Boiled and salted field mice, skewered.
"Crunchy and delicious."
Rainy season: termites
Caught, drowned, dewinged, fried in oil, salted.
"Tastes like popcorn."
Showing posts with label in brief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label in brief. Show all posts
Saturday, July 4, 2009
WIHTWH: seasonal delicacies
Dry season: mice on a stick
Boiled and salted field mice, skewered.
"Crunchy and delicious."
Rainy season: termites
Caught, drowned, dewinged, fried in oil, salted.
"Tastes like popcorn."
Boiled and salted field mice, skewered.
"Crunchy and delicious."
Rainy season: termites
Caught, drowned, dewinged, fried in oil, salted.
"Tastes like popcorn."
Monday, June 15, 2009
Let the countdown begin!
Just got back from a week in Zanzibar, our last big huzzah before we leave this part of the world. Yep, that's an announcement folks. Four more weeks left in the warm heart of Africa.*
But Zanzibar. I'll skip the superlatives, but it's a pretty darn cool place. A historic nexus of trade, both of spices and slaves, the culture is this blend of African, Indian, and Arab flavours. It's very different from inland Malawi. It's also out in the blueblueblue Indian ocean, so every meal features some kind of fish (hopefully).
We took two flights to get to the island.
The Stone Town market has a big fruit section (we tasted durani, the fruit) (BARF!@#$!--looks like a fat white waterlogged sausage, feels thick and greasy like congealed cheese sauce, tastes like bad meat that's been dipped in chemicals) and a huge seafood section.
It was really hot. We stopped for some fresh sugarcane juice. First a length of cane is roughly macerated. Then half a lime and a stub of ginger are tucked into it, and they're all pressed together. The juice is swirled with some ice, strained in a hand-held sieve, and sipped through a straw. So yum. Finn enjoyed his as you can see, but ever wary of the big D (truly the fastest way to spoil a beach vacation dependent upon swim diapers), Andy limited our refreshment to a few sips.
Stone Town was built by Omani Sultans who occupied and ruled Zanzibar till the 1940s or so.
Stone Town is also famous for it's carved doors, an Indian thing. They are incredibly ornate with flowers and designs. They have a solid post in the middle, and a "male" side and "female" side, named because of the direction the door swings open. Many of them have brass horn type things sticking out of them, decorative reminders of back home in India where they functionally decorated the doors by discouraging elephants from beating the doors in. Some of them have an eerie reminder of what we often forget: who did the grunt work for most of the world's wonders. A border of carved chain was a status symbol to show the Joneses that within these walls dwells a slave-owner.
Andy, mango loveslave, took every opportunity to pursue his mangoQuest. Because mangos are always in season on Zanzibar. Big, juicy, non-fibery ones. (Scout and I fell in love with fresh lychees, also in season. We went on a "shoki shoki" quest of our own into a little fishing village later on in our stay.)
One of the big things to do on Zanzibar is go on a spice tour (a highlight for me). Although they no longer grow for export (except cloves), we smelled and picked and tasted and saw growing: pepper berries, vanilla beans, clove, cardamom, ginger, turmeric, lemongrass, coconut, ylang-ylang, cinnamon, nutmeg, henna...
and lipstick plant.
We also tasted fresh coconut, jackfruit, breadfruit, and starfruit.
Then we went to a fancyshmancy resort on the tip of the island and played in the ocean for a few days.
We took hikes at low tide.
We inspected hermit crabs on the beach at night.
We went for a sunset cruise in a quasi-traditional dhow.
And didn't get a bit of sunburn!
*And so, to make sure we drink up every last drop of Malawi while our cup runneth over, look for daily postings of Why I Heart the Warm Heart. Same time, same place, starting tomorrow.
But Zanzibar. I'll skip the superlatives, but it's a pretty darn cool place. A historic nexus of trade, both of spices and slaves, the culture is this blend of African, Indian, and Arab flavours. It's very different from inland Malawi. It's also out in the blueblueblue Indian ocean, so every meal features some kind of fish (hopefully).
We took two flights to get to the island.
The Stone Town market has a big fruit section (we tasted durani, the fruit) (BARF!@#$!--looks like a fat white waterlogged sausage, feels thick and greasy like congealed cheese sauce, tastes like bad meat that's been dipped in chemicals) and a huge seafood section.
It was really hot. We stopped for some fresh sugarcane juice. First a length of cane is roughly macerated. Then half a lime and a stub of ginger are tucked into it, and they're all pressed together. The juice is swirled with some ice, strained in a hand-held sieve, and sipped through a straw. So yum. Finn enjoyed his as you can see, but ever wary of the big D (truly the fastest way to spoil a beach vacation dependent upon swim diapers), Andy limited our refreshment to a few sips.
Stone Town was built by Omani Sultans who occupied and ruled Zanzibar till the 1940s or so.
Stone Town is also famous for it's carved doors, an Indian thing. They are incredibly ornate with flowers and designs. They have a solid post in the middle, and a "male" side and "female" side, named because of the direction the door swings open. Many of them have brass horn type things sticking out of them, decorative reminders of back home in India where they functionally decorated the doors by discouraging elephants from beating the doors in. Some of them have an eerie reminder of what we often forget: who did the grunt work for most of the world's wonders. A border of carved chain was a status symbol to show the Joneses that within these walls dwells a slave-owner.
Andy, mango loveslave, took every opportunity to pursue his mangoQuest. Because mangos are always in season on Zanzibar. Big, juicy, non-fibery ones. (Scout and I fell in love with fresh lychees, also in season. We went on a "shoki shoki" quest of our own into a little fishing village later on in our stay.)
