Custard Apple
Dates mbichi (though prob a different variety since the ones I am eating are less orange and more yellow)
"To a worm in horseradish, the whole world is horseradish." Yiddish Proverb
Friday, August 24, 2012
Yummy fruit!
Custard Apple Dates mbichi (though prob a different variety since the ones I am eating are less orange and more yellow)
notes to self
1. Do not use "black henna" paint on skin. It is actually not henna but a chemically dye used usually for dying hair or clothes and is much too powerful to be used on human skin. I've got some gory blisters on my forearms and backs of my hands and fingers. Medications and ointments don't seem to be helping. Lesson learned.
2. Dates "mbichi" are my new favorite thing! Well also dates "mbivu" AND custard apples. Okay less of a "note to self" and more just a proclamation.
"mbichi"= unripe and "mbivu"= ripe How can I explain their loveliness when mbichi? They are yellow, charming, crisp, tangy, small little bursts of refreshment. Collectively clinging to their small, yellow branch from their tree (I saw a date tree in Majengo, one of my favorite parts of town and it looked like a palm tree almost but with a shorter and sturdier trunk!) these little jewels make me smile when I take them out of the fridge. I can only eat them in twos. The texture is aaaaalmost like a very crisp, fresh apple, but the flavor is completely its own. The skin is somehow a tiny bit bitter and the almost sweet tang of the fruit inside compliments it deliciously. Alright, alright enough about dates.
Custard Apple! I must post a picture of this, there is no real explaining except that it is more unique than most fruits I have eaten and the seed to fruit ratio is extremely high. The shiny black seeds are like artwork in and of themselves and the pulpy part that sticks both around them and to the skin is almost milky, gooey and delicious. I think they are at least 70% seed and 30% edible fruit but the work of getting the fruit is so worth it.
3. It is HIGH time that I quit stressing about finding a job that is an absolute, great fit and just FIND SOMETHING. It is making me crazy not having a set path. I used to love that kind of life, but I'm 30 now and I want to have kids while I can which means I need to start earning money for them, like, yesterday. Blah. Of course I also need to pay rent and eat etc and all of those boring realities.
4. I need not let myself feel inferior for having beliefs that are different than everyone around me. This is tough, since I am already an "outsider" in so many ways. The fact that I am not a Muslim in this town only magnifies that. I am working hard not to let it make me feel alienated but at times, let's be honest, I fail. I don't blame this on anyone but myself since everyone (whom I know- and even some I don't) has been quite welcoming. Though I do feel pressure to conform and end up feeling stuck at times in between wanting to make everyone happy and really accept me, and being true to myself. This situation is, well, awful. Rock and a hard place is an understatement. Yesterday evening I was having dinner at a friend's home. The Adhan from the nearby mosque began (call to prayer) and the two girls and the mother in the house rushed to put the couch covers over their heads and pulled one off and put it on my head, too. I sort of new about this rule, but still have NO idea why women must cover their heads during the call to prayer. I felt a little like I was in one of those confusing dreams where people are doing things that don't make sense but you just convince yourself that it's natural. I asked the oldest girl thinking that I would finally get an answer, but her answer was just that they must cover their heads when the Adhan is calling. Right. Add that to the list of questions I still would like to have answered.
5. Going to the gym is ALWAYS a good idea. Unless I have broken bones or am seriously ill. It is especially the best idea when I don't feel like going. Tonight I dragged myself in there with massively itchy arms and feet hating the socks and shoes on them and I stayed over an hour. In spite of the painfully awful soft rock music station that was playing on the radio next to me. I even tried running (yes on a treadmill which i never believed in, but i'm beginning to embrace due to practicality and the fact that tons of people in public aren't staring at me pretending to know what the hell I am doing).
6. Don't judge a day by the horrible dreams I have had the night before. This seems obvious but really powerful, bad dreams have a way of affecting my mood and mindset throughout the following day.
