Cookies

I used to consider gingersnap cookies my specialty. I loved making them, almost as  much as I loved eating them. The warmth of the ginger and rich sweetness of molasses and brown sugar were a perfect combination in my opinion. And I could always get them just the way I liked them- a little chewy with beautifully cracked tops.

But about six months before we left for Tanzania I had a string of terrible luck with cookies. My chocolate chip cookies melted all over the pan and my sugar cookies would not hold their shape. Even my fail safe gingersnaps were a disaster. With these experiences behind me, I tackled this cookie recipe with serious hesitation, but they looked too good to pass up and we needed a decent snack for our recent trip to the NCA.

We have a tiny gas oven which has two marked settings- "big red dot" and "small red dot"; our one cookie sheet is, shall we say, well used and usually burns everything on the bottom before cooking the top; and I had never made these cookies before. For so many reasons, these cookies, too, should have been a disaster.

But they were not. They were fabulous. Made without butter, and flavored with olive oil, anise and dates they were subtly sweet and entirely wholesome. I left off the sesame seeds for Tim's sake and left the fennel seed whole since I couldn't get my little food processor to grind them. They look quite different from the originals, but I will make these cookies again (and again and again and again...)
-kjd

kicking ass

I spend a lot of time writing about Eleanor, and Africa, and Eleanor in Africa. I spend far less time than I should- FAR LESS TIME- writing about my husband, Tim. Do you remember him? In case everyone forgot, Tim is the reason we find ourselves in Tanzania; he is here doing field work/data collection for his dissertation. And right now, he's kicking ass.

"What does it mean to be kicking ass at doing your field work?" It's a fair question, and one that until only recently I wouldn't have been able to answer myself. To start, he's doing his field work in Africa. I know you know this, but think about trying to conduct research under the same conditions I write about just living in. Today, for example, is a prep day for their trip to the field (leaving tomorrow morning). Tim has already left the house (9 am) and his day will go something like this: get a new car battery for our [personal] Suzuki (it died last night) then bring it back home and install it; go grocery shopping- which means planning and purchasing enough food to feed 7 people three meals a day for 4 and a half days (this includes planning for the right amount of fresh vegetables and packaged dried goods as well as planning for the timing of meat that will be consumed, i.e. what needs to be frozen, what needs to be cold, and when are there markets so that fresh meat can be purchased); buying car parts for the Land Cruiser which needs to be serviced today (this will involve at least two, but probably more, stops at different stores); finding an ATM with money so he can pay salaries; picking up his advisor from the airport (who is flying in from Dar es Salaam today); getting Gabriel once he arrives in Arusha so he can take the car to the mechanic to have it serviced, and then waiting while the car is serviced; putting all the food into the store room and making sure that everything is in order there; getting water (this means taking 5 or so huge jerrycans down the street to a woman who mans a hose running out of the ground, where these cans are filled with water used for cooking and cleaning at camp). Then he needs to come home, pack, and have dinner with two colleagues- both of whom dominate discussion so completely that I can guarantee Tim will say little more than a few sentences.Whew. And that's just what he has to do to GET out to camp.

Tim is responsible for 5 employees. He maintains a schedule and involves each of them in the creation of this schedule to make sure that they are comfortable with it. He keeps them fed, paid, and busy while at work. He maintains good rapport and keeps them laughing. He does not waste their time, asks that they do not waste his, and shows respect for their continued and considerable effort to helping to get his work done. These are no small feats; and aspects of field work that previous students have not been able to accomplish. He is exceedingly organized, detailed, and diligent- each and every day.

He has been asked to work on research proposals by two different colleagues, asked to serve as a handling editor for a top journal, and complimented (numerous times) by an advisor on the quality and novelty of his research questions, hypotheses, and the general direction that his research is headed. He successfully brought a UNC undergraduate to Arusha for a month and during that time managed to have some of his most productive trips to the field to date.

In addition to all of these things, he continues to be a fantastic husband and father, making sure that his family (and overly sensitive wife especially) are cared for, safe, healthy, and happy.He remains thoughtful to our (mine and Eleanor's) experiences in Arusha, both while he is here with us and while he is away. Plus, he gave me a gift certificate for an hour-long massage at a salon for Mother's Day. And that counts big.

