Kitika Amerika, hizo inaitwa "man food"

Last weekend we left Nairobi (yay!!!) on a student-planned trip to Mt. Longonot. Mt. Longonot is a dormant volcano, or now just a giant crater. So, at 6:30 am on Saturday morning, a group of eleven students boarded the Jazz Quartet and drove two hours outside of Nairobi. One man on the way up said that up and around the top of the crater was about 12 km, or about 7 miles.

I went with the phonetic spelling of the mountain (taken by Alex)

The climb was steep, dusty, and awesome. About halfway up we could see wild giraffes off in the distance. If you look closely enough at the following picture, you can see them too.

bottom right corner. The things that look like trees, but aren't

                

<~~~giraffes






It was about an hour and a half climb up. Once we got there, the view was unreal. The “top” was truly the edge of a crater. The flat part, starting from where we walked up to the edge of a straight drop down into the bush-covered crater, was probably about 6 feet wide. These are the pictures I got…

facing away from the crater center

carter wall

…before my camera decided that then would be the perfect time to stop working. This is sad, as the view only got prettier. The rest of the crater rim consisted of higher peeks that were actually more narrow and steeper than the initial climb up. Some parts were about two feet across from edge to edge, both side with a fairly straight drop. It was single-file for most of the way, occasionally consisting of grabbing onto bush roots and hoping the sand wouldn’t give away. It was the perfect mix worry and awesome, with an incredible view the entire way. Please enjoy these pictures that other people took:

The group (taken by Kelsey)

(taken by Grace)

(taken by Arianna) 

(taken by Alex)

On the way, we encountered an exercise group who were running the mountain. There were some parts of the crater rim where it was (or so I thought) absolutely impossible to run without certain death, but they were doing it. One man who passed our group shouted “Get dirty and get fit!” We were defiantly dirty, but I don’t think I would run that mountain if you paid me. I like living too much.

I can’t really do Mt. Longonot justice in this post. It was easily one of the coolest things I have ever done.

Sunday I finally cooked for my family. I offered to do lunch since I was going to another student’s birthday dinner that night. The menu: sloppy joes and butternut squash mash. In the morning I went to Nakumatt, a giant super-store in Kenya that sells almost everything, to get the ingredients.

Shopping list (thanks mom)

Ground meat

Brown sugar

Ketchup

Mustard

Garlic powder

Buns

Onion

Salt

Pepper

Squash

I knew I could get the squash and onion the way home at one of the vegetable kiosks for a better price, so that was easy. For those of you up to date on American veggie prices, you’ll know that a butternut squash goes for about $1+ per pound. At a Nairobi vegetable kiosk, you can get a HUGE squash for 100 ksh, or a dollar. Fun facts.

At Nakumatt, the first place I went was the sugar isle. Right now, there is a sugar shortage, which is strange since sugar is typically a pretty productive crop in Kenya. According to my parents, it is due to corruption. The politicians can afford to import their sugar, so proper funding wasn’t given to the sugar farmers within the country. My parents said that some farmers were even paid to not grow sugar in order to promote the international sugar market, which obviously didn’t work out so well since normal people cann’t afford imported sugar. Due to this, the sugar isles in all the grocery stores are empty, and the one or two bags that are there are now double the price they were a few months ago. Customers are limited to one bag per shopping trip, but they are lucky to even get that. Luckily for me, brown sugar is not as popular, and there were about 10 bags still on the shelves. 1kg was about 250 ksh, or $2.40.

Ketchup is not a condiment here, or at least not as we know it. Heinz is available for about 300 ksh extra, or you can just get tomato sauce for 50 ksh. Tomato sauce is not pasta sauce, but instead some liquid-y tomato goo pretending to be ketchup. I figured this pseudo-ketchup and a small pack of tomato paste for 20 ksh would suffice.  Mustard is also crazy expensive, but ground mustard seed is not. Everything else was pretty easy.

I got home and my mom did something I never expected- she left me alone in the kitchen. This was good though, since I probably looked like a complete spazz trying to peel the squash with a kitchen knife (no peelers). Cooked that with a little salt and brown sugar, easy enough. Cooking the sloppy joe filling was also not a problem.

When I went to serve, I discovered my mom had invited two of her friends to try my food. Pressure. I served my host-dad first. My host-mom had also informed me that if dad likes something, he won’t say anything. For example, my mom got her hair done, and dad didn’t say anything. I didn’t tell her that that probably just means he didn’t notice, but instead used this information to gauge whether or not he like the food. I handed him his plate with a scoop of squash and a sandwich and explain that, in America, sloppy joes are “man food”. Maybe I confused it with the Manwich, but I was promoting it any way I could.

The rest of the family and friends were served, but I wanted to know dad’s opinion. Clearly he was going to be the toughest critic, so I watched him. Bite one- didn’t say anything. Bite two- nothing. Bite three, fo…NOOOOOOO he’s speaking! It was in Swahili, and to my brother Edwin/ Patrick (he was home for the weekend). “Edwin, kitika Amerika, hizo inaitwa ‘man food’”.

Translation: Edwin, in America, this is called man food. So wait, is that a good thing or bad thing? I tried the sandwich. I’m not a beef fan, but it wasn’t bad. Actually, considering I made it, it was pretty good. The squash mash was also good. And... WHOAMYGOD DAD TOOK SECONDS. On everything. SUCCESS. The rest of the family shouted their approval from across the room. My mom even asked for both recipes and then let me do the dishes. Never happens. I’m usually not allowed to touch anything in the kitchen. She did say that she though the food would have gone well with ugali, but I expected that. 

Overall, a successful weekend.

The last week has been spent typing up my independent study proposal. More on that when I actually get approved. This afternoon a few of us are apartment hunting in Nairobi. Also more on that when we find one.