One of the big things to do on Zanzibar is go on a spice tour (a highlight for me). Although they no longer grow for export (except cloves), we smelled and picked and tasted and saw growing: pepper berries, vanilla beans, clove, cardamom, ginger, turmeric, lemongrass, coconut, ylang-ylang, cinnamon, nutmeg, henna...
and lipstick plant.
We also tasted fresh coconut, jackfruit, breadfruit, and starfruit.
Then we went to a fancyshmancy resort on the tip of the island and played in the ocean for a few days.
We took hikes at low tide.
We inspected hermit crabs on the beach at night.
We went for a sunset cruise in a quasi-traditional dhow.
And didn't get a bit of sunburn!
*And so, to make sure we drink up every last drop of Malawi while our cup runneth over, look for daily postings of Why I Heart the Warm Heart. Same time, same place, starting tomorrow.
Friday, March 6, 2009
"Willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light"
Sunday, February 22, 2009
New Unders
(A years-later edit: After looking over the stats of this blog for the first time in two years, I got freaked out by how many people are finding it looking for the words I just changed.)
Our friend Shira brought Scout 9 pairs of brand-new unders. What is a girl to do with so many unders? Why not wear them all at once?
Scout can tell you why not. That many unders are hard to take off when the moment comes. And then you have 9 pairs of brand-new-soiled unders.
(Unwilling to wait to wear them until laundry was done on the family schedule, Scout took her unders to the bathub, scrubbed and wrung them out herself, then pinned them to the line to dry. Then put them all on again while still damp. Pretty new unders! Who doesn't love 'em?)
Our friend Shira brought Scout 9 pairs of brand-new unders. What is a girl to do with so many unders? Why not wear them all at once?
Scout can tell you why not. That many unders are hard to take off when the moment comes. And then you have 9 pairs of brand-new-soiled unders.
(Unwilling to wait to wear them until laundry was done on the family schedule, Scout took her unders to the bathub, scrubbed and wrung them out herself, then pinned them to the line to dry. Then put them all on again while still damp. Pretty new unders! Who doesn't love 'em?)
A Trip to the Village
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Morning Suprise
Yesterday, I met a 6 week old infant who comes from a home with a universal story. At four months into the pregnancy, the father left the mother and four other children.
Now the mom has nothing, including no breast milk and no way to get formula. (A month's supply of formula is about $50. The average Malawian makes much less.)
I didn't notice, but apparently the baby also had no clothes. She was wrapped only in a chintenje, best described as a colorful utility blanket. First thing this morning, I caught our translators organizing a baby shower for the mom complete with a collection of their own children's clothes. Simply wonderful.
Now the mom has nothing, including no breast milk and no way to get formula. (A month's supply of formula is about $50. The average Malawian makes much less.)
I didn't notice, but apparently the baby also had no clothes. She was wrapped only in a chintenje, best described as a colorful utility blanket. First thing this morning, I caught our translators organizing a baby shower for the mom complete with a collection of their own children's clothes. Simply wonderful.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Hey, it's you again!
Just wanted to let you know we've missed you, and even though there's something about our Google access here that very rarely lets us respond to your comments (we can read them--when we can access email--because we forward them to our email), we sure love reading them. FYI, we're working with our internet company on the Google thing. I mean, how can you live without Google?
Happy New Year!
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Home is where the Hilux is
Truly, Lilongwe took a step closer to becoming our home when we finally found a car to buy. Bravo to Andy who also learned to drive stick, driving on the left, in Africa traffic!
We live in a large compound surrounded by brick walls and razor wire. The yard is green (because we water like crazy) and filled with fruit trees--mango, papaya, avocado, lemon, orange.
Scout has turned some developmental corner and is now a kid who likes to play with other kids. She spends every moment he's willing with Precious, who lives on our compound too.
We sleep under bed nets so we don't get malaria while we sleep.
Michael, one of our guards, told me tonight that one of the best things about going to church is speaking in tongues. Here he is at our gate.
We live in one of the nicest neighbourhoods in Lilongwe, just down the street from the vice president's compound. When the rains start in a few weeks, there will be leaves on these trees.
Our dining room
and the compound within our compound, where Precious lives with his parents, Mohammad and Matilda (known as Potato for pronounciation reasons in our houshold). Mohammad is our housekeeper, and Potato watches Scout a couple hours a week.
Because they cook on an open fire (and for lots of other reasons I'll tell you about at length in future posts) we've made the rule that Scout can't just go and hang out at Precious' house. But if we can't find her, that's where we first look.
We live in a large compound surrounded by brick walls and razor wire. The yard is green (because we water like crazy) and filled with fruit trees--mango, papaya, avocado, lemon, orange.
Scout has turned some developmental corner and is now a kid who likes to play with other kids. She spends every moment he's willing with Precious, who lives on our compound too.
We sleep under bed nets so we don't get malaria while we sleep.
Michael, one of our guards, told me tonight that one of the best things about going to church is speaking in tongues. Here he is at our gate.
We live in one of the nicest neighbourhoods in Lilongwe, just down the street from the vice president's compound. When the rains start in a few weeks, there will be leaves on these trees.
Our dining room
and the compound within our compound, where Precious lives with his parents, Mohammad and Matilda (known as Potato for pronounciation reasons in our houshold). Mohammad is our housekeeper, and Potato watches Scout a couple hours a week.
Because they cook on an open fire (and for lots of other reasons I'll tell you about at length in future posts) we've made the rule that Scout can't just go and hang out at Precious' house. But if we can't find her, that's where we first look.
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