There was no island-wide electricity supply. However, it did have a tiny hospital staffed by one doctor and one nurse. Because they had to keep many of their drugs, ointments and serums cold, they needed a stand-alone generator for their fridge. It also powered hospital lighting for a couple of hours at night and allowed reliable illumination of delicate operations.
Now, because there was no electricity, there were no domestic refrigerators in which to store meat or fish. Sea food had to be eaten soon after it was caught or it would simply go rotten and become a health hazard. After all, Rotuma is located in the sultry tropics, halfway between The Equator and The Tropic of Capricorn.
For most islanders, eating meat was a rare treat. Small herds of pigs were reared in the bush and generally fed on coconut meat and vegetable peelings and whatever they found by rooting around. There were hardly any cattle but many families kept a few hens both for eggs and the pot. If a chicken was killed it was soon plucked and gutted and cooked. There were no fridges in which to put leftovers for later or the next day.
One day, there was great excitement. A cow was to be butchered in our village. This was to happen in the relative cool of the night.
It was duly tethered and shot in the head as its throat was cut. Then the butchering began. An older man from another village had been brought over to lead this process. It happened on a bed of banana leaves under hurricane lanterns. At first the carcass steamed as the hide was removed. There was the noise of slicing and cutting and raised voices that I didn't understand but it was an unusual event and there was much excitement.
Meat was weighed and wrapped into parcels. Men on puttering mopeds took orders away to other villages as the residents of Motusa walked home with their bundles of fresh beef. By daybreak the job was done. I have no idea what they did with the bones but they would not have been wasted. Local dogs feasted on what was left as dawn bled into another bright morning.
That day, in many homes, islanders tucked into beef stews or strips of grilled beef. By Monday all of the beef would have been consumed because, as I say, there was nowhere to store it safely.
This brings me to my main point. Here in the western world we have become used to the possibility of eating meat or fish every day but when you think about it that is entirely down to refrigeration. Ships bring frozen lamb from as far away as New Zealand and Argentina. Modern supermarkets have chillers and freezers and nowadays every home in the land has a fridge and maybe a freezer too.
We take these things for granted but it wasn't always the case. For most of our forebears, eating fresh unsalted meat was an intermittent treat. It did not happen every day. In that sense, they had a lot in common with Rotuman islanders. Refrigeration has had and continues to have a massive impact on our eating habits. It is an impact that has only really been felt for the last one hundred years. Before that it was all so very different.
from Yorkshire Pudding https://ift.tt/Y1l5AM4
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