The Jamerican Cookings of a Picky Eater

I’ve realized a few things since my last post (which I realize I posted on Friday, but I wrote it Thursday). 1) I ‘m good at compartmentalizing… until Friday. Seemingly a coping mechanism to get through the week, it does mean that by Friday I fall asleep by 9:30pm and don’t wake up until a solid 12 hours later. 2) I am absolutely overtaxing myself, whether that means physically or mentally, I have decided that I need to take a step, or two, backwards. 3) A solitary day with the combination of fresh produce, a hammock, a book, good music and a Red Stripe really does cure most, if not all, evils. Add a morning iced coffee in there and you’re golden. Even though I don’t have my own space, I find that withdrawing into myself, making my own schedule and finding my own spot (like under the almond tree in my hammock) is acceptable alone time. If I see people that I know on the street while at the market my day is nicer as compared to scheduling a meeting time that actually occurs an hour and a half later.

Lately I have been coming home too late to cook anything substantial, last night I went to sleep realizing that most of what I’d eaten all day consisted primarily of sugar- then I ate some sweedish fish (courtesy of my care package) and promptly fell asleep. When I do have time to cook, I either cook something familiar and therefore mostly American or try something new and fail. That’s not to say the something new is Jamaican either, the other day I tried a pasta dish with veggie chunks and a tomato/pumpkin sauce, then ruined it with an obscene amount of black pepper and it was decidedly nothing I’d ever seen or heard of before. I bought an avocado (here-on out I’ll be calling it pear, as it is referred to here) a few weeks ago and subsequently made more mexican food than I’m proud to admit. My dedication to vegetarianism is becoming more stubborn as the things I’m able to control feel further away, and my Jamaican family is NOT adverse to meat so today I resolved to buy Callaloo for the first time in my life.

Callaloo is a rugged, spinach-like green with thick stems and wide leaves. I am very particular about how I eat steamed greens, as the combined slimy and crunchy texture throws me off- you will never see me eat a mouthful of steamed greens without something else to accompany it. However, the combination of my Sweedish Fish dinner and the incredibly high nutritional content of Callaloo drove me to try it out. I also bought pumpkin, cho-cho (which I’ve also never cooked myself), Irish potato and carrot.

What I cooked tonight:
I started by cutting a wedge of pumpkin into chunks with the skin off and boiling them in salted water. I threw some Irish potato in there too, similarly diced and skinned.

Next, I prepared the Callaloo. I only made one stem because I’m only one person. The tough outside of the callaloo stem must be skinned- it comes off much like the strings of a celery stalk. The stem is tasty and is chopped, along with the leaves, in a linear pattern (like you might with spinach).
I minced garlic and scallion and added it to a pan of olive oil, let that soften up and then added the callaloo some diced carrot and a sprig or two of thyme. I also added a little water and put a top on the whole thing to let it steam. (salt and pepper to taste)

Meanwhile, I removed and separated the pumpkin and potato. I put the potato in with the Callaloo to cook more and mashed the pumpkin with butter and water. Initially I wanted it to be a sauce but realized that the callaloo was already a moist dish so I let the pumpkin stay the consistency of mashed potato.

Finally, I boiled dumplings in the same water I boiled the pumpkin with. Boiled dumplings are the most random and simple Jamaican food that I’ve taken to making. Combine flour, water and salt to taste until the mixture is dense and doesn’t stick to your fingers. Either roll pieces in a little snake or line to make a ‘spinner’ or roll a ball and flatten it out to make a ‘dumpling’. I put them in all of my soups and I made them tonight to balance the steamed greens texture thing.

Combine foods, add a Red Stripe and: Voila! Happy Saturday!

Adri’s Empty Dinner Plate- a phenomena rarely seen in nature.

I plan to follow up my feast with my new favorite fruit, the sweet sop, once I digest a little… IM SO FULL.

The flavor of sweet sop reminds me of a honeydew melon, except they’re easier to eat- just part the skin along any one of those little bumpies, the inside looks like a fleshy version of the outside, almost every bump has a seed surrounded by the fleshy fruit. Just bite, spit and enjoy!

