The Food

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Until Victoria arrived, Alice cooked dinner every night. I’m not sure this was planned, but Alice is finishing up Form IV (high school) and has exams this month. If Victoria isn’t cooking, then Toko/Alice/Isaac are, which affords Alice the opportunity to relax following a full day of studying for exams that will determine whether she is one of the lucky few who can go to university.
The staple food of Malawi is nsima (pronounced see-ma) – it’s a blend of water and cornmeal/corn flour (depending on whether I’m eating it at work or at home) that looks a lot like big clumps of grits or cream of wheat. You’re served a piece the length of my hand, but much thicker. Contrary to what the guidebook says, it tastes fine. Being the staple food, however, it’s served with both lunch and dinner. When we’re lucky, one of those meals will contain rice instead of nsima. (The office assistant, Mr. Branson, cooks lunch for everyone in the office for what amounts to a personal contribution of roughly $6.63 USD per month.) For the nsima meals, you eat with your hand. Both at the office and at home, everyone seems to find it strange that I eat with my left hand. I think it makes perfect sense – keep your right/dominant hand clean in case you need to open a water bottle or shake someone’s hand. Whatever – I like to appear mysterious every now and then.
Along with rice or nsima, there is usually a meat and some sort of green. Occasionally there will be a different vegetable. Last night we had nsima, peas, and a fish stew that I did not try. I’m adventurous, but my drive to try new things ends at the point when I am faced with the prospect of chewing a tiny, complete (head, tail, everything) fish that was dried before it was cooked. What can I say – I’m not into eyeballs and little fish brains. Maybe I’ll try it another time, but I simply wasn’t feeling it last night.
As you may have gathered, I’m really glad I slowly reintegrated meat before I left. Dave, who has been a vegetarian for 8 years, did not, and I think it caught up to him yesterday. It’s not like you sit down to eat a big piece of steak or half a chicken here, so I’m not surprised that it took him a week to feel the creeping effects. Knock on wood, nothing has bothered my stomach, but I have had flashbacks to why I wanted to be a vegetarian in the first place.
The year was 1988 (or somewhere around there). My grandmother was staying with us and had cooked steak or some other type of beef. In her household, we had to finish our plate before we could be excused from the table. I would not leave that table for what felt like an eternity. Toward the end of my meal, I had the misfortune of biting into a big piece of fat. As you carnivores know, once you get a piece of lard in your mouth, you’re doomed! It takes forever to chew, it’s disgusting as you do, and after minutes of chewing, the last thing you want to do is swallow it and allow that heinous product enter your intestines where it will undoubtedly do to your digestive system what it did to your teeth, gums, and jaw.
Fast forward to last week, when I was once again confronted by such a vicious piece of cow. Cringing at the prospect of swallowing it, I quietly asked Thethani if it would be rude if I didn’t eat the block of fat resting on top of my rice. Fortunately, she not only said it was fine to leave it, but she said she doesn’t like those pieces either. Whew!
Much as I love dessert, it’s not something I have all the time at home. But I now realize that most nights, I would have a small piece of dark chocolate or a couple chocolate chips or something. Here, no dessert, and we’re all feeling it. I see a chocolate bar in my near future. I wonder if we can find brownie mix at the grocery store…

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