Just the latest around here

I think it goes without saying that I've been awfully busy lately. The last few days have been a wee bit quieter because Jorge is off at the lake with his sisters, Milo, and nieces. I had too much work to be able to take another day off, though. Which means that for the 2nd year in a row, I did not spend my husband's birthday with him. Even though he's the one who told me not to bother making the drive to the lake, I'm sure I'll be subject to guilt-trips and recriminations over this one for at least the rest of the year.

To make up for it, we're celebrating tonight instead. To start, we'll have a selection of yummy antipasti and homemade spreads, then dinner will be roasted beef tenderloin with potatoes au gratin, individual eggplant parmesan stacks, and a beet salad with pecans and blue cheese. And for dessert, lemon cheesecake made with real Philadelphia cream cheese, a luxury item of extreme value and rarity in Africa. We'll even crack open one of our treasured bottles of wine from Solm's Delta in South Africa - the Africana Reserve, no less. So it should be a nice night!

Alicia and the girls are here for a few more days, but on Tuesday I'm flying off to Uganda for a week, where I'm helping the Ministry of Health with a pavilion they've mounted to highlight nutrition work in Malawi, for the African Union Heads of State Summit. This is a political event, so very much different from the technical workshops and conferences I'm used to attending. I'm hoping it will be interesting, but I really don't know what to expect.

Well, I'd better get back to my cooking!

Crappy Thanksgiving

Oh, yesterday was a crap day. So bad, in fact, that I blogged a long post all about it - and then my session timed out JUST as a I hit "Publish" and the web ate my whole post. It was that bad.

Which I take as a sign that the Universe just wanted me to put it all behind me. Which I did today by spending a lot of money at H&M (although that was an ordeal too, with all of the ATM machines and credit card readers out of commission in the WHOLE TOWN. The Universe, apparently, also wants me to wear last season´s fashions).

But a little bit of advice, should you ever come to Portugal:

• Make sure you get a map with details of the main cities. Trying to find your way around town when the city is the size of a potato bug on the map = not easy.
• If you ever come to Coimbra, WALK. Do not drive.
• When asking for restaurant recommendations at a tourist office, always ask for detailed directions. Do not settle for a scribbled note in a general region on a very crappy free tourist map.
• If an alley looks really narrow, it is actually much smaller than you think. Turn around. Do not enter. Really, I mean it. Your ckutch will thank you.

Tonight we are in Porto, which I like MUCH better than Coimbra, even without a decent city map. I mean, there is even a mall here which stays open until 9 PM! Hallelujah!

So, I restored my spirits today with some retail therapy, and, I am not embarassed to admit - a McDonald´s Sundae. Do you know how long it has been since I had one of those? I have no idea what they are actually made of - although I´m certain it ain´t dairy - but when you have lived as long in foreign parts as I have, sometimes all you need to settle your soul is a little cholesterol-enriching American fast food. It´s better than meditation, yoga, or herbal tea combined.

Tomorrow we are hoping to find ourselves a nice little farm in the wine country to stay on for a couple days, to unwind. And then very soon it´s back to reality. Sigh. I´m not ready!

Speaking of packing

One of the things that every expatriate does is stockpile food from home. We’re all guilty of it. I have a 3-month old package of Philadelphia cream cheese sitting in my fridge right now that I can’t bear to open. It is so precious, so rare! I just like to open the refrigerator door and see it twinkling back at me in all its foil-wrapped glory.

A lot of the foods that we take for granted are difficult to find in many African countries. In Eritrea, the only cheese I ate for 5 months came packaged in little foil triangles. In Sudan, they follow Sharia law, meaning no pork. One time I returned to Darfur from home leave, toting a 50-pound backpack of food, stuffed with pepperoni, prosciutto, and pre-cooked bacon. I felt a little guilty cooking the stuff around the housekeepers, but it was so good.