In short, he is kicking ass. I could not do what he is doing- at least not with the grace and thoughtfulness with which he does it. I am immensely proud of him, and it's about time I shared that with everyone.
-kjd

more about food

Several of my early posts were about food- what I could get, what I couldn't; what I was longing for and what I'd newly discovered. I like cooking. I like experimenting with new recipes. I like writing about food. So why, I thought recently, am I not doing more of that?

A friend in Arusha recently turned me on to a new food/cooking blog, which has reinvigorated me with enthusiasm for cooking. I attribute this in large part to (a) the number of recipes that use lentils, which we get in great abundance here (lentils that I've never heard of and certainly never cooked with) and (b) the fact that, for the most part, I can get the necessary ingredients.

One recipe that first caught my eye was a Coconut Red Lentil Soup, which I've now made several times. The lentils and split peas are beautiful in their own right, and provide nice body and texture to the coconut curry base. I've taken to adding diced avocado as well as the suggested green onions and cilantro before serving; it adds a cooling balance to the spice and warmth of the soup. A few roasted seeds (sunflower or squash) might be nice too, for a little extra crunch (if you're into that kind of thing!).
-kjd

Even in the bathtub

You may recall from our first visit to Simanjiro, seeing Eleanor in a black and white necklace. This was a gift from a Maasai woman who one morning came to the boma. When we visited Gabrielle's home in Nainokanoka, his sisters made Eleanor another beaded necklace; this one with much smaller red and blue beads. His sisters, lovingly, presented this necklace to Eleanor and tied it around her neck. For a minute she was okay, but shortly thereafter had a meltdown that resulted in me having to break the necklace with my teeth, sending little beads rolling across the concrete floor, in an effort to get it off of her. She was terrified.

I was mortified. I had just destroyed a beautiful handmade gift from Gabrielle's family. I collected as many of the seed beads as I could, placed them in a little plastic ear plug container from my bathroom kit and told Tim (then Gabrielle) the whole, sad, story. Gabrielle laughed and said "They'll fix it." Ad they did: when we left Nainokanoka we had a single strand of beads with a clasp.

Since then, the necklace has been sitting around the house, in the hopes that Eleanor would become familiar and comfortable with it, as she did the first Maasai jewelry she was given. And she sure has. She now wears both of these necklaces everyday and everywhere.

Even in the bathtub.
- kjd

Happy Father's Day

Wouldn't you know, on Tim's second Father's Day I did not manage to get one single photo of him with Eleanor. What kind of a mother/wife am I? What's worse is that we had a fantastic brunch with two other couples, with two other dads, and I didn't get a single photo of a father. Period. These girls are just too darn cute.

If it looks like our kids were trapped in a playpen of lavender bushes it's because they were. And it was one of the most relaxing lunches we've ever had.

To all the fathers out there, Happy Father's Day.
-kjd

The lavender playpen.

"Hey Millie, check out my stomach."

Eleanor, Millie (on stomach), and Daniela.

Daniela.

 

Millie (left) and Eleanor.

"Look who I found!"

Doing their own things.

Eleanor and Millie, again.

Daniela and Eleanor. 

Millie.

"Eleanor, shhhhhhh....."

artistic tendencies

A sampling of work from our budding artist.

Her first photograph,

first crayon drawing, which decorates the fridge,

and (not first) patio chalk-art.

Eleanora

With a name like Kiyah, I've become habituated to mispronunciation. When selecting a name for our daughter, one of the things that Tim and I asked of each name under consideration was how else might it be pronounced?  Not that having your name mispronounced is a bad thing, per se, but we were aware that some names had greater potential for butchering than others.

When we came across "Eleanor" we thought we were in the clear. Seemed pretty straight forward to us, and although there have been some interesting accents placed on the name people generally don't struggle with it.

That is, until we came to here. Tell any Tanzanian, especially one that does not speak English, what Eleanor's name is, and you can see them tumbling the name around in their head, trying to reproduce the word...the very sounds that make it up. It's uncanny. I wish I could video tape it. People CANNOT pronounce her name. Tim observed that it's because they are unaccustomed to words that don't end in a vowel. Probably true... Sasa Tupo Arusha. Habari (za ashubuhi/ za leo/ za jioni/ yako/ nyumbani)? Baba, mama, dada, kaka. Asante. Asante sana. Karibu. Karibu tena. Pole.... Need I continue?

So, amongst the staff here, Eleanor is known as Eleanora. And I don't have any problem with that.
- kjd