Stabilizers on the Rollercoaster

 

This week has been a roller coaster of gut tightening frustration/confusion and self assured contentment. The contract signing event marked the beginning of “Team Jamaica” Community Tourism Training starting this week, which I am “auditing” for the benefit of the 10 Beeston Spring attendees. Sitting quietly in the back of the air conditioned room while attendees learn about the history of tourism, service etiquette and cultural history, I use the internet to catch up on emails and update the Beeston Spring CDC facebook page (Beeston Spring Community Development Committee… ‘Like"’ it!). I mill around the room during group work and presentation preparation to help and offer input and I generally frustrate myself by thinking too much and writing random thoughts and lists into my notebook. I also take photos and videos.

 

Computer illiteracy is a surprisingly larger barrier than I had previously anticipated- It’s hard to ignore the incredible resource that the internet provides and even though I live on a fairly steep learning curve, I sometimes feel intellectually un-stimulated without my regular and thorough dose of treehugger.com, huffpost and general newsfeed (not restricted to facebook of course). To do so means to wait for hours as the internet loads each page slowly but surely- I keep my time brief and utilitarian. I was pleased with the cyber reaction of my updates to the CDC page however and excitedly explained how many notifications flowed into our inbox as I added pictures and events.

 

At the risk of sounding too publically exasperated, my idealistic and personal goals are at odds with situations arising with the agriculture group. I want to support the projects that were already in the process when I arrived but what does one do when the project that will be consuming much time and energy may not be the best option for the community? Meetings with outside bodies regarding the funding and fulfillment of this project have been continually canceled and so my understanding of the details are still not confirmed. I am in conflict on many planes.

 

On the plus side, Wednesday was overall a successful day. The safety and security officer, Ann, visited me- my first outsider visit! Also she came with a HUGE package from my family (ie Momma). The whole thing was pretty rewarding. It was a pleasure seeing a staff member, to chat and eat sweet sop (delicious fruit related to sour sop) on the veranda and let her into my new life. Wanting to see my workplace, she drove us up the hill as I hung out of the window to say hi to a few persons I recognized on the way up. I pointed out where each district started and told her what I knew about the community. She said that she was very impressed by my integration and involvement with the community so far which surprised me… I am simply doing what I came here to do! Going back down the hill, I had her pass my house to visit Barbara since she’d never met my supervisor. Astil, Barbara and other community members were all at the house, giving Ann a very good image of my life and the people who share it. It was a pleasant time chatting together on the porch and I like to think Ann was reluctant to leave.

 

I returned home to open my package and find all SORTS of goodies, a book about urban farming I’d started just before I left, a French press, MY HAMMOCK, some clothes and other goodies I’d asked for (and some I hadn’t). A hand written note from Mom furthered my happiness as I imagined my next day off- Reading and swinging in my hammock with a cup of iced coffee. Any knots of frustration disappear just thinking about it. Ahhhh my stabalizers… will you send Lucy and some home made sauce in my next package mom??

 

Wednesday ended with a very well attended, 3 hour long CDC meeting. Talk about a roller coaster of gut clenching and calmness. I can’t even begin to detail it but there is lots on the horizon in the way of computer classes, summer programs for kids, CDC elections, a Talent Show and 50th Anniversary of Independence parade/ festival and an overall reorganization of the CDC. WOO! …Someone send me a Red Bull. (jk, I hate that stuff)

Anyway, I think I've been doing a good job compartmentalizing, unlike at home where things can tend to pile up and overwhelm, for some reason once I remove myself, it is not usually difficult to shake myself from any negative thoughts or feelings. A new conversation or setting wipes the slate clean and I am (usually) able to readjust my attitude. I’m ok with this.

 

That’s all from me I suppose, until next time, Bless up! 

In Search of Some Kind of Routine

It is amazing how much happens in a week around here, let alone two. I put off writing because I can’t possibly write an adequate account of everything, and then everything becomes more things and before I know it I’m writing a novel. Thank god for pictures though, 1,000 words for one picture sounds about right.

