Before Ramadan I wanted to cook a tobab, Wolof word for white person, meal for my family. I chose spaghetti. A classic, tasty and above all easy meal to prepare over a fire or gas. I went to the market in the morning to wrangle up the supplies. Having never cooked a meal for a family of 15 before I had no idea the quantities of supplies to get. I told my market lady friend that I was making dinner and the next thing I know she was sending children to fetch me cloves of garlic, onions and delicious MSG seasoning cubes. Shopping for kilos of onions and sacks of meat made easy!
When I returned to Barkedji I brought a soccer ball for my brother. I gave it to him with the stipulation that he had to "pay me" for it by helping me cook dinner for the family. My reasoning is because everyday I watch the girls of Senegal cook, clean, study, and try to squeeze in time to be a kid; all while the boys lay around playing caps. By no means do I aim to change the culture, but I do and will continue to do things to show how amazing the females of Senegal are.
Things were going wonderfully. Myself and 5 of my siblings (three of whom are boys) were chopping onions. I was feeling pretty proud of my cross-gender sensitization work. Then my uncle scolded the boys saying "Boys don't chop onions. Go watch the soccer game." Oh...Take two.
The end product was no where near Mike Albright's slow roasted, savory spaghetti, but sitting around the bowl with my family giggling as we awkwardly slop spaghetti around with our hands, made the experience rich delicious.
A burrito bowl is next on the menu.
BTW my camera is broken, so I apologize for the lack of visual aid. I'll do my best to paint pictures with my words.
Were you with me when I tried to make spaghetti for my host fam in Thailand? I believe you were. Do you remember that the only noodles that we could find were hollow. Impossible slurping!
ReplyDeleteI miss you like whoa. Pretty proud/jealous of your adventures.