Juice Bet 3 March 2016

We are going to talk about something that volunteers have to monitor conistently, but talk about constantly. Something that takes up way too much of our time creating and craving. It infiltrates our waking and sleeping moments. And when something big, like a juice house, comes to town, we spend birr telling everyone who likes it should make local…no national news channels. It causes us to haunt post office for care packages and rejoice when a friend shares. What is this topic? FOOD.

What did you eat for your last meal? What about this week? What about this year (2016 or school year or past 365 days)? My guess is that you’ve indulged in such a variety of food as spacious as Antartica so that you can’t remember all of it. Let me try to jog your memory…

You could have eaten various fresh, you-pick berries in the summer, but they’re always in the frozen section at Wal-Mart if you miss them. There may have been a sale on lean ground beef, but when was that in relationship to the cheaper chicken breasts, pork chops, ribs, or even canned tuna? Cucumbers, green beans, bell peppers, lettuce, spinach, Brussels sprouts, and broccoli are always handy to keep something green nearby, but could’ve been substituted for cauliflower, carrots, beets, tomatoes, squash or colored bell peppers for other vitamin/vegetable needs. The special compartment in the fridge for cheese could have mozzarella for pizzas, cheddar for grilled cheese sandwiches, blue cheese for the “real adults,” string cheese for snacks, Cougar Gold for Christmas, and parmesan for pasta. Plus the various %’s of milks, Greek or non-Greek yogurt, or cottage cheese to help satisfy dairy cravings that 31+ flavors of ice-cream don’t count towards. That’s not to mention all the cupboard space dedicated to boxes, bags, tubes and cans of various foods in all categories. Any of that sound familiar?

For the last 17 months (first three months my host family took care of meals) I have been buying all my food at local markets and stores. My veggies are potatoes, cabbage, onions, garlic and tomatoes. Occasionally beets and carrots make an appearance. There are always bananas and limes with guavas, paypayas, avacados, mangos, cactus fruit, and oranges making short, seasonal appearances. Fresh 2% milk is trick to find, but just give it a couple days out and it’s yogurt. Honey, eggs, and peanut butter are easy to find, but jam, Laughing Cow cheese, chocolate little  takes bigger towns and fingers crossed. Rice and pasta are pretty easy to come by as long as you like the one kind.

With this giant contrast to dietary options, it shouldn’t be a surprise that I (and other volunteers) have dreamed about produce aisles in our sleeping and waking moments. No matter what conversation we start, confessions of food cravings surface even for food we never really cared for (ex. KFC). We experiment, but resign ourselves with the same meals day after day mixing cravings for American and Ethiopian dishes together. We splurge and hut down pizza and burger places, but will swallow anything backed with really cheap beer. We avoid commercials where advertisements seem to be mocking us.

So why am I staying up late on a school night to write this blog about a juice house that I found today? Because for me, it’s something completely new, fresh, a promise of variety and a shimmer of choice and opportunity. It’s something that I rejoice in and am humbly grateful for.

I’ll be the first to admit that I took variety for granted for the first 23 ½  years of my life. I rolled my eyes when a table at church would fill with squash and cucumbers from over flowing gardens. I would put things in freezers so that I could justify buying some of more things. I’d save coupons during college for more restaurants than I could ever go to.  I’d walk past blackberries, rhubarb, blueberries, strawberries in our backyard while they’d go bad. I had my favorite things, of course, but even those wouldn’t double up within a week or maybe a month.

I love living and eating in Ethiopia. As much as I crave Grandma’s tater-tot casserole and Dad’s fresh bread, I also have cravings for “Habisha,” Ethiopian, food. Being deprived…no, that sounds too harsh… unable to have a large variety has made me appreciate what I do have. I have friends at the market who smile and always give me great deals on fresh produce they had to carry into town. I have a single electric burner, while most of my friends have charcoal. I’ve learned how different women make the same dish and how the simplest things can make a difference. I’ve adapted to cook during a 5 month water shortage and times when sugar and oil are being rationed.

While it may seem like my variety is limited now, I know it won’t always be and that being here is extending my love of food. I’m worried what will happen when I can’t get injera or the shiro and burbury (spice powders) I’m bringing back will be finished. I look forward to my first bowl of cottage cheese and Mom’s canned peaches, but also when I serve friends a bowl of ga’at, thick porridge, with silsi.

So, I guess the point of this blog of foodness, is just to remind you all to be thankful for what you have, the choices that you have open to you, and to eat consciously of that. Also, get out of the comfort zone and try something new! You may be surprised what you find.