Peanut Shells Like They're Going Out of Style

The second major storm of the season came and knocked down some of the zinc plates that make part of the fence for my douche (the wind also brought rain through one corner of my grass roof, but luckily I put up a tarp covering above my bed earlier in the week so no harm, no foul). It also flooded the whole douche area with mud. This inspired me to make a grand plan for my backyard. I had already made plans for a garden, got some seeds, and started thinking out my timeline, but then when I saw how my yard flooded, I realized I would need to do some major work to keep the rains from over-watering my future plants. So today I bought a shovel.

I also collected peanut shells to put under my plants because it’s supposed to be good for the soil composition and I’m hoping it will help with drainage since I’ve got a lot of clay (hence the flooding). It just so happened that the day I asked about saving some of our peanut shells was the day the women in my compound started shelling the peanuts they had saved for seeding the fields, so when I asked in the morning, I expected a small bucketful today, another tomorrow, so forth, and instead received the largest sack of peanut shells I’ve ever seen in my life, all in one fell swoop. And that night it POURED! and I got to see just how badly I needed the drainage. Hopefully my garden will be a success and I will be able to show them not only that I’m not entirely useless (since I don’t farm, can’t really cook any of their food, and don’t speak the language all that well) and that they too can use the peanut shells to enrich the soil. At the moment, we shell peanuts like every day and they toss most of the shells. I’d like to eventually talk about composting and natural soil treatments. I have a lot to learn about gardening, but it’s one of the topics I’m going to explore at IST because the women have a large community garden and so does the school. If I can help them garden more productively and maybe throw in a few conservation lessons to boot, I’m sure it will feel like a job well done.

Another, ‘hey look I’m feeling productive’ story is my trip to the vegetable market today. I bought several veggies and some canned goods, but the reason I feel like such a winner is because I finally got a burner for my gas stove, so this week I can cook myself a meal or two. I realize this is an even more self-centered accomplishment than planning out my fancy backyard landscaping, and yes, parents, I am being very food-focused. But food has been a major struggle and source of frustration for me. I like to eat. I like to like what I’m eating. I like to eat my whole meal because I like it all, not because I know I need the nutrition. But I’ve realized that I am a big fan of the side-dish. I like having several different items on one plate and when I have a one-dish meal, I eat less because I get tired of the food. And when it’s the same one-dish meal everyday, I find myself in a mental pep-talk halfway through every meal. “You can eat three more bites of rice, you need the food. Take more mafe (sauce), there’s nutrition in it. You can do it! Just a few more bites.” I’m being extreme, it’s not actually that bad and there are other volunteers who eat worse than I do. I don’t eat badly: there’s always food and we get rice and corn, and we get peanut and leaf sauces (they make a mean leaf sauce on corn cous-cous), and there are some veggies (peanuts, leaves, onions, okra) in just about everything.

I think really it’s the eating experience that’s been tainted for me. The real source of frustration is the culture around eating. If you are eating (or about to eat) it is polite to yell out to anyone who might be passing by “come over here, we’re eating!” and when I don’t, sometimes I get grief over it. ‘Hey! You didn’t call me.’ ‘Oh, sorry, come eat?’ ‘Thanks anyway.’ Fair enough. More frustrating (and even enfuriating), “Amie, EAT!” They will say this at any and all points during the meal. The second everyone arrives at the bowl: Amie, eat! I was waiting for us all to start together and they don’t say that to any of the other 7 people eating here. I’ve stopped moving my spoon so that I can chew what’s in my mouth: Amie EAT! What does it look like I’m doing? Someone walks into the compound and I look up to see who it is and what they’re carrying on the back of their bike: AMIE, EAT! Sometimes, I think it’s just for the heck of it because I’ll be in the process of removing the spoon from my mouth and they’ll say: Amie, eat! I usually respond with the ‘are you really talking right now’ stare, but more than once I’ve been tempted to just stick out my tongue with food all over it so they can see that I am, in fact, eating. Most of the time my response is “I’m eating” but it drives me nuts when they say it and I can’t respond because there is food in my mouth. But the part that really truly makes me angry is at the end of every meal, no matter how much I have eaten or even if I’m the last one left, when I am done I say “thanks, I’m full” and they say some variation of “eat a little more”. Now “eat a little more” is fine and I understand the politeness factor. They want me to be well fed. “No thank you, I’m full”, end of story. But often they can be obnoxious about it. “You didn’t eat.” Oh really, what have I been doing with the food that’s no longer in front of me? What have we all been doing for the last twenty minutes? Typically it’s like this:
-I’m full, thanks.
-You didn’t eat.
-Yes, I ate and I’m full.
-No, you didn’t eat.
-Yes, I did. I ate, I’m full, thank you.
-Eat a little more.
-Oh no, I’m WAY full. (Accompanied by a smile, to remind myself mostly that this isn’t something to get worked up about).
-Eat a little more.
-NO.
Last week there was one lunch when I pretty much stormed away from the bowl because at the end of the meal, “you didn’t eat” was followed by a very pointed “where did you eat today?” Are you kidding me? I just ate here! Spoon on the ground, foot hits the pavement (or dirt, rather) and I’m in my hut.

They tell me you’ll tap into unknown sources of rage here. I hope that if I must find myself overcome with rage, it’s over something related to injustice or something that might actually merit rage and not over my ability to judge my own fullness at a meal.

On a completely different note, today is Sunday and I love Sundays in general, but I really miss church. I hope you’re all well and I’m thinking about you.