“Selamat pagi, good morning,” I say.
She flashes a toothless smile and bright eyes.
A barefoot man carves the goat flesh as customers place orders. He skewers three pieces on a bamboo stick, grills them over a charcoal fire, and calls it Satay Kambing. Five bamboo sticks of roasted goat tucked in a brown paper cone and drenched in warm, spicy peanut sauce makes an order. A line forms early.
By evening, the hanging goat is nothing but scraped bones with hoofs and tail.
On my way home, I say “Selamat malam, good evening,” to the woman still fanning the goat. She stares into space and hardly notices me.