Azerbaijournal #5: The one - or five - that got away

I'm not sure what happened, but I think my host family has run out of money for the month. As far as I know, they haven't made any radical purchases... though now that I think of it, there IS a new meat grinder in the kitchen. Hmmm.

So how did I discover we're out of dough? One day as I came home from school, our dog began barking at me. Considering I had been living in the same house for 17 months, I thought it was strange that the dog would suddenly strain to break off its leash and attack me. Then I realized that the dog wasn't barking at me, but instead at a strange, little box shaking violently outside the cellar.

"Now what, praytell, would this box be?" asked Pandora.

Upon closer inspection, I discovered this box was a cage, rigged to a string hanging out the kitchen window. You know, like in Dennis the Menace. Cheep cheep cheep, in little bird squeaks, cried from the prison-box in agony. Indeed, these sad little voices belonged to not one, but FIVE imprisoned sparrows vainly attempting to escape. I then suddenly realized the origin of all the small yet tender meat we had been eating for about a week. Yes, my friends. That happy little sparrow you see fluttering outside your bedroom window is quite delicious AND nutritious!

That evening, we went out to capture our helpless prey. Like a pack of wolves, we circled the cage and placed a potato sack over the cage. OK, well maybe wolves don't use sacks. Here is a video of our desperate attempt to hunt and gather in our back yard:

Hélas! The sparrows, liberated from their bonds of iron (or were the walls of that cage perforated cardboard?), sprang forth into the wind like speeding bullets, taking with them our hopes for meat and crunchy bones.

That night, the four of us ate three potatoes. I love this place.