FOOD

Food is absolutely the thing I miss and think about most. Before I left, the main advice I kept hearing was eat! Eat all the American food you can! Eat all the food you know you won’t be able to have for the next two years! Eat! Eat! So I did. I think I averaged about three bowls of ice cream a night, over indulging on the piggy treats by telling myself this was a necessary part of the pre-departure phase.

All of those glutinous sessions were fine until I arrived here and realized just how rarely (ever?!) I’ll get to enjoy the comforts of pizza, burritos, ice cream… or ice water. I wonder if it’s almost made it worse satisfying any possible craving before I left, and then to be so completely deprived of any culinary comforts. For example: during my first couple nights with my host family, my food was brought to me in a covered dish, and after opening the lid, I was shocked to see I was being served pasta with fish… but WHOLE FISH-  head and all- though not a fish that we are used to seeing, but a fish that looks more prehistoric just hanging out on my spaghetti; I tried really hard to be open minded and go with it… but… oh man, gross.

Right?? gross.

My nightly serving of fish brings me to my second thought about food: OLD BAY. It has been my saving grace and my tool for forming cultural exchanges. One night when my stomach dropped particularly low after lifting the cover and seeing more fish (though sans the head by this point), I realized I should use the Old Bay I brought with me. After shaking that familiar, yellow, metal box onto the fish and tasting it, my body actually started to tingle with excitement and I felt my mood noticeably improve.

I’m not the only one here who loves Old Bay though! I gave a box to my host father, Momoro, as a gift and have since seen him just walking around the courtyard with Old Bay in hand, laying outside on his mat, listening to music with the Old Bay box next to him, or returning from another person’s courtyard with the Old Bay saying how he just tried it with a new dish and how good it is (he has already told me to tell my parents to send over more so he has back up when he runs out). The other day, my friend’s host father came over with food and asked to try some of the “special salt” Momoro has been talking about. He loved it on his rice and beans too!

  

Mamourou's friend who came buy to try the "special salt" --- Me with Mamourou! He's holding my mom's photo I gave him when his son was born a couple weeks ago.

Last comment on food is how wonderful Thanksgiving was. Our mood was so noticeably high and festive with the thought of a dinner (and leftovers) of comforting food. The day was filled with cooking, hat making, hanging out, and finished with a meal of: turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing, green bean casserole, peas, salad, garlic bread, brownies, cake, cookies, banana bread, apple crisp, and then French toast the next morning. We invited the Burkinabe staff to eat with us and our Country Director came down from the capitol to join as well.

Not sure if this photo will show... but photo of some friends munching on our feast

So given how much food affects my mood, I sit up at night reading the Peace Corps Burkina Faso Cookbook just imagining the food I’ll make for myself at site. But the trade off for making my own food is moving away from my kind host family that has been such a comfort so far… so really, despite my complaining, I’m fine appreciate eating the fish with Old Bay for now if it means I get to hang out with them for a bit longer.

Might not show up either.... My host mom, Amata, holding the new baby boy, Adinani, and my host sisters, Adaya and Sophia, and Asconda, my host brother :)