Day 19 - Traditional African Cooking Lessons

On this 19th day, entering my final week in Tanzania, Elidaima insisted we spend time together so she could teach me traditional African cooking. She was joking the night before about having me kill the chicken we were using - or at least, that's what I thought.  Elidaima came over with her friend Happiness (I finally found 'Happiness' in Tanzania!) shortly after 9:00 am, bringing a special kitenga(apron) for me. I honestly can't tell the difference between a kitenga, okanga, or kikoi. They all look the same to me and you basically do the same thing with them - wrap them around your waist. (Below - Happy and Happiness)

They then brought me into the lodge's kitchen - a small building off to the side with a two-burner propane stove - which we used repeatedly, along with the charcoal 'oven' outside. There was one sink with one tap - no choice in water temperature (like my shower). The very limited counter space was wiped often as we prepared each dish. There were three knives we could work with - and, by my husband's standards, none of them were sharp enough to do a decent job. What we couldn't cut through with the knife, we ripped apart with sheer muscle strength - such as the joints and bones of the chicken.
Now on to the story of the chicken. I have to warn all readers that the content below may be graphic, particularly the pictures - but this is life in Africa. I managed not only to participate in the preparation of the meal, but I even ate it afterwards. I admit I had moments of doubt, and considered becoming vegetarian forever - but I enjoy eating meat. As it happened, Elidaima actually wasn't joking about killing the chicken. To think I pet this bird moments before its life was snuffed out! Thankfully, Elidaima took pity on me and she did the dirty deed of cutting its neck. (Only because when she went to a cooking school many years ago, she ran from the moment when she was to kill her first chicken, thereby failing her test. She, at least, understood how I felt.)
Now, I had heard that chickens will still move once their head is removed and that much is certainly true - but I swear it was still clucking! It was taking longer than expected to be still so Elidaima just finished the job by sticking the whole chicken into boiling water. This is done so we can then easily pluck its feathers - which I did. Although this was Elidaima's lesson, she enlisted Neema's help quite a bit. Neema (the lodge's cook) then began cutting into the chicken and removing its organs. I was then instructed on how to cut the body into various pieces.
Pictures below: Elidaima cutting the chicken's neck; Happiness watching me pluck the feathers after the chicken has been placed in boiling water; burning off the left-over feathers above a charcoal oven; bbq'd chicken head.  

I won't go into great detail about each dish but I will say altogether we spent hours in that kitchen. We used many of the ingredients we are familiar with in Canada - garlic, ginger, tomatoes, green pepper, vegetable oil and red onion. There was one vegetable, however, I have yet to discover the English name for. The chicken was made into a sauce. We also made a beef sauce which contained green bananas. With our meal we had rice and spaghett (otherwise known as 'spaghetti' in Canada). Papaya and pineapple were also sliced - as dessert, I guess. Cooking rice was a very involved process too since Neema had to work through various cleaning stages before we could even cook it. I had no idea rice was such a labour-intensive dish in Tanzania. (Below is a picture of Neema washing the rice many, many times.)

 When everything was finally cooked, we set the large table in the 'dining room' where I have many of my meals. Happiness, Nuru, Neema, Cheupe(the gardener), myself and a neighbour sat down to enjoy the fruits of our labour. Elidaima insisted I take more chicken; I was fortunate she did not stick the foot on my plate. (Supposedly people even eat the bbq'd head.) The food was quite good and I therefore earned the name "Mama Mzungu from Magu" - a place in Tanzania where Elidaima was telling people I was from. I said it sounded like a Bongo Flava name and I should start rapping - perhaps as a special guest at the pre-wedding party that was being set up on the Lodge grounds as we ate. 

 

Did I mention I had to wear a scarf around my head while I cooked? I also learned there are many ways to wear the kitenga - unfortunately too late to protect my white t-shirt from squirting chicken blood. Lesson learned! I also can now appreciate why it seems to take so long for my meals to be prepared. They literally prepare all meals from scratch, buying the necessary ingredients from the nearby market for each dish. During the evening a neighbour was hosting his daughter's send-off at the Lodge - complete with yards of fabric draped all over the walls and trees, a master of ceremonies, rows of plastic chairs, and very loud music. It is common for ladies from the same family to purchase a bolt of fabric with which to make all their dresses. The styles are all different - but the fabric is the same. Needless to say, it was a very colourful affair.  I watched as they set up and as many of the guests arrived, but then went to my room before the party really kicked off. The music could easily be heard indoors - along with whoever had the mike at the time. The evening came to an end around 11:00 pm (no alcohol was served) after playing a number of Celine Dionne songs in a row. (She is a favourite singer here, even used as Nuru's ringtone.) I have to admit, this music, and being cut off from the Internet for over a day, left me a bit homesick. The people here are great and try to make me feel very welcome, but not understanding everything that is being said all day can be draining. One week to go - and I intend to make the most of it!