The Advantages of Milking By Hand

A brahma/jersey cross.  Big floppy ears disperse heat and increase 'adorable' by a factor of 5.

The first, and only, time I considered becoming a vegan was the day I walked into a Canadian dairy barn and saw the cows chained in their tie stalls. One of two types of dairy barns in Canada, the tie stall allots each cow a small space to eat, stand, and lie down, atop wood shavings or staw.  They are all chained in, and can not walk around at will.  If there is no dangerous ice and snow or mud to slip around on, they may receive an hour or two of daily liberation in an outside corral. I am a meat loving ominivore, raised around beef farming and horses.  If I were ever to wear an outfit in the streets made soley out of lettuce, it would be for the pure shocking joy of it, not because I am a card carrying member of PETA.  But, when I saw that set up,  when I saw the cows living their whole lives that way, I nearly crossed the floor.  Eventually I got used to it.  I saw that the animals were well cared for and mostly comfortable, but always, it made me uneasy at some level, knowing that this was where my milk and cheese was coming from.

Contrast this to my recent stay on a mixed farm in Honduras, near my new city of residence, Santa Rosa de Copán.  When I first got here four months ago, Jesús Alvarado invited me to visit his family farm. This weekend I took him up on his offer and was not disappointed.

I wanted a donkey, I got worms instead.

Originally my posting as a food security advisor was going to be in a very small, rural community in Western Honduras. Upon hearing this, I had made big plans before I left Canada to scrimpt together some of my volunteer honourarium and get myself a donkey. Nothing fancy, just an "A to B" model burro.  His name was to be "Toyota", or alternatively, "Vamonos" (Let's Go).  I arrived, and as we were warned in training could happen, plans had changed, and I was now to be stationed in the much less rural, larger centre of Santa Rosa de Copan.