Let me explain.
In all the movies and cartoons I've ever seen, roosters crow in the morning, in sync with the dawning of the sun.
FALSE.
The truth is roosters crow whenever they darn well feel like it, but especially between the hours of 10:00 p.m.-1:00 a.m. and 4:00 a.m.-7:00 a.m.
When I first arrived, the only roosters we griped about were a couple hundred yards up the road. While walking to La Puerta del Diablo we'd see them in our neighbor's yard and think I wish I could get my hands on that rooster. I'd like to wring its neck! But these were only dreams since killing other people's roosters would be wrong and would probably land us in jail.
And now for a piece of advice: If someone ever decides to give you baby chicks with the hopes that they will turn into useful egg-producing chickens - don't take them!
Case in point: In October Operation Blessing built a chicken coop on the first terrace level in the backyard below our office windows and donated twenty-two chicks for the above-mentioned purpose. We were so excited. The chicks were cute, the kids loved them and all seemed right with the world.
Fast-forward to January: our used-to-be-adorable chicks grew up and half of them turned into loud, noisy, annoying roosters that crow and crow and crow and crow. Fifty feet from my bedroom.
To be honest, as awful as it is, it's also rather humorous. Every morning, our roosters have a competition with the roosters up the road. The neighbor's rooster "cock-a-doodle-doo!", there's a five second pause and then two of our roosters will simultaneously return the call "cock-a-doodle-doo!", followed by another five second pause and the rooster up the road responds with another crow, starting the cycle all over again.
Our chickens and roosters are also professional escape artists. We built up the fencing around the chicken coop so they have room to wander outside, but don't have access to the entire back yard. Despite these precautions, I wake up every morning to find chickens and roosters outside the fencing, prancing around the terraces and steps, creeping dangerously close to the missionary rooms. And there I am once again, flailing my arms, yelling like a mad woman, chasing them back into their pen.
Here comes the point where vegetarians and anyone with a weak stomach should stop reading.
Over the past two weeks, because of coop overcrowding and because we decided we had one (or ten) too many roosters, we've been living out the fantasies of every visitor, volunteer and missionary who has silently cursed the roosters for denying them precious hours of sleep. One morning I returned to the house after an early run to find our tias and cook doing this:
On the menu that day: sopa de pollo (chicken soup) and pollo a la plancha (grilled chicken).
It was delicious. :)