Malawi is better than most countries I’ve worked in, in that we can get quite a lot of good imported foods from South Africa, so for the most part I don’t feel deprived. But there are a few things from home that every American likes to bring, so that on a rough day we can whip up some of our favorite comfort food. Each time we travel from a developed country, we push the limits of our baggage allowance, then hoard our precious commodities like crazy once we get over here. For me, those items are:

Bakers chocolate for making brownies (This makes me very popular)
Parmesan cheese (the real stuff and the fake. It’s all good.)
Tony Chachere’s
Refried beans
Wonton wrappers
Chocolate chips
Marinated artichoke hearts
Creole mustard
Andouille sausage (the real stuff, from Louisiana)
Cheese of all kinds. It stinks up the plane, but who cares!

This is actually pretty restrained. I know people who work for the US government here who get free shipping from the states, and they have olive oil and salsa sent over by the gallon. I once went into a friend’s house and saw, stacked high up in the pantry, packages and packages of American toilet paper, shipped over on Uncle Sam’s dime. I mean, I would understand if we only got the scratchy brown stuff here, but the toilet paper here is great – triple-ply, little patterns stamped on – that’s luxury, folks. You wouldn’t get toilet paper like that in Chad, let me tell you.

Lots of random things

We had a nice Thansgiving weekend. Of course, I had to work on Thanksgiving, and out of town to boot, but I made it back to Lilongwe in time to go to a friend's for dinner. Then on Saturday we made dinner ourselves - two turkeys, plenty of stuffing, and 5 desserts. For about 18 people. We were stuffed.

Our holiday plans are finally set! We are going to Jolly Olde England! Well, at least Milo and I are. Jorge has to see if his visa comes through in time.

The visa application for the U.K. is ridiculous and insane. I have British citizenship, through my dad, and Jorge is a permanent resident of the U.S. So you would think it would be pretty straightforward for him to travel to England, right? No way. We had to fill out a 20-PAGE application and submitted even more pages of supporting documents. Dang limeys.

Jorge is doing OK. His back is hurting him more and more lately, so this week he is off to see an orthopedic specialist.

I volunteered my house today for the annual work Christmas party. I'm not sure what I was thinking.

Milo demonstrated a new talent this weekend. After he woke from him afternoon nap, we found him in his crib, naked, his diaper pulled off and lying beside him. I guess he takes after his mama - I was a nudist baby too.

Preemptive redemption

My 4th day of being a single mom. I think I've got it down. I've been working from home in the mornings, where I'm surprisingly productive even with an ankle-biter doing the worm to get close to me so that he can literally bite my ankles. (Or gum my feet, close enough).

~~Did I mention already that my son has a future as a b-boy? He can't crawl yet, but his worm moves are awesome. ~~

Anyway, between, Godfrey, the part-time nanny, and me, Milo is not lacking for attention and care. And he doesn't seem to even notice that Jorge is gone. So ha! I am winning the favorite parent race!

Anyway, I realize in my last post I complained about my husband just a wee bit (again) and lest you think that I really attached myself to a deadbeat loser, I thought I should tell you about our anniversary.

On Oct. 30th it was our 4th anniversary. Such a short time, yet it feels like forever. I mean, for-eeee-verrrr. I was working out in the field and didn't get home until almost 6. And you know what my husband had done for me? Well, apart from supervising Godfrey making me a delicious dinner of roast chicken, Jorge made me homemade chocolate eclairs. You could really taste the love. And love is yummy.

Do you see now why I married him?

The training looks like it's finally going to happen, so next week I'll be up North, out of the office. Because I'm breastfeeding, I'll be commuting - an hour each way - instead of staying at the training venue. It's going to be a long week, I can tell you.

Unfortunately, today I seem to have come down with a cold, so that is going to make training a bit more difficult. Milo has also been sick, and not sleeping well as a result. So it's been pretty tiring around here lately.

I do have some good news though - success on the cake front! My first chocolate cake attempt, last weekend, didn't work out. The cake tasted good, but it just fell to pieces when I tried to cut it. But this weekend I made a strawberry cake with fresh strawberries. Nummers. So I'm 2 for 3 so far. Next up: red velvet cake. I love my new hobby.