7. On that note, try to also accept the feeling of my skin being on fire with the worst mosquito bites you can imagine (the only way i can describe my allergic blisters). I need not let the out of control of my own body feeling let my brain go reeling out of control too. This is much harder than it sounds. I have even been forgetting to breathe at times because I am so focused on how crazy itchy I am on my arms, hands and feet.
8. Check out African herbal medicine. I feel like Moringa could help me in some way but I don't know how to access it even though I have two baby trees in my apartment. I've already tried and will NOT try again Masaai medicine, but there are herbal clinics all around town and if I can get a recommendation I definitely want to go in and ask some questions and at least see how they operate and then do my own research. Ah, forever a student.
2. Dates "mbichi" are my new favorite thing! Well also dates "mbivu" AND custard apples. Okay less of a "note to self" and more just a proclamation.
"mbichi"= unripe and "mbivu"= ripe How can I explain their loveliness when mbichi? They are yellow, charming, crisp, tangy, small little bursts of refreshment. Collectively clinging to their small, yellow branch from their tree (I saw a date tree in Majengo, one of my favorite parts of town and it looked like a palm tree almost but with a shorter and sturdier trunk!) these little jewels make me smile when I take them out of the fridge. I can only eat them in twos. The texture is aaaaalmost like a very crisp, fresh apple, but the flavor is completely its own. The skin is somehow a tiny bit bitter and the almost sweet tang of the fruit inside compliments it deliciously. Alright, alright enough about dates.
Custard Apple! I must post a picture of this, there is no real explaining except that it is more unique than most fruits I have eaten and the seed to fruit ratio is extremely high. The shiny black seeds are like artwork in and of themselves and the pulpy part that sticks both around them and to the skin is almost milky, gooey and delicious. I think they are at least 70% seed and 30% edible fruit but the work of getting the fruit is so worth it.
3. It is HIGH time that I quit stressing about finding a job that is an absolute, great fit and just FIND SOMETHING. It is making me crazy not having a set path. I used to love that kind of life, but I'm 30 now and I want to have kids while I can which means I need to start earning money for them, like, yesterday. Blah. Of course I also need to pay rent and eat etc and all of those boring realities.
4. I need not let myself feel inferior for having beliefs that are different than everyone around me. This is tough, since I am already an "outsider" in so many ways. The fact that I am not a Muslim in this town only magnifies that. I am working hard not to let it make me feel alienated but at times, let's be honest, I fail. I don't blame this on anyone but myself since everyone (whom I know- and even some I don't) has been quite welcoming. Though I do feel pressure to conform and end up feeling stuck at times in between wanting to make everyone happy and really accept me, and being true to myself. This situation is, well, awful. Rock and a hard place is an understatement. Yesterday evening I was having dinner at a friend's home. The Adhan from the nearby mosque began (call to prayer) and the two girls and the mother in the house rushed to put the couch covers over their heads and pulled one off and put it on my head, too. I sort of new about this rule, but still have NO idea why women must cover their heads during the call to prayer. I felt a little like I was in one of those confusing dreams where people are doing things that don't make sense but you just convince yourself that it's natural. I asked the oldest girl thinking that I would finally get an answer, but her answer was just that they must cover their heads when the Adhan is calling. Right. Add that to the list of questions I still would like to have answered.
5. Going to the gym is ALWAYS a good idea. Unless I have broken bones or am seriously ill. It is especially the best idea when I don't feel like going. Tonight I dragged myself in there with massively itchy arms and feet hating the socks and shoes on them and I stayed over an hour. In spite of the painfully awful soft rock music station that was playing on the radio next to me. I even tried running (yes on a treadmill which i never believed in, but i'm beginning to embrace due to practicality and the fact that tons of people in public aren't staring at me pretending to know what the hell I am doing).
6. Don't judge a day by the horrible dreams I have had the night before. This seems obvious but really powerful, bad dreams have a way of affecting my mood and mindset throughout the following day.
