Goat and dog meat soup

In the streets of Istanbul, Turkey, there was a steady flow of blood on the streets as people were preparing lamb for the New Year festivities. I walked with a sharp wind blowing from the Black Sea, curled up and carefully skipped my shoes to keep the blood water flowing all over the place. It was similar to the scenery of my family in my childhood when my aunts cooked the goat meat.

A goat’s meat stew is one of the odors of childhood memories. Aunts gathered to boil goats for my mother who had a chronic disease while giving birth to my youngest sister. Of course, they took a pot full.

The black goats were so expensive that I overheard the story of selling the white goat was painting black shoe polished. I used to think ‘isn’t it a nasty smell to boil a white goat with black shoe polish?

It was for my mother's health, but it was also to try to keep me health. I was quick to notice that if my mom was going to feed goat soup as a Gomtang(beef born soup), I closed my mouth tight before the spoon came near my mouth. What a fuss about throwing up the soup!

After my mother passed away, my father tried to feed me dog meat soup like a mother. Dog meat is not even more. He said ‘when you ate only one spoon, you wanted to eat it again.’ He brought dog meat soup as a Yukgaejang (spicy beef soup) to the house and tried to feed it. He clicked his tongue at sight of me, my intestines were twisted and my hand covered my mouth.

My mom and dad struggled with the sorrow that they felt I could be health if they fed me the goat and dog meat soups.

It was too late and a long time ago when I realized that it is no more than loving parents to receive their parents' love.