The Food

                You are probably wondering what I have been eating since I arrived in Mali. Having spent the past three years as a vegetarian, the food situation has been extremely difficult.  Growing up, I had the good fortune to attend a school with a pretty good cafeteria, so I never got the stereotypical school food experience with disgruntled lunch ladies in hair nets. However, this trip I am finally learning the meaning of “mystery meat.”

                Most meals consist of a starch (and lots of it) with a meat sauce. The starch can be rice, fonio (similar to couscous), pasta, to (a dough made from pounded millet), or yams. The sauce…well, that varies. On days when I consider myself lucky, it’s a light(ish) red sauce made with…well, I don’t really know what’s in it since my family doesn’t let me help with the cooking. I know that there are onions, garlic, and palm oil (and lots of it), but I have no idea why it is red. On days when I consider myself extremely unlucky, it’s the same thing, but with a huge amount of fish paste which makes it very, very smelly and unappetizing.

                As for the meat…I think I finally figured out that for the most part, I’ve been served sheep. Sometimes I feel like a little kid again, trying to hide my vegetables under the pasta or rice, but this time with hunks of meat. A few times I have been served chicken which is actually quite good, but apparently chicken is one of the more expensive foods in Mali so it’s rare. Whether or not I eat the food has really become a problem. Living with a family is a huge struggle between being rude and feeling sick, but for the most part I’ve sacrificed myself (and my stomach) for the sake of not being an impolite guest.

                All of the cooking is done outside. There are no “conventional” stoves or ovens; it’s all made on coal-burning little stoves. Thus, the cooking takes an incredible amount of patience and time. However, like I said, my family really won’t let me help out, save being allowed to fan away the flies (that really is the most complicated task I’ve been given thus far). The eating is done with one’s right hand out of a communal bowl. The women eat outside and the men inside (at least at my house).

                Breakfast has become my favorite meal. Each morning I am given a baguette, and, though it’s really just white bread, it’s extremely satisfying. I usually eat it with jam, Laughing Cow cheese, or if I’m really lucky, Nutella. Some days after dinner, my family has given me bouillie, a porridge-like rice pudding served warm. It’s not bad but they really pile on the sugar. On our first day here, our teacher Lamine says if food is good in Mali, it probably means it has too much sugar or too much oil. I think that sums it up pretty well.