Okay.. so I am very behind... here is the weekend and recent download..
Saturday January 28, 2007
It is raining this evening. Crazy bucket loads of rain that blusters subtly through my apartment causing small pools in unpredictable places. It was a beautiful day, glorious morning light waking me from my slumber, hot African sun warming my legs as I walked to do chores. Now we have this storm that thrashes the windows shut and spills into the crevices. Although I bathed already I set my tubs out to gather in the downpour. It will be nice to have water that isn’t the color of clay; that leaves silt in the basin.
The rain is so intense that for the time being the liveliness of my neighborhood has taken pause. The sound of the drops on metal and concrete stills the sound of the voices and transportation and transactions usually taking place at all hours of the day. I actually wake around six every morning. Not I think, because of the rooster, but because of the peace, the quiet before the rush of living starts again. It is in this same hush that I find myself now, despite the noisiness of the rain.
Sunday January 29, 2007
The variety and availability of ingredients in the Kisumu market is astonishing. The vendors themselves spill out onto the footpaths surrounding the pavilion, so that as you browse you have to remember to avoid the matatus and boda-bodas who are as eager to run you down, as they are to get your custom. Along the roadside ladies sit with their mats and baskets of bell peppers, bunched cilantro, various shades of onions, twists of garlic, spiky green and red hot peppers, knobs of ginger, small and large bananas (green through black), piles of papaya, neatly stacked oranges, bags of passion fruit, sacks of potatoes, drums of rice (measure by the tin full) and dried pulses to name but a few. They also have smoked tilapia, chunks of meat, what looks like tiny dried sardines, and other things I don’t yet have names for.
Overall, I am getting much better at marketing. It has been a big adjustment, shopping and cooking for one. I don’t miss having a refrigerator but it changes the frequency at which I must buy fresh produce, as well as how long things keep for. I have to limit myself to purchasing only two fruit or vegetables per day. A small chunk of pumpkin and some beans makes a pretty hefty portion when added to 50 grams of rice. One avocado and a tomato made two massive guacamole sandwiches, far more than I would typically eat in one sitting.
When I first moved in, I hit the grocery store picking up a couple of this, one of that, a bag of the other (I bought a dozen eggs for goodness sakes!). Of course days later I found myself wondering what to do with all the moldy food that was only serving to excite the already hyperactive winged population in my house. I feel immense shame when I throw food away; compounded by the fact that the trash pile is centrally located between a cluster of other homes. In a country where the majority live off starchy ugali, greens and meat (if they’re lucky), my refuse is a pointed reminder of the lifestyle differences between myself and my neighbors. When I have scraps, I find myself putting them out when the goats or chickens are pecking about (could I give the livestock food poisoning??)
In addition to being better able to judge quantities, I now have a sense of what things should cost. Initially it was intimidating to attempt to buy goods when I hadn’t a clue what was a typical price. Is 30 cents a lot for a mango? A dollar too much for a pile of apples? I had a chat with someone’s housekeeper this weekend and she gave some general parameters. Though I am charged what I’m charged and I usually pay up without quarrel, I feel better being armed with the knowledge of relative costs.
So that all said this afternoon I headed for the market place, confident, assured, I was going to track down a bag of shelled peas for my dinner. My mission successful, I arrived home with plans to don my imaginary apron (frills and all) and cook up a curry. As I sit down now to a mango and a bar of chocolate instead, I’ll just say … the fact that the electricity would be out had never even entered my mind.
1 comment:
not to worry....we had a "slop" bucket in our kitchen growing up (my parents still have one!)where we would dump everything,(well, everything except scraps that the dogs could enjoy:-)) including moldy food found in the back of the fridge. The slop bucket contents then went straight to the pigs. they loved every moldy, smelly, rotten bit of it. I'm sure the goats and chickens are thankful.
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