Sausages
I have always dreamed of eating sausages prior to leaving this planet, given a chance to choose the time and place. So on returning to Japan I did bring a packet of Goan sausages with me, as only enlightened men and women I'm told know exactly when and where they are going to die. Even though I may be ignorant of the time and place of my death I always thought I knew my sausages. While in Margao I picked up a packet of Goan sausages which was reasonably priced and labeled: Home Made. Now this brought a big smile to my face as it was the real thing, not a mass produced product available on the market but sausages made in Goa! I love the pig the way some people love the cow. Scientists inform us, for organ replacements among animals, the pig is the most suitable for human beings. Now if the cow is our mother and the pig is our father, wouldn't it explain why we human beings are confused? While Hindus venerate the cow and Muslims look down on the pig, I too have my prejudices. I dislike chickens! When I was a child my teacher (who by the way only drank tea) warned us with a teacherly look on her face: 'Don't be a chicken!' Ever since I've prayed to the thirty three million Gods of the Hindus to give me courage to go through life. Even though I was born a Roman Catholic, I feel to this day we Roman Catholics are poor as we have only one God. How about some more? 'God is one,' say the Hindus. So can we. No problem. Besides chickens, pigs also bring back childhood memories. When as a tiny tot I was taught how to spell which I hated with all my heart, the only word I liked was pig! I would ask weaker spellers how to spell pig after which I would innocently ask which letter was in the middle. He or she would answer confidently: I! Are you in the middle I would then ask incredulously, a great joke it was or so appeared to my infantile mind. Decades later, and a teacher at that, today it seems even funnier. Needless to say, it is still my favorite joke. Did I get derailed? If so, I'll get back on track, not Konkan though. A few days after arriving in Japan it was time to open the packet of Goan sausages even though I felt in my bones it was not really time for me to make a departure from this world. I boiled the sausages for a long time and then patiently waited until the toasted bread was ready to embrace the home made sausages. Although I cannot claim to be an expert on Goan sausages, by the time I had finished eating the sausages I began to feel like one of the on demand criers we have in abundance at Goan funerals. Make no mistake: the sausages were the hottest thing I've eaten in my life! Even though the label said - Home Made - I wondered in whose home it was made, and of course it must be one hell of a home. Obviously, the manufacturers have filled a niche market where you need to give a promotional touch of Goan family life to the food products. My advise to other NRGs who might want to take away food to wherever they might be working around the world is to make sure you know where it is made, in whose house, that is. Made in Goa might well bring tears to your eyes.
