Last weekend our church here in Pèdè held a youth rally – an event hosted each year by one of ten churches in the region. I wasn't able to go to the rally on the Saturday, as both boys were under the weather, so Marc went down on his own. But on the Friday the women of our church were preparing the food – for an estimated 100-200 people – and I went down to watch them. It was so different from the cooking I know that the only helpful thing I was able to do was to get the cellophane wrapping off a box of stock cubes which was giving them difficulty!
It was good to be there – so often I am put off going into the village by not knowing if anyone will be around, and this time I knew exactly where I would find people I know! I can't say I understood all that much of the conversation – which in a group of people who know each other extremely well is not that surprising – but I got the gist of things. I did manage to make a joke, at one point, and despite that being a risky thing to do when you're a language learner, it did appear to be understood and appreciated! I only understood on about the fifth telling when someone joked to me that if I ate their spicy sauce my skin would turn black like theirs!
It was interesting to see and have explained to me what they were doing. They were using enormous cooking pots over their three-stone cooking fires, using wood for fuel. When I was there they were making “akassa” - a starchy food made with fermented corn spooned into individual bags while it was hot (hygienic if not very environmentally friendly!). They were also making soy cheese, made with soya and the water taken from the fermented corn – when it becomes solid it is fried in oil. I tasted some of the akassa with the sauce they'd made (with beans and chilli peppers) – it was very good … and my skin isn't noticeably darker yet!
It was good to be there – so often I am put off going into the village by not knowing if anyone will be around, and this time I knew exactly where I would find people I know! I can't say I understood all that much of the conversation – which in a group of people who know each other extremely well is not that surprising – but I got the gist of things. I did manage to make a joke, at one point, and despite that being a risky thing to do when you're a language learner, it did appear to be understood and appreciated! I only understood on about the fifth telling when someone joked to me that if I ate their spicy sauce my skin would turn black like theirs!
It was interesting to see and have explained to me what they were doing. They were using enormous cooking pots over their three-stone cooking fires, using wood for fuel. When I was there they were making “akassa” - a starchy food made with fermented corn spooned into individual bags while it was hot (hygienic if not very environmentally friendly!). They were also making soy cheese, made with soya and the water taken from the fermented corn – when it becomes solid it is fried in oil. I tasted some of the akassa with the sauce they'd made (with beans and chilli peppers) – it was very good … and my skin isn't noticeably darker yet!
While it was a positive experience, it did bring back to me just how different my cultural background is to everyone here. They all knew what they were doing – they've grown up helping their mums do it – and for me it was all new. I already knew that I'll always be an outsider here, even though I am accepted and very welcome, but it really made me feel the fact that I am an oddity and that that won't change. It made me a bit sad, but that's just the way it is. It helped, the next morning, to be reminded in my Bible notes that as Christians we are all on a “journey of sacrifice”. And serving God here means sacrificing part of our identity and status. It is worth it!
1 comment:
What a blessing to read this Hil. I could really identify with bits from my time in Namibia and Tanzania.
Ju
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