Lesa had family visit two weekends ago (June 9), we went to Negril to go to the beach. It was overcast and we got there later in the day, but I had a few beers and swam in the ocean, bonded with my host family and had my first experience of being a white non-tourist in a tourist area- it’s a unique and puzzling experience I can assure you.




The next few days involved meetings and work days to prepare for the big event on Thursday, the contract signing between JSIF (jamaica social investment fund), REDI (Rural Economic Development Initiative) and Community Tourism partners to start tourism training in rural communities across the Island. On Wednesday, Barbara and I went to a farm so that I could see it, meet the farmer and so that we could get some produce for the event. The farm is cared for by a rasta called Fiero and it took us almost 3 hours to get there. We were dropped off at Cottage, a district (road) off the main road. I’d taken a taxi up this district before and it is essentially a road lazily curving up a mountain side. At one point the road no longer even pretends to be paved and a normal 4 door can’t go any further. I thought, we must be almost there, and an hour and a half later was still wrong. At some point Cottage becomes Left Hall (pronounced ‘lef-all’), and the houses are so remote, I begin to understand the true economic situation of Beeston Spring. The view, however, is amazing. From the bush around Left Hall, one can see the Sandals Resort, east to Whitehouse (6 miles away), and then west almost to Sav-la-Mar. The ocean meets the horizon and the shoreline seems immaculate, shades of blue indicating kelp forests, shallow and deep areas and foamy waves. This view, from a field on top of a mountain with a cow in the immediate vicinity is surreal and overwhelmingly beautiful. I let the breeze cool my neck, closing my eyes and smiling. I told Barbara that if she ever lost me, I’d probably be here, in my hammock.

(co-co, a root plant, not the chocolate)

Fiero has shelters at his farm to house his harvest and himself when it rains- this barrel catches rain water so he has it during the day/ for his plants. His wife comes up with him and makes him lunch over an open flame, and also helps him farm, they as well as their daughter are rasta, though their daughter lives much closer to the main road. The only way for Fiero to carry his harvest to market is by donkey, or by foot.

A beautiful example of intercropping- yam, scallion, thyme, lemongrass, peas and more.
Yam grows a spiky vine, the tuber grows huge and tough, even after it’s boiled it is starchy and denser than a potato.

Red peas growing under mango trees

Gungu peas grow on a tree

Looking inland

View from the top of Fiero’s farm, looking outland

Cho-cho is a vine, but the fruit grows from it instead of underground. Relatively tasteless but has a pleasant texture- nice in soups.

The next day was the event. Having been up late the night before in preparation, the CDC members truly rallied to decorate and organize all morning, not leaving to change until the ceremony was set to begin (but of course Jamaica time delayed it). I was truly impressed by the decorations, even though I was helping to make them. After we came back from bathing, I decided to attend the ceremony instead of stay outside waiting for the guests to come out. I entered late of course, and an usher sat me in the front seat- I had to pass all of the officials, guests and the football team on my way there. oy. My friend Poochie was a community representative, and was sitting in the choir chairs facing the audience (the event was held in the church)- we shared a lot of silent looks and giggles throughout the ceremony. Of course the minute the ceremony ended the rain began. It was on and off for the rest of the afternoon, but the tents were set up so that the event was not hindered at all. I enthusiastically wandered around the reception, meeting officials and schmoosing with the locals- kicking ass and taking names almost literally. It was quite enjoyable and I think I made an impression on a lot of people.

I didn’t have the camera for all of this, Shamere took over for me.

