Hold the mayo

Only one day of training left! On Friday we swear in as volunteers and then off we go to our permanent sites in all corners of Namibia. The Caprivi kids are leaving on Saturday, overnighting in Rundu and then heading to our villages on Sunday. Phewww.
Reflecting back on training, I wanted to write a post about something very important to me and I believe most other members of my training group. This is an issue very near and dear to my heart. Probably a main passion my in life, a source of joy and sorrow, and one of exceeding importance in navigating the delicate contours of adapting to a foreign culture: food.
Yes, food is a cultural touchstone that can make or break your experience in a foreign country. In many cases it defines the culture: tacos, lo mein, tiramisu, all conjure different images of certain locales. I know that many of you have probably already wondered, and I’m sure I’ll be asked eventually, so what is the food in Namibia like?
So for your benefit I’ve prepared a little description of Nam cuisine, although defining the food in Namibia in a holistic sense is a little tough, since Namibia as a whole is made up of several different ethnic groups, each with its own idea of what constitutes a good meal. Hereros, for example, love meat. A traditional Herero meal could be goat with porridge with sour milk. Yum. Oshiwambos eat Mopani worms, which are apparently big worms that they fry in oil to make crispy. When undercooked they have a bitter, squishy taste. I have yet to try. Every ethnic group eats porridge, which is boiled maize meal: kind of like very bland grits or polenta. The traditional way to eat porridge is to ball it up in your right hand and dip it into whatever meat, vegetable and sauce you happen to be eating it with. Every cultural group’s porridge is a little different. Oshiwambo and Kavango porridge is sandier, and has a softer consistency, so they don’t chew it, just swallow it whole.
Caprivians are fortunate enough to live next to the Zambezi river so they eat lots of fish, and it’s a fertile enough region to grow vegetables, particularly one called the 5 year vegetable, which is a type of bitter green, like spinach. In the village, for lunch and dinner, we usually eat porridge with fresh river fish, and either a sauce of onions and tomatoes or 5 year vegetable.
What I’ve given you so far is solely a description of traditional food. In my village people mostly stick to the traditional because they still cook in pots over the fire, and supplies are much less available than in towns where there are always at least one or two supermarkets (Spar in Okahandja has turned into my favorite place in the world). But the thing about Namibia is that as a result of colonization and “development” the food culture has changed over the years. And while families in towns will still prepare a traditional meal one or two days a week, the food as a whole has evolved to a strange mix of African, German and mayonnaise.
Let me explain. Somewhere along the line, something very strange happened to food in Namibia. And what we’ve ended up with is a love for “tomato sauce” (Nam ketchup), mayonnaise, and processed powdered soup packets that knows no bounds. This is a typical dinner at my house: Rice, pasta or porridge, chicken or another type of meat (lately oryx since I walked into my kitchen one day 2 weeks ago only to find my host mother hacking away at a giant oryx leg), soup packet, on top of which they will dump mayonnaise and tomato sauce. Sometimes we have pasta with mayonnaise, like pasta salad but warm, with soup packet. And tomato sauce. Sometimes we have pasta with mayonnaise and rice (why?). And sometimes to spice it up we’ll have salad: lettuce, drenched in a dressing of mayonnaise, sugar and milk. Which is also the same dressing recipe used for spaghetti with mayonnaise, carrot salad and potato salad. I’m not sure exactly why it makes sense to make spaghetti with mayonnaise (+sugar and milk, just in case you were worried about being able to button your pants at some point after training), cut up a hard boiled egg and put some peas and carrots in it, serve it warm, and then to top it off pour soup over it, but that’s how we do in Namibia. Oh, and the other amazing thing about mayonnaise in Namibia: it doesn’t need to be refrigerated. We’re not sure how this works, since it still says clearly on the label to refrigerate after opening, but in every household the mayo is kept in the cupboard. Oh, and for some reason, the only food on which mayonnaise isn’t appropriate is sandwiches: butter goes on every type of sandwich. (side note: they also put butter on peanut butter sandwiches, due to some kind of miscommunication somewhere where peanut butter is the peanut part, and then…well, I think you get it).
So, to finish it off, here’s a random sample of food we volunteers have been given by our families:
Macaroni salad with fruit cocktail
Biltong (Nam beef jerkey) with gravy and potatoes
Cold baked beans with sliced banana (that was my mom – the next day we had it again with cooked carrots, and she informed me that she just loves this kind of “salad”)
Wart hog
Oryx
Goat brain
So there it is. I could go on and on about food but this is just a taste of local cuisine. Oh Namibia, how I love thee. But after my two years here I hope to never see a jar of mayonnaise again.