obca87 (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} obca87) wrote,@ 2008-06-07 22:33:00 |
|
A nice day
The electricity had been out since 4pm Friday. Joyous. There is something to be said about the change in the atmosphere that comes from not having electricity. The hum of the generators, the utter darkness that arrives, especially on a night like last night, when the moon is barely visible. There's definitely a difference between full moon-ish nights with power outages and no moon-ish nights with power outages.
Anyway, I went to bed early Friday, woke up and taught my night school class. The class ended at 9:30, and inevitably I ended up arriving at home at 11. Even now it kinda amazes me how a 10 minute trip by foot can take over an hour, with stopping to talk to friends, joke with students, say hi to strangers, go to the store (and talk with friends, neighbors, strangers there too).
Right as I was coming up to my gate, I see 5 of my little neighbors (the elementary and preschool aged crowd) walking towards me. They ask if they can come in, and I let them. Their excuse is that they want to draw, but really they just want to hang out, look through all my stuff, play in the bathroom (lord only knows what they do in there but they go in, sometimes in pairs, sometimes for like 1/2 an hour, probably just playing with the water) As they enter, my stomach growls and I'm reminded that I'm hungry. Unwilling to settle for just a cracker, covertly eaten in the kitchen while the kids play in the living room, I tell them that I'm going to make lunch and ask if they want some rice. Naturally I invite them to help (I'm a big believer in kids cooking safely in the kitchen) , and two whole heartedly agree to help. In fact, one of them ends up being the head chef, telling us all what to do (in a nice way) We bond over caldo de galinha (chicken bullion cubs): he takes one wrapped in gold tinfoil out of a package and I tell him to use the silver ones as I like the taste of them more. He agrees and we just share a moment. (Parenthetically, it's weird: never before Peace Corps would I have used chicken bullion, heck I remember during my summer in Britain, it really freaked me out when I couldn't find chicken broth in a can. Now not only do I use it to make broth, but almost always in rice and sometimes in other things too) We settle on a menu: ie whatever I have in the house, which ends up being grilled hamburger patties, seasoned rice, and french fries. As we start cooking, kids are sent to borrow a green pepper, and some tomato paste (I sent a 4 year old to her mom's house with a tablespoon..I just love the fact that I feel comfortable doing this (and the fact that I'm not replacing the green pepper, because the family would look at me crazily if I did) They are sent to buy potatoes (for the fries). The ones that aren't in the kitchen cooking and cleaning (yes cleaning, the 4 year old intermittently did the dishes) are playing in the main room. The front doors open and every so often I check in on them.
I had a 3 year old putting his hands through the rice to rinse it, and he later peeled a potato (with my potato peeler, not with a knife like they do here). During both those things, others tried to do it faster, and I told them not to. The three year old just turned 3 last week, and has entered this phase where he's trying to be super independent. He likes feeding himself (he ate a ton of my cachupa when I made it a couple weeks ago: the ultimate compliment in my head) and copies the big kids whenever they play or with whatever they do. It's super cute. Anyway, I was glad to play my part in his independence movement.
After probably an hour of cooking (and running after kids and setting up the living room as a table) it was time to eat. While cooking I didn't get very stressed, but while serving the kids, I started to feel kinda like the mom with a minivan full of kids who does everything with an almost military like precision: go to the stairs and put rice on a plate (it'd been cooling there while the 2 burners were used to make other things). Cut the burgers in half and plate them. Put some salted fresh french fries on a plate. Check on the Chef to see if the second batch of fries is done. Grab a couple spoons and take to the kids, repeat. Unfortunately, I am not that skilled. I end up making plates for kids and running them to the living room as they are ready. Another neighbor comes over and I clean some spoons (because I was running out) and fix him a plate. Finally as I'm getting my plate ready, I hear one of the kids yell at me that he wants more french fries. I tell him that I haven't eaten yet, and he'll get more fries when I'm done (it was said in a firm, but not mean tone, but I think he got the idea: I'm pretty easy to read). Finally I sit down and eat and have to admit that it's not half bad. Besides the round plastic table which is pulled up near the sofa (there aren't enough chairs) I've put a table cloth on the ironing board and pulled that up to the sofa as well. The four year old girl tells me to sit there with her, and as I do, she runs to the kitchen and exchanges her spoon for a fork (so she could be like me) It's these little scenes of kindness, of cuteness that warm my heart and that I know I'm going to miss.
