September 29, 2003

Despite these lowly accommodations, the food has been outstanding. Mama made chapati the first night, a pancake-like bread used for scooping food. It's really good. I also like ugali, which is a heavy sort of paste the consistency of Play-Dough, served usually with spinach or kale.

October 8 , 2003

I’m getting really tired of the food here. This is the most common complaint among volunteers. It turns out there are only about 5 dishes. My mama tries to add variety. Tonight, she mixed egg, onion, and tomato, and put it on top of spaghetti. It was pretty good, actually. On the side was ugali and sukuma wiki (kales, literally means push the week because it’s all poor people can afford while waiting for pay). I’ll be happy if I never eat ugali again after I leave here.

October 11, 2003

We ate at the Chinese restaurant today! Fried dumplings! Vegetable lo mein! Chicken with cashews! This is not something we'll be able to afford often. It cost me 500 shillings, which is 1/4 of my weekly allowance. But tonight I think we're eating the head of a goat, so I needed it.

October 20, 2003

Tonight, mama killed a chicken for the holiday. I was lucky enough to be in my room when she slaughtered it. It was almost free of feathers when I entered the kitchen. Reluctantly, I watched her slice it open and cut it up. I watched her take out the stomach, liver, heart, and other internal organs. If I hadn't been worried about offending her, I might have become a vegetarian on the spot. They cooked and ate most of the parts, and I realized how little of the chicken Americans actually eat. For some reason, Mama adds beef boullion to everything we eat - including the chicken!

November 17, 2003

I learned an interesting fact last week which gave me a new respect for ugali. It turns out that if you take day-old ugali, roll it out, and fry it, you get Frito's. I haven't seen this myself, but I plan on trying it.

January 23, 2004

I know that some of you who are familiar with my prowess in the kitchen are wondering, err, fretting over, what exactly I'm eating now that I'm on my own. Believe it or not, I seem to be doing just fine with this cooking thing. My choice of ingredients is definitely limited. There's a decent variety of vegetables, although nothing really that good for you. I mainly stick to tomatoes, onions, and green peppers. Occasionally I get crazy and buy potatoes or carrots. For fruit, I pretty much stick to ndizi (bananas), with a rare mango or orange thrown in. Oranges are green here, by the way.

I've gotten a lot of use out of the Kenyan cookbook Peace Corps provides. Just a few things I've tried, with varying degrees of success: Veggie Burgers, Fajitas, Spanish Omelettes, Stirfry, and a delicious Mushroom Roast which I considered to be quite ingenious considering you can't buy mushrooms here. I am the queen of substitutions! This is not to mention all the baking. I didn't think this would even be possible without an oven, but it's easy. Take a big sufuria (pot) with lid. Put one metal bowl upside down inside to serve as a spacer. Put what you're baking on top of that. Cover and place on the gas stove. Voila! I've made sugar cookies, banana bread, soft pretzels, buttermilk biscuits, and butterscotch brownies.

February 2, 2004

Saturday, we went for a shopping spree in town. There is one store that sells frozen ground beef, so we decided to make tacos. (All other meat around here is sold to you live or very nearly.) Allison made guacamole, and I really think it’s the best meal I’ve had in Kenya so far.

Sunday was the first sunny day I’ve had off in weeks, so I was anxious to give my solar cooker a workout. I threw together a carrot cake before Allison and I walked into town and put it out to bake. So, of course, it started storming about 45 minutes later. Even though it got sunny again, my cake was soup, and I had to bake it on the gas stove.

May 4, 2004

Speaking of hotelis, here’s an oldie but a goodie. Back around Christmas, I decided to try the cafe right near my house. It’s a nice little place, intended for passing tourists, but no one ever stops there. We sat down and I asked for a menu. The manager looked very confused, but told me to wait. Several minutes later, he came back with a sheet of paper, hand written, listing several items. He handed it to me, let me look it over for a few seconds, then said, “But today we have only beef.”

May 19, 2005

Ledama invited the whole staff and all of the students to his house for dinner. It was traditional Kenyan food – rice, roast goat, and irio (a mix of potatoes and other vegetables mashed together). There were also two new items on the menu. The first was matumbo. It looked fairly appetizing, kind of like mushrooms, only green with some hairy sprouts. Actually, it’s intestines. Why are they green???! Erik was a true champ, popped some into his mouth and tried chewing it for several minutes until he finally gave in and swallowed it whole. I didn’t want to be outdone, so I tried to convince myself it was pasta and popped it into my mouth – then immediately spit it back out. I didn’t have to chew to know how utterly disgusting it was, and I’m pretty sure I would have vomited if I’d even tried to swallow it.

Ledama brought the second item out himself and spooned it onto each person’s plate. He wouldn’t tell us what it was except to say it was a traditional Maasai food. It was obviously some kind of meat and looked like a safer bet than the intestines, so I tried it. The flavor wasn’t bad, but the texture was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It stuck to the roof of my mouth and wouldn’t come off. Just as Jennifer was about to try it, she saw my expression as I said, “There just isn’t enough water in the world to make this taste go away.” It turned out to be a mixture of meat and clotted blood, mainly the latter I think. Well, now I’ve tried it. I don’t have to do that again!

August 4, 2005

I think the pizzas turned out fantastic. I liked them anyway. I made three, and even added some precious pepperoni sent from home to the last one. The students had made their own meal too, assuming that they wouldn’t really like the pizza. They all said they loved it, but only a few had more than one slice. Toward the end, I was giving it to anyone who wanted it. The rescued girls tried some and smiled and gave me a thumbs up. The guard was also very curious. He came in and looked at the tomato sauce and said, “Is that blood?” I suppose if it had been, he would have chowed down. But as it was, I couldn’t get him to taste it. Still, I think we finished it all. Either that, or the girls managed to toss it without me seeing.