Our most noteworthy event for this week has been the procurement of 5 new members to the Benton household; three were intentionally and two were unwelcome.
We are happy to have adopted 3 hens that we hope will help support my banana bread baking addiction. I've named them Elenor, Betty, and Sonia and have been told by several Cape Verdeans that chickens don't need names. For now they are staying in their little house and getting used to their new home before experiencing the freedom to get friendly with the neighborhood roosters.
The fourth and fifth household additions came in the form of parasites... both hosted by Scott. The little suckers are called botflies and make their way into the human body by hiding in laundry while in larva form. Unsuspecting folks happily dawn their socks and underwear only to realize a few days later that a little mealworm-looking bug periodically pokes its head out from a slightly swollen patch. I had the pleasure of helping Scott pop them out of his skin. In actuality, the experience didn't have much of an impact on our week (other than our moving our clothesline to a new location), but I thought that it might make for interesting reading for you guys. I figured that this is the kind of thing you morbidly hope to hear about when your friends join the Peace Corps : )
Please enjoy some photos of lovely Cape Verde:
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Pictures
We live "up there."
Scott amidst the garden. Someone else planted these crops. After the harvest we'll plant our own.
Returning from Rabo Corto with a whole lot of mangos. Yum.
The view from near our home. Give it a few minutes and the clouds might pass by leaving a view to the ocean.
Donkeys galore!
Landscape of the island. Near the coast is very very dry, but we have grass and pine trees up top.
A church for Doris McAllister before the rain came.
A church for Doris after the rain.Saturday, October 23, 2010
"Morabeza" means Hospitality
This week Scott and I had more opportunities to receive the "morabeza" or hospitality of Cape Verdean families. In the area where we live, most families make a living through small scale agriculture or by fulfilling the irregular needs of the Forestry Department. Their homes and lifestyles are simple, but the people are rich in hospitality and kindness towards friends, family, and new foreign neighbors who hardly speak their language.
On Sunday we joined a neighbor on what he described as an "easy" walk to a "nearby" town. His definitions of "easy" and "nearby" are different than my own. The journey was an almost vertical 2 1/2 hour descent that may have been easy for a billy goat but ranked among the 5 most difficult hikes that Scott and I have ever done.
We left our mountain-top pine forest in the morning and went down into lush ravines akin to scenes from Jurassic Park. The lower we got, the wetter the landscape became. Banana, papaya, mango, and orange trees sprung up. Waterfalls cascaded into holding tanks where naked children splashed and bathed. When I thought my legs would be unable to carry me another step, we arrived in the town of Rabo Cort (short tail) in Ribiera de Torre.
Folks in town teased our neighbor asking if he had become a tour guide for foreigners. He generously introduced us as his new friends, and we were instantly accepted into peoples' homes and gardens, offered drinks and seats and fed a delicious lunch. By the time we began to climb toward home in the afternoon we had the phone numbers of new friends, 2 bags of bananas, and a rice sack full of mangoes. Luckily our neighbor is not only kind but incredibly strong. He carried the mangoes on his shoulder as we huffed and puffed to carry our body weight alone up the mountain. It was exhausting.
Throughout the past week neighbors have provided us with multiple gifts in the form of food. I feel like every time I step out of the house I return with the makings of a fruit salad. We have been blessed and humbled by the generosity and hospitality of our new Cape Verdean friends.
On Sunday we joined a neighbor on what he described as an "easy" walk to a "nearby" town. His definitions of "easy" and "nearby" are different than my own. The journey was an almost vertical 2 1/2 hour descent that may have been easy for a billy goat but ranked among the 5 most difficult hikes that Scott and I have ever done.
We left our mountain-top pine forest in the morning and went down into lush ravines akin to scenes from Jurassic Park. The lower we got, the wetter the landscape became. Banana, papaya, mango, and orange trees sprung up. Waterfalls cascaded into holding tanks where naked children splashed and bathed. When I thought my legs would be unable to carry me another step, we arrived in the town of Rabo Cort (short tail) in Ribiera de Torre.
Folks in town teased our neighbor asking if he had become a tour guide for foreigners. He generously introduced us as his new friends, and we were instantly accepted into peoples' homes and gardens, offered drinks and seats and fed a delicious lunch. By the time we began to climb toward home in the afternoon we had the phone numbers of new friends, 2 bags of bananas, and a rice sack full of mangoes. Luckily our neighbor is not only kind but incredibly strong. He carried the mangoes on his shoulder as we huffed and puffed to carry our body weight alone up the mountain. It was exhausting.