The bigger kids and soon the 3 year old is over too, pouring olive oil on his rice, just like the 4 year old does. Earlier he was trying to suck mayonnaise out of the tube, which sounds gross but was actually cute. After a couple near spills, they finish.
Speaking of which, ketchup and mayonnaise on fries aren't just for Canadians, but are for everyone. The same with ketchup on rice: it's an oddly good combination.
Two of my old students who are participating in the girls camp came over to ask me a couple questions. Since there was food, they were invited to stay, and eat, which they did. They were a bit suspicious of the food: they've had my cooking before and it's just been too foreign for them. I assured them that Cape Verdeans had made it:)
After they left the 4 year old was still here: she helped do the dishes and clean up. A well behaved child.
It's weird, had I planned this whole production, I would have made more. If this would have been a pre-planned lunch, a salad would have been made, and probably a pizza and a cake too. There'd be like 2 hamburgers for each kid and buns as well. As it is, we're using the remains of my now completely defrosted fridge. An onion, a single sausage, half a carrot, 6 1/2 hamburger patties, an old can of ervilliha (green beans, but not the type you make casserole with but the ones that are round and usually found with carrots), rice, half a head of garlic, etc.
As a post script, as I was writing this, two of the neighbor kids came over. They wanted to borrow a plastic ball that I'd bought for 50 escudos (less than a dollar): it is pink, and bouncy and looks like a plastic soccer ball. While they were over, I started making dinner, pasta with tomato sauce. It was ready right as they were leaving. The more adventurous one asked to try some, which he surprisingly liked (red sauce on pasta isn't big here) A few minutes later, three of them showed up, to try some. They actually liked it (people here tend not to eat things that they don't like, especially the kids). They ended up staying over for 45 minutes and watching some Nickelodeon cartoon that I'd brought back with me from the States.
The electricity had been out since 4pm Friday. Joyous. There is something to be said about the change in the atmosphere that comes from not having electricity. The hum of the generators, the utter darkness that arrives, especially on a night like last night, when the moon is barely visible. There's definitely a difference between full moon-ish nights with power outages and no moon-ish nights with power outages.
Anyway, I went to bed early Friday, woke up and taught my night school class. The class ended at 9:30, and inevitably I ended up arriving at home at 11. Even now it kinda amazes me how a 10 minute trip by foot can take over an hour, with stopping to talk to friends, joke with students, say hi to strangers, go to the store (and talk with friends, neighbors, strangers there too).
Right as I was coming up to my gate, I see 5 of my little neighbors (the elementary and preschool aged crowd) walking towards me. They ask if they can come in, and I let them. Their excuse is that they want to draw, but really they just want to hang out, look through all my stuff, play in the bathroom (lord only knows what they do in there but they go in, sometimes in pairs, sometimes for like 1/2 an hour, probably just playing with the water) As they enter, my stomach growls and I'm reminded that I'm hungry. Unwilling to settle for just a cracker, covertly eaten in the kitchen while the kids play in the living room, I tell them that I'm going to make lunch and ask if they want some rice. Naturally I invite them to help (I'm a big believer in kids cooking safely in the kitchen) , and two whole heartedly agree to help. In fact, one of them ends up being the head chef, telling us all what to do (in a nice way) We bond over caldo de galinha (chicken bullion cubs): he takes one wrapped in gold tinfoil out of a package and I tell him to use the silver ones as I like the taste of them more. He agrees and we just share a moment. (Parenthetically, it's weird: never before Peace Corps would I have used chicken bullion, heck I remember during my summer in Britain, it really freaked me out when I couldn't find chicken broth in a can. Now not only do I use it to make broth, but almost always in rice and sometimes in other things too) We settle on a menu: ie whatever I have in the house, which ends up being grilled hamburger patties, seasoned rice, and french fries. As we start cooking, kids are sent to borrow a green pepper, and some tomato paste (I sent a 4 year old to her mom's house with a tablespoon..I just love the fact that I feel comfortable doing this (and the fact that I'm not replacing the green pepper, because the family would look at me crazily if I did) They are sent to buy potatoes (for the fries). The ones that aren't in the kitchen cooking and cleaning (yes cleaning, the 4 year old intermittently did the dishes) are playing in the main room. The front doors open and every so often I check in on them.
