I am in Busua, a small village in the Western Region where tourism founds its way to. A few hostels and hotels at the beach and a fishing community living in ramshackle houses are the predominant sites on the one street that is the main street.
A friend and I are sitting in a small restaurant and I smell a very distinct smell from right behind the small wall of bamboo. Peeking over it reveals a common scenario. A woman preparing food outside her house.
Being in a fishing community, bloody pots and knifes as well as bones and bowels lying everywhere is nothing special any more. You get used to it.
Than I remember how I saw her earlier carrying a dead turtle from one of the fishing boats into the village. Now she was sitting here and preparing the turtle. Hacking it into peaces and cooking it to take out all the fat and flavor. Even the organs were cooked to make up for a pretty awesome image.
The big green peaces to the top are parts of the shell which still had meat in them.
The orange yellow balls are eggs.
It is turtle season right now so the females are coming to the beaches to lay their eggs and get stuck in the long nets of the fishermen. Hostels and hotels as well as surf shops try to advocate marine conservation policies with small effects on local populations. Still poverty drives local fishermen into digging up the nests or poaching the females when they come to the shore.
In the end an endangered green turtle is nothing but additional income.