Warning, Christmas is gruesome in Medellin

If any of you are squeamish with things like blood, dead animals, or pig insides, here is a warning to not ready any further (here's hoping the pictures made it below the fold and you have to scroll to see them!).

They're a strange thing, traditions, here in Medellin. From cooking sancocho (an everything-but-the-kitchen-sink soup) to natilla (a pudding-like sweet), Medellinses like to prepare their traditional Christmas dishes on the street, making it a family and neighbor affair. So when Gio and I went for a walk with an English girlfriend of ours on Christmas Eve, climbing up and up through the neighborhoods surrounding the center, we were prepared for some block-party style festivities.

The first pig we saw as we sat casually having a beer at a friend's restaurant. Across the street they were already in the final stages of slicing up the pig and segmenting every bit of it so nothing would go to waste. As soon as Giovanni pointed it out, I turned my head back to my beer and continued my conversation with the restaurant owner. Meanwhile Toni, our English friend, and Giovanni headed over to have a look at the pig, with Toni lingering to ask questions and take pictures, stuck there like at the scene of a car accident that you just can't turn away from.

Later as we continued to walk the streets of the Salvador, Milagrosa, and las Palmas neighborhoods, we saw 2 more pigs in different stages of the slaughtering process. One looked freshly killed, on its back with its legs in the air, waiting to be cut down the middle. When we wandered over to have a closer look, the men, wanting to show off as they always do, proceeded to take the knife and show us how it was done. They pointed out the different parts and explained why they were cutting here (so the intestines wouldn't explode) and not there (they didn't want to ruin the pig!). After that first cut I was done, ready to be a pork vegetarian for the rest of my life, or at least every Christmas. As we were walking away they told us to come back in a few hours to have a piece of the pig in whatever form they chose to cook it up that night. I'm sure the offer still stands, and maybe tonight before midnight when Gio and I go on another walk, we'll take advantage of one of these many invitations.