7. On that note, try to also accept the feeling of my skin being on fire with the worst mosquito bites you can imagine (the only way i can describe my allergic blisters). I need not let the out of control of my own body feeling let my brain go reeling out of control too. This is much harder than it sounds. I have even been forgetting to breathe at times because I am so focused on how crazy itchy I am on my arms, hands and feet.
8. Check out African herbal medicine. I feel like Moringa could help me in some way but I don't know how to access it even though I have two baby trees in my apartment. I've already tried and will NOT try again Masaai medicine, but there are herbal clinics all around town and if I can get a recommendation I definitely want to go in and ask some questions and at least see how they operate and then do my own research. Ah, forever a student.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Jana
"Jana" means "yesterday" in Swahili. And what a day it was.
After feeling a little confused due to my sleep cycles and eating changing drastically during Ramadan, I met up with two of my favorite friends. They took me to one of their sister's houses where she completely adopted me like a sister. I went with the intention of only doing an allergy test for henna body painting since she is an experienced henna artist. Let's just say that after staying at Nuru's place with her, her daughters and a neighbor friend from late morning until about 7:30pm, I experienced much, much more than an allergy test!
To get to the house, we piled into a tuk tuk and arrived in a part of town called Majengo, which has so much character that I always love to visit it. Nuru came and met us outside and we walked past maybe four or five GIGANTIC pots of smoking biryani (i think) that was cooking over wood fires. I am not kidding, I could have fit inside these pots. I literally had to walk with my eyes closed because the smoke was so thick and the heat from the fires made me sure I was going to fall on the ground from the intensity.
Once in the house which was an apartment at the top of many flights of stairs, we all sat around on the "maglis" (Arab/Swahili style seating of a rug with pillows against the wall). I will say there is something more intimate about feeling grounded in the Earth while socializing. We all talked, or they talked and I pretended to be awake while trying to distinguish a few Swahili words here and there in the conversation. Eventually, my friends left and Nuru "went to town" painting up both sides of my hands and the outsides of my feet. Something about the allergy test got lost in between translation and her just being extremely enthusiastic about painting me. How could I stop her?
As soon as my friends took off, Nuru's daughters were shyly trying to talk to me, combing my hair and just smiling and watching my every move. They were adorable. I felt an instant connection with Rukiyah, her first born. After I was painted up, I realized more and more that I was sleep-deprived, seriously weak from not eating and totally not in the mood to be a gracious, social guest. I tried to politely explain this and Nuru had me rest on her bed for a bit. It was quite hilarious since the chunks of henna paint were still drying on my limbs and I awkwardly tried to find a position that would keep the paint away from her bed but at least be halfway comfortable. This proved impossible and I didn't sleep.
I had been invited for dinner and by about 2:30 or 3pm, the house was bustling with people cleaning and preparing food for breaking the fast at 6:30. Half-awake, I attempted to talk but dozed for a few minutes here and there. I felt like such a lazy, worthless guest. I didn't have the energy or clarity of mind to jump in and help much. After a few short hours I had learned so much. For starters, I love Nuru and her girls and second, I know now how to make Bajia Dengu, Mahamri, and Kaimati ya Shira. Each of them are fried in "mafuta ya uto" (vegetable/cooking oil) and are delicious. The bajia is a mix of grated potato, carrot, onion, dania (cilantro), pili pili boga (bellpepper) and split pea unga (flour) and maji (water). Mahamri is something between a bread and a donut and calls for iliki (cardamon) and is a triangular-shaped puffed up thing after coming out of the oil. Kaimati, well where do I begin? They are basically my favorite guilty pleasure here in Mombasa. We would call them donut holes and they have a lovely glaze made from sugar, water, lemon juice and rose essence. Mmmmmmmmmm.
Naturally, I forgot my camera (in my defense I had NO idea that I'd be spending the day there)- but Rukiyah borrowed an iPhone from a neighbor and got some great shots of the henna and cooking which I am frankly not sure if I will ever see! I huddled around a gas burner on the floor of the kitchen and watched Nuru's technique with frying each delicious item. My first realization as we sat together with sweat running down our foreheads was that my kitchen is missing lots of the required utensils.
