Fote Can't Cook

Today is Friday and just like in America, people duck out of work early on Friday. Here it is because Friday for Muslims is like Sunday for Christians, but also because nobody likes to work on a Friday night. So even though I typically try to be the last to leave, on Fridays, I go home early. This means I have time to cook dinner. Today I attempted to make a sort of pasta primavera. I had eggplant, cabbage, green beans, hot peppers, onion and pasta. I lit my coals (by myself for the first time!) and boiled some water. Threw the green beans and cabbage into boil and then the pasta. When it was done I drained the water and added the other veggies and- and here I think was my fatal mistake- tomato paste. You cannot get tomato sauce here but I figured, a little tomato paste, a little water, voila! Ragu. I put some in a bowl to bring to my host dad and put the rest in my house. While I cook, I gather an audience of 5-10 neighborhood children. After a while, they get bored and go home (or to eat mangos or to go to the well or to climb a tree). The last thing I do every time I cook is to boil water. I have a sweet thermos that keeps water hot for 3 days and this allows me to have coffee a few mornings without having to take the time for the coals to heat up. After watching me cook for an hour, watching me boil water is usually where the boredom sets in. Today, 2 kids stayed through the water boiling. I said good-bye to them and went into the house to eat and they sat down at my door. I had a dilemma. These kids were clearly hungry. I had too much food and leftovers don’t keep here. The thing is that I am here for two years, so if I feed two kids today, I know I will be feeding at least two kids every time I cook. I don’t have the time, or money, as a volunteer to feed the whole neighborhood. As Peace Corps volunteers, we have to constantly remind ourselves that we are hear to build capacity, not to give food or money to every hungry person that asks. It's the whole “if you give someone a fish they eat for a day, but if you teach them how to fish they eat for a lifetime” concept. In the end I caved. I just couldn’t stand the thought of two hungry kids sitting outside my door while I had more than enough food. Anyway, they had put in their time watching me boil water. I gave them the pot and took a bowl of food. We had our first bites at the same time. The food was terrible. It was too spicy and tasted overwhelmingly of tomato paste. The eggplant was rubbery. The best part was the boiled cabbage and you know you have problems when the highlight of a meal is the boiled cabbage. It was so bad that after a few hesitant bites, the little boy said “N bara luga” – I’m full- a phrase that I use frequently to avoid 10 meals of rice a day, but had yet to hear a Guinean say. The little girl stuck it out for a few more bites and then also said “N bara luga”. In Guinea, they don’t think a meal is good unless it has rice, maggi cube, and fish. Mine had none of these and was poorly made on top of it. So I guess I don’t have to worry about feeding the neighborhood while I am here. I am sure the big story of the night is what a terrible cook the Fote is. I can only imagine what my host dad thinks.