Throughout the past week neighbors have provided us with multiple gifts in the form of food. I feel like every time I step out of the house I return with the makings of a fruit salad. We have been blessed and humbled by the generosity and hospitality of our new Cape Verdean friends.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Udderdly Delicious
During the past week Scott and I experienced a few meals that could best be described as "culinary delights." When my sister and I were growing up we discovered that this was the term mom would use for new recipes that we probably ought to be suspicious of.
First up was "requeijo." A lady who lives in a fertile volcanic crater near our house told Scott and me that she would show us how she makes cheese. Her daughter helped her milk the cow and get the process started. We chatted for a long while and then went into her outdoor kitchen area where she cooks over a wood-fed flame. Boiling inside of a thick pot was a lumpy mixture that she served up for us. It looked similar to ricotta or cottage cheese, and it was delicious. Senhora Concessão explained that this type of cheese was made of goat´s milk but couldn´t be made very often. We were in luck because that morning her goat had given birth. The cheese we were eating, called requeijo, was made of a mother goat´s yellow milk before her regular milk came in. I was a little upset by the news that I was eating boiled colostrum, and I was concerned for the baby goat. Senhora Concessão laughed when I expressed my conern, though, and assured me that there was plenty for the baby. And since it was so tasty, Scott and I ate a lot of it guilt free.
The Second culinary delight turned out to be a triumph. Last week when I attempted whole grain yeast rolls, they came out much more like tough biscuits. This week, however, they were fluffy and amazing. Pat pat, Melissa. Well done.
The third incident takes the cake. A man who works near our house invited us to join him for some of his wife´s famed pizza. When we arrived, however, his wife had gone out of town unexpectedly, and he had done the cooking himself. He served us sauted goat liver, esophogas, and mammery tissue (!) on a bed of rice. Liver is not something that I can normally choke down. In recent past I´ve secretly spit it out for people´s pets. I will conceed, though, that goat liver is much more paletable than chicken or beef liver; it´s tougher. Scott didn´t find the udder to be all that bad. He snickered, "I guess I´m a boob man."
In other news, on Friday we had the honor of attending a new food inspection facility´s inaguration. The facility means that an embargo on Santo Antão´s agricultural products can be lifted, and as such, it was a big deal. Cape Verde´s prime minister gave a speech and paused to speak with Peace Corps volunteers after the event. Scott didn´t recognize whose hand he was shaking, though, and misunderstood him when he asked where we live. Scott said over and over that Santo Antão is really pretty. Later he was able to laugh at the situation but feels it was a testimony to how hard it has been to learn the language here.
*We now have a mailing address. Please email or check my facebook page if you´d like to send letters, photos, or gallons of ice cream : )
First up was "requeijo." A lady who lives in a fertile volcanic crater near our house told Scott and me that she would show us how she makes cheese. Her daughter helped her milk the cow and get the process started. We chatted for a long while and then went into her outdoor kitchen area where she cooks over a wood-fed flame. Boiling inside of a thick pot was a lumpy mixture that she served up for us. It looked similar to ricotta or cottage cheese, and it was delicious. Senhora Concessão explained that this type of cheese was made of goat´s milk but couldn´t be made very often. We were in luck because that morning her goat had given birth. The cheese we were eating, called requeijo, was made of a mother goat´s yellow milk before her regular milk came in. I was a little upset by the news that I was eating boiled colostrum, and I was concerned for the baby goat. Senhora Concessão laughed when I expressed my conern, though, and assured me that there was plenty for the baby. And since it was so tasty, Scott and I ate a lot of it guilt free.
The Second culinary delight turned out to be a triumph. Last week when I attempted whole grain yeast rolls, they came out much more like tough biscuits. This week, however, they were fluffy and amazing. Pat pat, Melissa. Well done.
The third incident takes the cake. A man who works near our house invited us to join him for some of his wife´s famed pizza. When we arrived, however, his wife had gone out of town unexpectedly, and he had done the cooking himself. He served us sauted goat liver, esophogas, and mammery tissue (!) on a bed of rice. Liver is not something that I can normally choke down. In recent past I´ve secretly spit it out for people´s pets. I will conceed, though, that goat liver is much more paletable than chicken or beef liver; it´s tougher. Scott didn´t find the udder to be all that bad. He snickered, "I guess I´m a boob man."
In other news, on Friday we had the honor of attending a new food inspection facility´s inaguration. The facility means that an embargo on Santo Antão´s agricultural products can be lifted, and as such, it was a big deal. Cape Verde´s prime minister gave a speech and paused to speak with Peace Corps volunteers after the event. Scott didn´t recognize whose hand he was shaking, though, and misunderstood him when he asked where we live. Scott said over and over that Santo Antão is really pretty. Later he was able to laugh at the situation but feels it was a testimony to how hard it has been to learn the language here.