Also, I managed to get out of the house last night and go to a party. Had too much wine, stayed up too late, and sang very loudly. So really, a great night. I'm paying for it today though!

For Miriam

My sister Miriam, bless her heart, requested recent photos of Milo, and who am I to say no? So I brought some in today to post. But first you have to sit through one my life updates...

Well, the office is back up and running. There are still a few problems; the fridge is kaput, which is a problem because I keep Milo's milk in there. But otherwise I am impressed with how quickly the Ministry of Health got everything fixed.

You may also notice that I am posting when I said I would not. The training I was meant to facilitate this week had to be postponed until next week. Really, the reason is government bureaucracy, but don't tell my colleagues I said that. So I'm here in Lilongwe for the week. Tomorrow is a holiday (Mother's Day) so I get to stay home. And here's the exciting bit - Milo turns 6 months tomorrow, and I'm finally going to let him have a bit of solid food! Deep down I'm kind of hoping he rejects it, and looks at me as if to say, "But mommy, your milk is so much better than this crap!"

Everyone we know went away over the weekend - there was a big music festival, the Lake of Stars, out at the lake. It's one big weekend-long party with lots of music and camping and beer. The kind of thing that is a lot more fun without an infant who goes to sleep at 7. (Milo's such a party pooper). So we stayed home like the squares that we now are.

In other news, I have a new ambition: To become an expert cake-baker. I already hold the titles for Best Brownies in Malawi and Most Delicious Chocolate Chip Cookies. Really, there have been multiple challengers, but none have even come close. But some occasions just call for a nice cake, and I have never really excelled at cake-making. So this weekend I started with a basic butter cake with buttercream frosting. Yum. Next week I'll do a chocolate cake. Maybe someday I'll try a jelly roll or sacher torte, but let's not get too crazy here folks. But I am open to suggestions! What do you think I should learn to bake?

And this brings me to my other project, which is in direct conflict with the great cake bake-off: Losing the rest of the baby weight. I have just ONE POUND to lose before I get back to where I was before I got pregnant! Then I suppose I will have to get rid of the insulation pounds I put on in preparation for pregnancy (Gotta have that cushioning for the baby, you know. It's what all the super-moms are doing.) But still, Yay!

OK, onto the pics:

So here's Milo, almost 6 months old. And still no hair.

Seriously, is he not just the cutest child ever? How on Earth did I create such a being?
Already excited about soccer.
But more excited about chewing.

He likes to knock over the blocks, if only he can reach them
Peek-a-boo!

People told me I was crazy to consider taking a road trip with a baby. They said, smugly, "just wait until you have the baby - you'll be too tired to travel." Or "It's a lot harder than you think."

I am happy to have added more evidence to my theory that people are just big fat whiners. We're 4 days into our trip to Montana and Yellowstone and having a great time. We drove 6 hours on Monday to Coeur d'Alene, then camped outside town. Tuesday we explored Northern Idaho and camped close to Missoula. On Wednesday we managed to catch a free concert series in the park in Missoula, which was great fun, then drove on to Bozeman, where my aunt lives.

Milo has been a champ. I usually sit in the back seat while Jorge drives so I can give him a bottle when he gets hungry. He has slept through most of the driving.

Jorge is loving it. It's his first camping trip and he's totally sold. He loves cooking over a fire, sleeping in a tent, packing up all the gear. At first we were both a bit dubious, though. We borrowed a bunch of camping equipment from friends and on the first night we dumped out the tent and all the poles and just looked at eachother as if to say "Do you think there's still time to find a motel?" But we managed to work it out in the end.

Jorge didn't really believe I had ever camped before - he thinks I'm much too spoiled. But I proved him wrong by the end of the second night, when I taught him the fine art of making s'mores. (The trick is to slowly roast the marshmallows until they are crispy and golden on the outside and melted through on the inside.)

Tomorrow we leave for Yellowstone for two nights. Updates to follow!

And I'm back!