I had a 3 year old putting his hands through the rice to rinse it, and he later peeled a potato (with my potato peeler, not with a knife like they do here). During both those things, others tried to do it faster, and I told them not to. The three year old just turned 3 last week, and has entered this phase where he's trying to be super independent. He likes feeding himself (he ate a ton of my cachupa when I made it a couple weeks ago: the ultimate compliment in my head) and copies the big kids whenever they play or with whatever they do. It's super cute. Anyway, I was glad to play my part in his independence movement.
After probably an hour of cooking (and running after kids and setting up the living room as a table) it was time to eat. While cooking I didn't get very stressed, but while serving the kids, I started to feel kinda like the mom with a minivan full of kids who does everything with an almost military like precision: go to the stairs and put rice on a plate (it'd been cooling there while the 2 burners were used to make other things). Cut the burgers in half and plate them. Put some salted fresh french fries on a plate. Check on the Chef to see if the second batch of fries is done. Grab a couple spoons and take to the kids, repeat. Unfortunately, I am not that skilled. I end up making plates for kids and running them to the living room as they are ready. Another neighbor comes over and I clean some spoons (because I was running out) and fix him a plate. Finally as I'm getting my plate ready, I hear one of the kids yell at me that he wants more french fries. I tell him that I haven't eaten yet, and he'll get more fries when I'm done (it was said in a firm, but not mean tone, but I think he got the idea: I'm pretty easy to read). Finally I sit down and eat and have to admit that it's not half bad. Besides the round plastic table which is pulled up near the sofa (there aren't enough chairs) I've put a table cloth on the ironing board and pulled that up to the sofa as well. The four year old girl tells me to sit there with her, and as I do, she runs to the kitchen and exchanges her spoon for a fork (so she could be like me) It's these little scenes of kindness, of cuteness that warm my heart and that I know I'm going to miss.
The bigger kids and soon the 3 year old is over too, pouring olive oil on his rice, just like the 4 year old does. Earlier he was trying to suck mayonnaise out of the tube, which sounds gross but was actually cute. After a couple near spills, they finish.
Speaking of which, ketchup and mayonnaise on fries aren't just for Canadians, but are for everyone. The same with ketchup on rice: it's an oddly good combination.
Two of my old students who are participating in the girls camp came over to ask me a couple questions. Since there was food, they were invited to stay, and eat, which they did. They were a bit suspicious of the food: they've had my cooking before and it's just been too foreign for them. I assured them that Cape Verdeans had made it:)
After they left the 4 year old was still here: she helped do the dishes and clean up. A well behaved child.
It's weird, had I planned this whole production, I would have made more. If this would have been a pre-planned lunch, a salad would have been made, and probably a pizza and a cake too. There'd be like 2 hamburgers for each kid and buns as well. As it is, we're using the remains of my now completely defrosted fridge. An onion, a single sausage, half a carrot, 6 1/2 hamburger patties, an old can of ervilliha (green beans, but not the type you make casserole with but the ones that are round and usually found with carrots), rice, half a head of garlic, etc.
As a post script, as I was writing this, two of the neighbor kids came over. They wanted to borrow a plastic ball that I'd bought for 50 escudos (less than a dollar): it is pink, and bouncy and looks like a plastic soccer ball. While they were over, I started making dinner, pasta with tomato sauce. It was ready right as they were leaving. The more adventurous one asked to try some, which he surprisingly liked (red sauce on pasta isn't big here) A few minutes later, three of them showed up, to try some. They actually liked it (people here tend not to eat things that they don't like, especially the kids). They ended up staying over for 45 minutes and watching some Nickelodeon cartoon that I'd brought back with me from the States.
