for up to a month.
Like I told Brenden, it takes a certain level of affluence to be able to consider animal rights on the same level as your need to eat. And before you judge these people, I’d like to point out that this is a small village feeding themselves, and the turtle population in and around Aranuka is quite large.
Brenden stood firm on his principles about the turtle, though, and I was proud of him for that.
Gresham Family Exodus 