ON EATING PORK, FINDING ONE'S FEET, OR THE PURPOSE OF LIFE. Cochinita Pibil from Hecelchakán, Campeche (real-deal version and homemade adaptation).
Peninsular-Mayan cuisine.
There is more in common between the films: Esmeralda’s Twilight —a 2018 opera prima by Mexican director, Ehécatl Garage, about an elderly widow who finds solace while in mourning by adopting a piglet named “Cuina”— and the brilliant animated-favorite, Babe —Canadian director Chris Noonan’s adaptation of The Sheep-pig by Dick King-Smith— than the obvious, yet-not-coincidental fact than they both portray pigs as central characters. Both stories, reveal deep soul-searching journeys on a naive an unpretentious way. There are a few coincidences thorough-out the stories, but there is one basic structural difference: in Babe, the pig is the protagonist of the inner-search, while in Esmeralda’s Twilight, it is the pet who encourages the human to question her existence. If we review our historic relationship with pigs, we’ll realize that the choice of animal is not random: there is something about the nature of pigs that motivates an awakening of the conscience.
We love pigs as much as we despise them. They can single-handedly represent, both what we like and dislike about ourselves as humans beings: we use them as mirrors. Sometimes we act like pigs, and others, we recognize their behaviors as "human". They are intelligent and empathetic (something that some humans aren’t). On the contrary of what Fly, the border collie in Babe, explains to her pups when the piglet arrives at the Hoggett farm: Not as stupid as sheep, mind you, but pigs are definitely stupid. She soon regrets her comment when observing the little pig, all surrounded by strange animals, bravely standing up for himself: Excuse me... No, we're not, says Babe. And he is right because according to an article about animal behavior, published by the International Journal of Comparative Psychology[1], the IQ of pigs cannot only match that of dogs, but in some aspects, they can outshine them: they have a good memory, an extraordinary sense of smell, self-awareness, and what psychologists define as "Machiavellian intelligence[2]"; they’re also friendly, affectionate and responsive to play like dogs; but there is one thing in which they are better: they can manipulate remote controls designed to replicate movements on screens, only pigs and chimpanzees are capable of doing it (that could explain Captain Bacon's ability to change tv channels in Toy Story 2, 1999).
In the same way, pigs also lead us to a contradiction: they are intelligent and empathetic, but they also nutritious and extremely tasty. Eating pork can be highly satisfying, but it can also give you at least two kinds of guilt: one that comes from empathy and another that is a result of moral contempt. Despite their nutritional qualities, pigs are also considered impure animals. This idea appears in vestiges and myths from the pre-Christian era, where there’s usually a duality between genders: while “the male pig is almost always the symbol of dark tendencies, in all sorts of forms; like ignorance, gluttony, lust, and selfishness”, says Maurice Chevalier (Dictionary of Symbols, 1969), “the female pig is a symbol of fertility and abundance”.
Though eating pork was not officially turned into sin until when, by religious mandate, it was declared to be an “inedible and untouchable animal”, as it was written in Leviticus. Its consumption was first prohibited by Judaism, and later by Islam as well. The reason was based on the perception that the pig was a dirty animal because it wallowed in its feces, and therefore was a source of disease.
Although it was later confirmed that pork meat could only be dangerous when undercooked, that it was not less clean or immune to diseases than any other comestible mammals (pigs are clean animals by nature, but they do not sweat, and, in lack of water and mud, they cool-off themselves with whatever they can find around), and that their external hygiene does not affect their gustatory and nutritional values (pork has higher protein content than most meats), abstention prevails to date. It was as a result of this dilemma, that humanity was divided into what American anthropologist Marvin Harris defined as "pig lovers & pig haters" in Cows, Pigs, Wars, and Witches: The Riddles of Culture (1975).
On the opposite side of sin, filthiness, and contempt for pigs; there’s love, life, reproduction, abundance, and renewal. Marvin Harris exemplifies this idea in his book, with a ritual of the Tsembaga Maring tribes of New Guinea, which consist of armed combat between communities that concludes with a massive pork slaughter followed by a feast (where the equivalent of 10-year livestock is consumed). Anthropologist Roy Rappaport, who studied these tribes thoroughly in Pigs for the Ancestors: Ritual in the Ecology of a New Guinea People (1968), argued that behind the practice of this ritual called “Kaiko” there was a complex ecosystem of self-regulation that ensured the balance of natural resources, human, and animal populations within these communities.
Despite this implicit polarization between “pig lovers” and “pig haters”, there is a third category that probably escaped Harris’ analysis: the pigs’ best friends, those who love them enough to refuse to eat them. Like farmer Hogget (Babe) and Mrs. Esperanza (Esmeralda’s Twilight).
In a cinematic coincidence, both piglets arrive loudly in the life of their new caretakers: Babe, during the hustle and bustle of the town fair; and Cuina carried on board a pickup truck with techno music on a noisy old speaker. Stunned and furious by the noise, Mrs. Esmeralda (who had not eaten for several days since her husband's funeral, despite the judicious attempts of Mrs. Lorenza and the other neighbors to comfort her with delicious food: freshly fallen pears from the tree, bean tamales, chichilo stew, rice, buñuelos and a little bit of Mezcal... What? I found it in the house, Lorenza explains), gets out of her house to find out who is responsible for the uproar. Suddenly, the world becomes silent for a few seconds and Esmeralda’s soul returns to her body when she opens the back door of the truck and finds baby Cuina. Her gaze lights up, she adopts her immediately: she bathes her, talks to her, feeds her... she recovers her appetite by watching Cuina slurp a chicken soup that she just prepared for her: the dish that symbolizes good care. Only someone who really loves you will hand you a bowl of hot chicken soup when you are "a little bit low" like little Babe was when Fly decided to take the piglet under her paw. The paw on the head is the bowl of soup, and the bowl of soup is maternal love. The kind that surpasses blood ties.
Something similar happens to Mr. Hoggett when he takes Babe out of a box on a weighting contest that he surprisingly wins. The piglet, which had been squealing all day long, suddenly becomes silent and attentive: The pig and the farmer regarded each other, says the narrator, and for fleeting a moment, something passed between them, a faint sense of some common destiny.
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