day 2 et seq.

Hi Folks -

The radio silence was not due to us making a point about our unreliability, but due to our having moved to our house which *alas* doesn't have internet. Yet. That's 72 hours from landing to having a house, phone number, and foreign bank accounts in multiple currencies! But no, no internet.

But this letter isn't about our logistical hoops. At mom's request, this letter is about food.

Our new house is located across from the neighborhood soccer field, and right next to the soccer field is the local barbecued goat joint, and that's where we had lunch after we moved in. It was billed as the best goat joint in town, and it was fine. I really prefer pork, though. It was served with this totally tasteless stuff that is called ugali in Uganda and Tanzania, and maybe here, too. Really, it's like something that that Catalan chef would have come up with: imagine that you ran your food processor fast enough, and long enough, so that air itself started to form into an airy froth and then, if you keep it going lander and faster, it thickened up into an air-like paste and then, if you leave it overnight, it finally came out as a thick sticky dough of air that still tasted like air. That's what ugali is like. Some people find it's nothingness to be so mysterious as to be actually unappetizing, and I really sympathize with those people. But you can also look at it like snails and lobster, as a vehicle for goodness. The ugali was served with sauteed onions liberally dahsed with a pretty hot spice, and the onions with the ugali with the goat was all pretty good.

Saturday afternoon we walked around the neighborhood to find grocery stores and things, and we did manage to find a very close dry-goods store, and a close vegetable stand, and a not-too-far place with some meats. When we got back we were able to make ... spaghetti with red sauce. That's a bit disappointing but, at the same time, a consolation. We did make the sauce from scratch, but still. In the morning we had coffee and omelets. Tonight we found a source for chicken (which is surprisingly hard to get -- there are stores for beef and pork, but I guess most people are able to get chickens sort of on hand, so you don't need to buy them anywhere) and made chicken masala. We went crazy and threw cassava root in there (because it looked like sweet potato at the vegetable stand and -- in our defense -- was called "sweet potato" in french) and it came out not like soft pieces of sweet potato but still pretty good. So good, in fact, that Clara has proposed a cook-off: go ahead and try to best our cassava-root-chicken-masala. As an appetizer we seasoned up an awesome big avocado and spread it on some bread.

Our house is a nice little starter home: it's sort of ranch-like, 2-bedroom (to be converted to a 1-and-an-office) with a nice front patio and a lot of flowers around. We're one block off of the lake. The sun sets over the mountains across the lake in Congo. That's if you're standing up. If you're sitting down, the sun sets over a wall with a coil of concertina wire on top. Whatever.

Bradford