Anyway, the next day proved to be NOT a day of rest for me, as I ran around sending emails and grocery shopping. I’ve since discovered that Beeston Spring requested TWO volunteers, so now the tug-o-war over my time at least makes sense. I’m trying very hard to be effective without exhausting myself, it is a precarious balancing act that doesn’t always equal out- some days I focus so hard on the balance that I don’t get home for dinner until after 9pm. I want to farm, and help the CDC (which is the most time consuming at the moment), I want to walk around town and socialize with people during their free time and I want a project to call my own. So far I’ve done all of that this week, I balanced some invoices, wrote some letters on behalf of the CDC, held an after school study session for the primary schoolers and weeded in the demonstration plot. It feels particularly good to be in the garden again, and I can’t help but miss Sprout Creek Farm as my now soft fingers get butchered by rough weeds and thorns. I can’t wait for them to toughen up and for my back to be strong enough to handle the hours bent over. I’m about to revisit some yoga on the beach this weekend. For someone who doesn’t much love the beach, I’ve been escaping to it every weekend for some relative solitude and relaxation with the local PCV’s.

Anyway, I love and miss you all- I think of home a lot and wonder what I’d be doing if I were home: drinking an iced chai? hiking and camping with the pup? still dairy farming and teaching? having a whiskey at Billy Bob’s? drive in movies? ahhhh summer in the Valley. enjoy it for me my loves, and until next time, walk good <3

Work Days and Wisdom Teeth

Frequent and passionate meetings have been the motif of the past week, a necessity to prepare for Thursday’s big event. Stakeholders involved in the event are proving marginally more helpful than a hole in the head and this whole thing is teaching me what questions to ask preemptively, BEFORE responsibility is agreed upon. Questions such as, do you have the funding lined up for this event? Who else could host it and do THEY have funding? Can the rest of the community attend, etc.

Sigh, I’m going to stay away from getting too political, my blood boils sometimes, the stakeholders involved in this rural and limited community are difficult to reign in but I hope to be able to do so. As it is, the planning and preparation of this event have put pretty much everything else for me on hold until it is over.

This past week, daytimes have been dubbed ‘Work Days’. Beeston Spring does not have a maintenance team or garbage pickup, and well meaning citizens have attempted a recycling program that has turned into ‘storing’ plastic bottles in an abandoned historic building adjacent to the event space. Generally the same crew comes out to volunteer their time to weed whack along each side of the road, sift through the rubbish for garbage which is then separated into garbage or recyclables (only plastic bottles are recycled here, no glass or tin/metal). The rubbish is raked into piles and either burned or thrown beyond the road as mulch. Any time an event is held in Jamaica, particularly a service event, food MUST be prepared- and not just sandwiches and water. Jamaicans believe that the only filling food is something hot and wet (with gravy etc.) so the curried chicken with rice and peas and some sort of sweet cool-aide-ish drink is served and eaten in the shade of trees or a veranda.

I awoke on Monday with the familiar feeling of my single wisdom tooth poking out of its secure cocoon in my mouth. By Wednesday the pain was pretty intense, worse than it ever had been, and my jaw was beginning to swell. Fearing a trip to Kingston if I told the nurses, I self medicated with motrin and ice, also buying a topical oragel. Wednesday night, having been fighting a toothache turned headache and sore throat all day, I found myself sitting at the kitchen table doing yet more community related paperwork with community members. My crying host sister, the TV in the background and the chatter of three different conversations overwhelmed my already fried brain and I excused myself to cry in my room- the first time since leaving that I felt compelled to do so… I don’t blame myself in the slightest. I was banned from leaving the house on Thursday to work since Barbara was convinced the heat was making the pain worse, to which I grudgingly complied. I resumed working yesterday and my regimen of self medication made the pain manageable. Today I think things are cooling down, I only woke once in the night and have not yet taken motrin- but have not felt the absolute need to do so. Works for me though, I could use the detox. We’re going to Negril later today to go to the beach, Lesa’s cousin is visiting with his family from Pennsylvania. I’ve never been to Negril so I’m taking the opportunity to join along.

During the work day on Wednesday I let one of the pickney use my camera (under very strict guidelines, she’d been working with us all day so I thought she deserved a treat). I didn’t teach her how to zoom, but the photo’s she took were actually very good… and mostly of me. I bet you guys miss my face too (hehe) and I can’t get enough Internet time to post photos to Facebook SO, here ya go

Looking out from the CDC container- behind the roofless wall is tons of garbage, behind that is the bottle collection room

CDC Container

Cleaning behind the abandoned building