So I had two weeks of fast internet connection access, and did I put it to good use? No. Instead, I wait until I'm back on African internet to post an update. But really, I was busy:

Jorge and I flew to New York and drove to Pennsylvania for the wedding of my closest friend Mary. I got to see some old college friends, and Mary looked beautiful. It was a really lovely wedding. Long, but lovely. It was a Catholic ceremony and I felt like the only heathen protestant in the church, though. Pictures to come!

After the wedding we spent a couple days with Jorge's best friend Daniel and his girlfriend Lisa in New York. We had pizza at Grimaldi's, which is supposedly the best in New York. When we got there, there was a line halfway down the block, but they really pack them in the place, and we were seated in 40 minutes. The pizza was worth the wait. We also got to have lunch at Artisanal, one of my favorite restaurants. It was a total cheese-fest: Cheese plate, followed by cheese fondue, rounded out with a Croque Monsieur (basically a fancy grilled ham and cheese sandwich). I'm not sure I have really explained here the depth of my love for cheese, but if you've seen "Sideways," I am the cheese-head equivalent of the wine nerds in that film.

We then flew to Los Angeles, where my sister Joy and my grandparents live. The rest of my family flew in to see us for the weekend: my dad and his wife, my sister Miriam and her boyfriend, and my Aunt Alanna. It was a full reunion, and we had a great time. I also got to spend time with my boy-genius nephew. How many 2-year olds do you know whose vocabulary includes "concrete," "beard," and "combine harvester"? We got a free day at Disneyland thanks to my sister's hook-up, and made it to a Dodger's game as well.

Our last stop was New Orleans, where the main activity was eating. Lunch at Commander's Palace, obscenely large and gooey Po'boys from the Verti Marte, Colombian food, and my sister-in-law's delicious shrimp fettucini. Then dinners at Dick and Jenny's, an amazing little local place, and Clancy's, the good old boys' favorite.

Didn't get to see as much music as I'd have liked, owing to the fact that I'm now a namby-pamby old lady who likes to be in bed by 10, but we did make it to Rebirth at the Maple Leaf. It was a poignant show, because the brother of the tuba player had died only days before. The night before the show, two of the band members were actually arrested for disturbing the peace when they dared to hold a second-line parade in his honor, without a permit. The police showed up and told all the marchers and musicians to go home, and of course the mourners just kept on playing and dancing for their fallen brother. I love New Orleans.

And now I'm back in Malawi, where the heat has kicked up, and the trees are miraculously green again, despite the fact that there has been no rain since May. Even my garden is starting to grow!

It's a Good Thing

I'm a big fan of Martha Stewart. Yes, I know she's a criminal, bourgeois control freak, but I'm really a "take people as they are" sort of gal, so I let it slide. After all, she's the woman who taught me to make shot glasses out of cucumbers, how to bake bananas foster, and innovative new uses for soup tureens.

So to return the favor, I thought I'd let Martha in on a little idea I have for a new story:

Good Things on Sticks

Think about all the nice things that come on sticks:

Corn dogs

Scare Crows

Chicken Satay

Tiki Torches

Popsicles

And from Malawi, two new entries sure to take the culinary world by storm:

Mice on a stick

and Little Birds on Sticks

No need to thank me, Martha. Just make sure I get a piece of the action if "Mice on a Stick" goes global and gets a mall food-court franchise. I can see the goofy hats already...

Photos from half-marathon

I've finally gotten pictures uploaded:

Here's Jorge, cruising along after about 15 miles (turns out the course marking wasn't so accurate, for those of you puzzling over the milage). Sorry for the crappy quality of the picture. He was moving so fast that I didn't have much time to zoom in or compose the shot.

There's a little itty-bitty Jorge running across the Kamuzu Dam on his way to the finish line.

And here's ME! I walked up to the dam after Jorge passed by so that I could take photos of the other runners.

Jorge's running has been a really good way for us to meet other people here in Lilongwe, as there are quite a lot of dedicated runners. Each Saturday, there is a group run in the morning, followed by breakfast. Today we hosted the run, and cooked up a hefty meal for the runners of pumpkin pancakes, quiche, bacon, buttermilk biscuits (with gravy) and sweet potato hash. Yum.

