April 15, 2016
On April 12, 2016, a group of 缅北强奸 students in "Different tastes: evolution of human diet," a course taught by Aida Abdykanova, visited Riha's local sausage and meat processing facilities. Vanessa Graf, a student on the trip, spoke with us about her experience.
Four ghosts at Riha
A visit to Kyrgyzstan鈥檚 leading sausage producer
Written by Vanessa Graf
听
"It takes only 60 seconds to turn us into ghosts.
A company official hands out white coats, hairnets, plastic shoe covers, and facial masks. Cleanliness and sanitary regulations are evidently taken very seriously at the Bishkek production site of Riha, a household name for anything sausage in Kyrgyzstan. Not only do the workers have to be completely covered, but visitors do, too, and so we obediently put on the garments.
All but disappearing underneath the sterile clothing, we immediately get down to business and do the obvious: take a selfie. Four white little ghosts are smiling from the picture 鈥� or, at least, they presumably are: it is not easy to tell with the masks covering everything except the eyes. And off we go, on our visit to Riha鈥檚 meat production site, to find out how Kyrgyz sausages are made.
We are shuffled into a cold room, filled with the sound of heavy machinery. Before we see the many workers, hands deep in dead animal flesh, a peculiar smell hits us: this is definitely a meat production site. The cool temperature and the ventilation system keep the signature smell to a minimum, but let鈥檚 face it, there are lovelier scents to be smelled in this world. Later, we find out that Riha not only produces sausages, but also specializes in diary products and baked goods, making some of us wish that we could have gone to look at (and smell) some freshly baked bread instead.
We slowly walk through the different rooms and watch the stages of sausage production: we see where the meat gets cut from the bones, we see it being separated into different containers, depending what use it will be put to, we see it go to the different work stations. Enormous blenders process the meat, the buzzing and humming of the machinery fills the air. There are large containers on the floor, some containing pieces of chopped-up animals, still recognizable as meat, some others filled with a pink, gooey mass that looks more like dissolving chewing gum than anything else.
The pink substance 鈥� consisting of eggs, spices, and different kinds of meat, primarily pork 鈥� is passed into shiny machines. In goes the gooey stuff, outcome: sausages, neatly packed into different plastic skins. At one workstation, workers manually pump the meat into real animal intestines, for the more traditional kind of sausage. The finished products are hung up on large racks and rolled off to their next destination.
We follow the sausage鈥檚 path and end up in front of what looks like enormous metal refrigerators. The smell is, once again, odd, but different than before. Our guide opens a heave steel door, and out comes smoke, filling the room and curling in little spirals up to the ceiling. With it comes the smell of something slightly burned: we are standing in front of the smokers.
Once the sausages are smoked, they are showered off to get rid of the black dust, and finally, they pass to the cooling rooms. We enter some of them and feel chilled to the bone: if the temperature in the working rooms felt a little cold before, it now embraces us warmly as we step out again.
With the smell of smoked sausage still clinging to our clothes (a sensation that would last the entire day, inciting people around us to wrinkle their noses in curiosity), we are led to the packing station, where the finished sausages get a plastic finish. Most of the work is done by a machine that takes up the biggest part of the room, but some manual labor is still required: Riha workers diligently put the sausages in their little pre-designed places, sending them off to be sealed.
We are quickly sent off to our next and last stop, as well 鈥� thankfully so, because even in the higher levels of the building, far away from where most of the meat is processed, the specific smell of a meat production site persists. The group is led to a little canteen, with snacks and beverages waiting to be tasted. Cradling the little cup of warm tea in our hands, we slowly begin to try the products. Riha has prepared sausage samples for us, as well as a cheese plate, bread, milk, and sugary pastries from their bakery.
The company official from the beginning sits down with us and answers the questions that went unheard in the loud surroundings of the production site. With a smile, she even answers the most intrusive questions, gently smiling at the inquisitive vegetarian of the group (full disclosure: yours truly, the author of this article). We find out that the company exists for more than 20 years already, distributing sausages and other products all over Kyrgyzstan and beyond. We ask about the animals, the producing farms, and their al-halal line of meat. We discover the working hours, the pay, and the company鈥檚 security and sanitary requirements. Every question is met with a patient answer, nothing is left unclear.
As we exit the building, we walk along a corridor lined with certificates of excellence. As a vegetarian, I might not be able to taste their sausages, I might not even be able to approve of the meat industry that Riha is a part of 鈥� but one thing is certain: I can definitely say that Riha pays great attention to making the whole process as safe and sanitary as possible, as is easily confirmed by glancing at the many awards lining the walls.
After a long and interesting visit, we step through the company鈥檚 gate and laugh.
As we breathe in the first fresh air in a long time, our lungs surely do, too."
听
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