Poor little Tacuazin   Leave a comment

For months now I’ve heard the name “Tacuazin” (tah-kwah-seen) mentioned plenty of times, but never saw one.  I figured it was a weasel from the way it was described, but alas, it’s simply an opossum.  And apparently, El Salvador is full of so many they are considered a pest or a nuisance, much like raccoons back home.

Photo by Rafael Menjivar Ochoa

I alerted my husband and ran back to the kitchen with him.  Here, he says, and hands me the “Corba,” a type of machete.  My face turned into a question mark.   I found the little guy behind the fridge and tried to “shush” him out the kitchen, while my husband yelled from behind “kill him!” in Spanish.  “Nooooo!”  I replied.  The tacuazin started making its way out of the kitchen, but not fast enough.  My husband grabbed the broom and I screamed “Don’t kill him!”   BAM!   I let out a yelp and dashed to other side of the patio.

I’ll never forget the look of agony on the poor little guy’s face; his mouth wide open in a silent scream, and he was looking right at me.   Oh gawd!   He looked something like this before the matanza (massacre), only much smaller:

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