Fresh fish delivery

Forget vacuum packed cold-storage containers. This is how true adventurers get their fish home from vacation:


The only problem is that they tend to get a bit dried out. Imagining throwing your fish in the clothes dryer for an hour before gutting it. The skin was like beef jerky, and the tails stood up stiffly at funny angles. The meat was fine though.

Taking my own advice for a change

About a month ago, I joined the gym. I was hoping to lose a bit of weight before Jorge got back, but alas, those 8 Cadbury Creme Eggs and 2 pounds of cheese I ate in Ireland seem to have de-railed my plans. Given that I advise people on health and nutrition FOR A LIVING, this was a serious lapse for me, but it was only one week, after all. And I'll be back to eating healthy again once I polish off the additional two pounds of cheese I brought home with me.

I know most of you will find it very difficult to imagine a gym in sub-Saharan Africa, but they do exist. I have hit the gym in Eritrea, Ghana, and now Malawi. Alas, Darfur still hadn’t opened one during my stay there, but I’m sure it’s coming.

My gym has two treadmills, three bikes, and about 8 weight machines. There is a sauna and steam room (which are only heated on request) and a hot tub of dubious hygiene. Overall, it’s small, but well-equipped and clean. It’s located in a very nice hotel opened by the Malawian president 3 years ago.

What you may not know is that every African capital has at least one swanky hotel for visiting dignitaries (Lilongwe has 3!). There’s been a trend for quite some time among African heads-of-state to build ostentatious, Western-style luxury hotels, intended to proclaim to the world that the country is no longer a backwater. And when these hotels get out of date they raid the treasury request the funds for a new one. Often these hotels are blocks away from slums full of poverty and squalor.

But for a gal in need of a bit of firming and toning, who needs politics, right?

Godfrey is Back!

My housekeeper, Godfrey, has been out sick for two weeks. Fear not – my floors did not go unmopped, my bed unmade. Another housekeeper, who is waiting for a colleague to settle into his new home, filled in. But it just wasn’t the same.

Godfrey, who I think should be re-named Godsend, does a great job of keeping Jorge entertained during the day. One evening I came home to find out that the two of them had spent a good part of the day throwing peanuts into the air and seeing how many the could catch with their mouths. (Jorge won, by 8 peanuts).

So Godfrey started work again on Monday, and when I got home that day I could tell just how desperately boring it must be without Jorge around. Every surface in the house had been cleaned, and every little knick-knack neatly sorted. My pantry is organized by food type. Even my bobby pins were in a tidy little pile.

So today I asked him to cook, which, I think, is his favorite part of an otherwise tedious job. When I got home, I had a note that said “The Shepherd’s Pie is in the warmer, and the mangoes are in the fridge.” (Just take a moment to savor that…)


I know most of you have never had this experience, so let me just tell you, so there is no confusion: The only thing better than coming home to a spotless house, a set table, and a warm, delicious dinner, is having your good-looking spouse there, preferably handing you a fresh-squeezed margarita. Life just doesn’t get better. Unless there’s a cheese course involved somewhere as well.

Well, that ought to teach me to keep my big mouth shut

I went to Mangochi District yesterday for a meeting, and drove back this morning. On the way down, I noticed a lot of people standing by the side of the road, holding out baskets of small, dark items to sell to passers-by. I thought, "ooh, perhaps berries?"

So on the trip back up, I asked my colleagues what was in the baskets. They said, "Oh, would you like to try?" And before I could say another word, we had pulled over by the side of the road and were checking out the merchandise.

I'm sure I don't need to tell you, but it wasn't berries. It was insects. Boiled termites, to be exact. About the size of potato-bugs. My coworkers bought a bag each, and they are going to prepare them for me so I can have them for lunch tomorrow.

Great. I just had to ask, huh?

I'll be sure to let you know how they taste. I'm thinking oily and crunchy. With an earthy sort of flavor.