Around ten minutes to 7pm we all finally gathered on the majlis and there was an incredible spread of food before us. There was tambi (a sweet, aldante vermicelli pasta mixed with delicious raisins and a bit of sugar), fagili (?) (which is what i think we call daikon, and has quite the little ZING and tasty, green leaves- and is supposed to helped digestion/get rid of gas), salad with cucumber, a savory beef stew, white rice with vegetables, PIZZA (with sausage and potato!), a dish with matoke in a rich tomato sauce with coconut, and of course the bajia, mahamri and kaimati. In additon, we enjoyed freshly made juice from mango, watermelon and lemon, and a "tea" that was really hot milk with milk powder, vanilla, ginger powder and sugar. It was delicious and I had two cups but wanted about 5.
I promise to take pictures of my lovely henna paintings very soon! I am really happy with how they turned out and will silently pray every day that I don't have a disastrous, allergic reaction. I've been told it can take 3 days to a week for a reaction to occur. So please cross your fingers for me...
I went home feeling so blessed and grateful for a day that started off in an exhausted mess and ended with me feeling like anything was possible.
After feeling a little confused due to my sleep cycles and eating changing drastically during Ramadan, I met up with two of my favorite friends. They took me to one of their sister's houses where she completely adopted me like a sister. I went with the intention of only doing an allergy test for henna body painting since she is an experienced henna artist. Let's just say that after staying at Nuru's place with her, her daughters and a neighbor friend from late morning until about 7:30pm, I experienced much, much more than an allergy test!
To get to the house, we piled into a tuk tuk and arrived in a part of town called Majengo, which has so much character that I always love to visit it. Nuru came and met us outside and we walked past maybe four or five GIGANTIC pots of smoking biryani (i think) that was cooking over wood fires. I am not kidding, I could have fit inside these pots. I literally had to walk with my eyes closed because the smoke was so thick and the heat from the fires made me sure I was going to fall on the ground from the intensity.
Once in the house which was an apartment at the top of many flights of stairs, we all sat around on the "maglis" (Arab/Swahili style seating of a rug with pillows against the wall). I will say there is something more intimate about feeling grounded in the Earth while socializing. We all talked, or they talked and I pretended to be awake while trying to distinguish a few Swahili words here and there in the conversation. Eventually, my friends left and Nuru "went to town" painting up both sides of my hands and the outsides of my feet. Something about the allergy test got lost in between translation and her just being extremely enthusiastic about painting me. How could I stop her?
As soon as my friends took off, Nuru's daughters were shyly trying to talk to me, combing my hair and just smiling and watching my every move. They were adorable. I felt an instant connection with Rukiyah, her first born. After I was painted up, I realized more and more that I was sleep-deprived, seriously weak from not eating and totally not in the mood to be a gracious, social guest. I tried to politely explain this and Nuru had me rest on her bed for a bit. It was quite hilarious since the chunks of henna paint were still drying on my limbs and I awkwardly tried to find a position that would keep the paint away from her bed but at least be halfway comfortable. This proved impossible and I didn't sleep.
I had been invited for dinner and by about 2:30 or 3pm, the house was bustling with people cleaning and preparing food for breaking the fast at 6:30. Half-awake, I attempted to talk but dozed for a few minutes here and there. I felt like such a lazy, worthless guest. I didn't have the energy or clarity of mind to jump in and help much. After a few short hours I had learned so much. For starters, I love Nuru and her girls and second, I know now how to make Bajia Dengu, Mahamri, and Kaimati ya Shira. Each of them are fried in "mafuta ya uto" (vegetable/cooking oil) and are delicious. The bajia is a mix of grated potato, carrot, onion, dania (cilantro), pili pili boga (bellpepper) and split pea unga (flour) and maji (water). Mahamri is something between a bread and a donut and calls for iliki (cardamon) and is a triangular-shaped puffed up thing after coming out of the oil. Kaimati, well where do I begin? They are basically my favorite guilty pleasure here in Mombasa. We would call them donut holes and they have a lovely glaze made from sugar, water, lemon juice and rose essence. Mmmmmmmmmm.
