Fish Porn

We had to ask around to find the first shop, my Norwegian friend and I were informed this afternoon that there was indeed a store that carried what we were looking for. “Go down the stairs,” we were told, they have what you need. Indeed, I thought, indeed. So down the stairs we walked, only to find out we came to the back door. A brilliant combination of aromas emanating from the establishment was intoxicating. No, they couldn’t help us. But they did have chicken, mutton—and pork. This last word he whispered, truly, and looked behind him to see if anyone had quite stealthily crept up to the front counter while his back was turned.

“Pork?” I asked, also in a muted whisper. Yes. He provided a one-word response that belied the severity of such a product within the confines of such a contentiously religious state. No thank you. Not because I am adverse to the pork product- much to the contrary- but I have seen what pigs eat in this country. I haven’t seen what pigs eat back home. “Mai ‘pish’ karto hou.” He looked back to the street and pointed in a direction, “go to big building opposite construction site. ‘Pish’ inside.” We thanked him and graciously exited out of the store, this time through the front door.

The way this adventure was going I half expected to see a store with blacked out window, a wiry neon sign with the words ‘Live Fresh Pish” blinking on and off. What we found was the cleanest fish and chicken market. Cleaner than butcher shops and any fish market in NYC. I would want this guy in my neighborhood back home. The order was simple, but glutinous. Could we make it home before the ice melted. Could we afford to buy more than one kind, a full kilo – hey- what kind of fish is that one?

As we ordered a crowd of young men gathered around us. They watched our every move. Clearly pure vegetarians- all of them. Entranced by the foreigners buying the flesh, they spoke to each other in muted voices. Were they tempted? Had our act of non-veggieness prompted a coup among the religious masses? Would they ban the sale to future shoppers?

Grins on our faces we were clearly enjoying the rush of doing something that felt so bad- so dirty. As we walked with our fish porn it hit us how visible such a bag would appear, the whole world would know by the look on our faces and the tell-tale black plastic porn bag in which our fish flesh was wrapped. We quickly opened my companion’s satchel and hid the evidence, crossed the street and went home by a different route.