"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.
1 comment:
Wow, quite the party! Hugs, Momma
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