Naturally, I forgot my camera (in my defense I had NO idea that I'd be spending the day there)- but Rukiyah borrowed an iPhone from a neighbor and got some great shots of the henna and cooking which I am frankly not sure if I will ever see! I huddled around a gas burner on the floor of the kitchen and watched Nuru's technique with frying each delicious item. My first realization as we sat together with sweat running down our foreheads was that my kitchen is missing lots of the required utensils.
Around ten minutes to 7pm we all finally gathered on the majlis and there was an incredible spread of food before us. There was tambi (a sweet, aldante vermicelli pasta mixed with delicious raisins and a bit of sugar), fagili (?) (which is what i think we call daikon, and has quite the little ZING and tasty, green leaves- and is supposed to helped digestion/get rid of gas), salad with cucumber, a savory beef stew, white rice with vegetables, PIZZA (with sausage and potato!), a dish with matoke in a rich tomato sauce with coconut, and of course the bajia, mahamri and kaimati. In additon, we enjoyed freshly made juice from mango, watermelon and lemon, and a "tea" that was really hot milk with milk powder, vanilla, ginger powder and sugar. It was delicious and I had two cups but wanted about 5.
I promise to take pictures of my lovely henna paintings very soon! I am really happy with how they turned out and will silently pray every day that I don't have a disastrous, allergic reaction. I've been told it can take 3 days to a week for a reaction to occur. So please cross your fingers for me...
I went home feeling so blessed and grateful for a day that started off in an exhausted mess and ended with me feeling like anything was possible.
Friday, August 3, 2012
This is what a resume *should* look like, folks.
KATE LONG NAME YOU ARE NOT GOING TO TRY TO PRONOUNCE EVEN IN YOUR HEAD
Address: Place that I love deep down in my bones and where no jobs exist
expertly filled, tied and threw hundreds of water balloons with world class accuracy
agilely worked myself in and out of dog doors as a child if locked out of house
lovingly and wholeheartedly cared for no fewer than 10 incredibly unruly stuffed animals
calculated and executed exact, required running speed for catching a bus when late for school
fiercely inhaled my own body weight in cookie dough over the span of several years
tactfully and bravely fed a cucumber to a deer while camping
invented many forms of dance yet to be discovered in some parts of the world
impatiently tried to learn how to play the piano approximately 12 times
published dozens of carefully staged dog photos including flowers, swings, & oak trees
garnered the Native American name Katie Swift Wind despite being quite the average runner
Address: Place that I love deep down in my bones and where no jobs exist
Irrelevant (but in Real Life the most important) Experience
courageously climbed to a rooftop in dress clothes at the age of 6expertly filled, tied and threw hundreds of water balloons with world class accuracy
agilely worked myself in and out of dog doors as a child if locked out of house
lovingly and wholeheartedly cared for no fewer than 10 incredibly unruly stuffed animals
calculated and executed exact, required running speed for catching a bus when late for school
fiercely inhaled my own body weight in cookie dough over the span of several years
tactfully and bravely fed a cucumber to a deer while camping
invented many forms of dance yet to be discovered in some parts of the world
impatiently tried to learn how to play the piano approximately 12 times
published dozens of carefully staged dog photos including flowers, swings, & oak trees
garnered the Native American name Katie Swift Wind despite being quite the average runner
Education
22+ years of being taught how to be like everyone else, why you should be like everyone else, and who exactly within everyone else really is or is not your friend
Specialized Training
10 extremely fulfilling and life-enriching experiences which you naturally do not care at all about, though awarded me with lovely certificates upon completion
Additional Qualities
self-deprecation
sarcasm
questioning authority at all times
speaking my mind whether or not it is helpful to the current situation
refusing to compromise my beliefs
99% success rate in catching thrown grapes in my mouth from overhead
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