*We now have a mailing address. Please email or check my facebook page if you´d like to send letters, photos, or gallons of ice cream : )
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Santo Antão - First Impressions
Just as we were becoming comfortable with the people, food, language, and landscape of the island of Santiago, we made a move to Santo Antão where life is quite different. Although our training host family lived in a rural zone, we were very near Assomada, the 2nd largest city in the country, and were able to experience many of the conveniences of urban life as well as the hustle and bustle that comes with crowds.
My first impression of Santo Antão was, "Where are all the people?" There are no aggressively pleading van drivers. The streets are wide and relatively free of vendors carrying goods on their heads. Even the music is calmer. Rather than funana, which reminds me of accordion players on crack, a style called morna is more popular. It has a slower, more romantic sound.
When we arrived to the island it was raining heavily and we were unable to ascend to our town. In fact, we couldn´t even see our future home from Porto Novo (pronounced Port Nove) because the mountain top was completely shrouded in clouds. We stayed with another volunteer for several days waiting for the place to dry out.
A week ago Monday we rode up the cobblestone street that twists and turns as it climbs from sea level to 4300 feet. The desertous, balmy coast transformed to grassy ridges and ravines and then to cool pine forest near the pinnacle.
Our home is property of the Forest Service and is used to house workers that sometimes need to stay the night for assignments. It´s huge. It´s a little dark and damp, but Scott excitedly compared it to the Berenstein Bears´cave house before they moved into their tree. We´re enjoying the irony that we were assigned to one of 2 pine forests in the entire nation and quite possibly the only place where you need to sleep with a blanket. For all of you who prayed that we´d be somewhere green- thank you! It would be impossible to more fully grant that request.
Our biggest adjustments so far have been learning the new dialect of Kriol (imagine speaking pig latin in a foreign language) and adapting to life without a refrigerator. We have electricity for a few hours each day near lunch and dinner time. Since there is only one little store up there, we have to go into Porto Novo at least once a week to stock up on goods. I´m learning creative cooking with non-perishable foods, and we´re looking forward to the day that our neighbor clears his rabbits out of our chicken coop so that we can have fresh eggs and more frequent meat.
For the next 2 months our work assignment is simply to get to know the community. We´ve been enjoying the time to settle in.
Bad news for those of you who were fans of Scott´s mustache; it was a one day deal for our swearing in. Although the stache is all the rave in Cape Verde, Scott couldn´t handle me laughing at his face every time he turned to speak to me.
PS- Thanks for your comments and interest in how we´re doing. I look forward to responding personally when we get an internet routine down.
My first impression of Santo Antão was, "Where are all the people?" There are no aggressively pleading van drivers. The streets are wide and relatively free of vendors carrying goods on their heads. Even the music is calmer. Rather than funana, which reminds me of accordion players on crack, a style called morna is more popular. It has a slower, more romantic sound.
When we arrived to the island it was raining heavily and we were unable to ascend to our town. In fact, we couldn´t even see our future home from Porto Novo (pronounced Port Nove) because the mountain top was completely shrouded in clouds. We stayed with another volunteer for several days waiting for the place to dry out.
A week ago Monday we rode up the cobblestone street that twists and turns as it climbs from sea level to 4300 feet. The desertous, balmy coast transformed to grassy ridges and ravines and then to cool pine forest near the pinnacle.
Our home is property of the Forest Service and is used to house workers that sometimes need to stay the night for assignments. It´s huge. It´s a little dark and damp, but Scott excitedly compared it to the Berenstein Bears´cave house before they moved into their tree. We´re enjoying the irony that we were assigned to one of 2 pine forests in the entire nation and quite possibly the only place where you need to sleep with a blanket. For all of you who prayed that we´d be somewhere green- thank you! It would be impossible to more fully grant that request.
Our biggest adjustments so far have been learning the new dialect of Kriol (imagine speaking pig latin in a foreign language) and adapting to life without a refrigerator. We have electricity for a few hours each day near lunch and dinner time. Since there is only one little store up there, we have to go into Porto Novo at least once a week to stock up on goods. I´m learning creative cooking with non-perishable foods, and we´re looking forward to the day that our neighbor clears his rabbits out of our chicken coop so that we can have fresh eggs and more frequent meat.
For the next 2 months our work assignment is simply to get to know the community. We´ve been enjoying the time to settle in.
Bad news for those of you who were fans of Scott´s mustache; it was a one day deal for our swearing in. Although the stache is all the rave in Cape Verde, Scott couldn´t handle me laughing at his face every time he turned to speak to me.
PS- Thanks for your comments and interest in how we´re doing. I look forward to responding personally when we get an internet routine down.
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