I perfectly remember when I graduated from university, I left far from home to work in a laboratory that had always been located outside the provincial capital where I lived. A place anchored at the foot of an enormous mountain range and in the middle of an old farm called "The French" surrounded by coffee, oranges, guavas, and many types of mangoes. There I ate the best mangoes of my entire life, some of which I don't even know the names of today because no one could ever explain them to me.
Well, the fact is that certainly while some of these fruits were in season my stomach didn't growl as much as when the trees only had branches left in their regrowth stage. Outside of these dates, hunger was fierce throughout the area, and more than anything my food depended on what they offered us in the shelters, without breakfast, some head of rice with peas for lunch, and the same rhetoric for food ... the lucky thing was that there were also some furrows of vegetables that bordered our perimeter fence - from neighboring farmers - from which we furtively stole some tomatoes, lettuce and cabbages ... and I was taught that by those who were there before me ... 😅 ... some chicken, duck, piglet may have also been lost ... but since a few years have passed I can now talk about that because the period of the crime has expired
So I think I'm ready to tell you whether I would eat a human being out of hunger if I had no other options.
Does it look like food? Yes, it's my food today, and it tastes horrible but is healthy for my stomach... it has chicken in it.
This is my entry for the weekend commitments Galenkp proposes.
>Would I resort to cannibalism if I were starving? Or would I prefer to starve to death? ...Something like that...
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***Being hungry isn't bad, what's bad is not having anything to eat to satisfy your vital needs.***
But I'm still missing the other part of the story.
I also remember that we were only two women in a group of five men... the always more daring men used to go out like the Indians, scouring the mountains and to see what appeared, or perhaps because we have the need to survive inscribed in our DNA, like the Indian gatherers, hunters, farmers, and fishermen. That way, a few things from time to time were added to our meals.
But there was one boy in particular who occasionally transformed into **Dr. Jekyll**, because he **"hunted rabbits."**
One afternoon, all the men were gathered around playing dominoes, drinking chispa de tren—a Cuban artisanal drink laced with a horrible stench—with some local peasants as guests. Amidst the male sporting excitement, they brought out a tray with a huge roasted "rabbit." The smell disturbed everyone's mind, possessing us a great hallucinogenic powers.
The package said it was minced chicken...I prepared it without many spices to take care of my stomach...I'm not vegetarian either.
Sooner rather than later, someone invited me to try it, and of course, I accepted the crumb they offered me.
In my mind, there's only the memory of a spectacular roasted smell and taste, one of those that makes your skin crawl and your pupils widen from the strong impression. The balanced acidity of the silky meat would make anyone drool... that's how I gobbled up the little piece, literally, it was just a little piece.
As soon as the piece of meat slid down my throat, a friend approached me and told me that he had just tried ***THE CAT*** from Juan's wife who lived at the tip of the hill next to the reeds. And I began to sweat slowly and miserably from the bad impression.
I'd be lying if I told you I went to throw it up, no, I didn't. However, I didn't sleep that night and the following nights either. I argued with Dr. Jekyll, I said horrible things to him, I went months without speaking to him even though he was my superior, and I grew disgusted with him.
They look horrible, I know...b very good for broths and stews...I don't regret being a carnivore.
His personal worth diminished in my eyes. He wasn't himself; he was a man with no boundaries of conduct and not a shred of scruples.
Years passed before I felt like he could be a human being again.
So, I understand that extreme circumstances force us to change norms, behaviors, actions, and survival impulses... but to eat human flesh, it would have to be very well prepared, ***its identity hidden***, so I could even try it. Otherwise, I don't think I have the slightest courage to do so.
The fact is that as long as we don't lose consciousness that the flesh belongs to a human being, an equal, a being with its own identity, we won't be able to eat it, because it would be like endangering ourselves as a species, normalizing behaviors we've long since left behind, despite still being animals, but with the difference that we have reason.
And this should be called a "scam" because it's not meat, but kids love it...
But I also can't predict that if I happen to experience a real event like that of the children in the film ["The Snow Society,"](https://youtu.be/pDak4qLyF4Q?si=_h7PjvSfzpzhb7IX) I might act differently, because when humans are in groups, they have a significant influence on one another... and inevitably, you get carried away, and sometimes it can turn out well, and other times it can turn out badly.
[Is it true that cannibalism is legal in Idaho, USA?](https://share.google/Udb5QqTAFW10zBBr7) Are we accepting that its practice is possible under extreme conditions?
Perhaps only someone who has experienced this type of experience is capable of a more consistent and vivid analysis.
What do you think?
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###### Always very grateful for your reading.
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The text is entirely my own ✍🏼
All photos are my property 📸
Translation done with Deep Translate, free versión 🖥️
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