-^-for posterity-^-

i ate chicken head yesterday. i walked by the security guard's shack around supper time. they asked me if i wanted to come in for a bite to eat. seeing as how it's rude to refuse, i strolled into their very humble abode.

their house is about ten feet wide and about fifteen feet long. it has enough room for two beds, one large dresser and a desk. there is a window with bars on it on one side. the inside is decorated with nothing but blank bricks. the bricks were placed together fairly sloppily, though. there are large gaps where no mortar was spread. the bars and the bricks and the mortar made the place feel like a jail cell more than a home.

there were two guards there and they explained to me that they had too much food and wanted to invite someone else. they were eating snake, chicken and an assortment of vegetables. the older guard has a very friendly face and his forehead wrinkles when he smiles. he always waves to me when i pass and lowers his head a bit. he's solidly build. the other man has a very concerned look on his face. he never wears a shirt and seems to be analyzing everything all the time.

we sat and i was given a bowl. i had a piece of black snake and some chicken. i finished it and was given the chicken's head. i claimed not to know how to eat the chicken head so the analytical security guard scoffed up and picked up a second head. i hadn't anticipated that one would have a meal with more than one chicken head. he showed me that, yes, it was easy to eat the head. all you have to do is maneuver it in your chopsticks until the beak is pointing downward and bring the back of the head to your mouth. bite the head just below the eyes. then, mull the brain, eyes and skull around in your mouth until you can distinguish the skull bits. spit the skull on the ground and enjoy the savoring flavor of fowl brain. do this all with a straight face as to not insult anyone.

funny, today i don't feel any smarter.

i talked to the security guard about what he did when he was younger. he lifted his shirt sleeve and showed me a deep scar in his arm. he was shot. he also showed me a scar in his hand. that was from a grenade. he then pointed to himself and said, "i vc" we had a good talk and i tried to explain how much i wanted to learn vietnamese culture. he said he would try to help.