At the last English conversation group, Arturo, who spends his summers in the Dolomites with a herd of cattle, announced that he had something interesting for me to do. He knows I like to experience Italian life, warts and all. The following day, he had to kill a pig, and he thought I might like to do it.
Every instinct told me not to agree to it, but I had to wrestle with my conscience and possible hypocrisy. I’m happy to eat bacon, so why should I be squeamish about its origin? In the end, I decided to do it, but not this time. I felt I needed more time to prepare myself. I can reassure myself that Arturo is a gentle man who would never cause undue suffering, but could I actually pull the trigger? Watch this space.