what Kenya smells like

I napped today, unintentionally, and after awhile I went to the kitchen to find dinner. I had just finished peeling a large grapefruit when Dad walked in, followed by Booker T., Dad's Kenyan student and a good friend. Dad announced that he wasn't going to work out after all he was going to dinner, and Booker T. said we were invited to come eat Kenyan.

I abandoned my grapefruit and got ready, hurriedly, and went with Dad and Booker T. to the land of the unknown. As we neared the house, on an unforeseen adventure, as it were, Booker T. exclaimed oh, I smell Kenya. And so did I. We took off our shoes at the back door and walked into a house full of LeTourneau students and delectably spicy foreign aromas. Some of the people who grew up in Kenya had prepared dinner, calling their moms for the authentic recipes and getting them to send the necessary spices.

And we were indoctrinated into the mysteries of Kenyan food, and it was unbelievable, in the best possible way.

Booker T. was delighted to be not only eating Kenyan, but playing tour guide and tutor. He thoroughly explained what everything was and how we ought to eat it, and was quite encouraging as we attempted to do so. We ate beef stew and ugali, which is thick cooked cornmeal, greens and tortillas, ditching the flatware and scooping it up with our fingers, sopping up the juice with ugali and licking our well-flavored fingertips. I paid attention to the tutorial and so ate it like a Kenyan would have, albeit less skilfully, but was nonetheless congratulated on my skills at eating soup with my fingers.

I achieved the impossible; I ate soup with my fingers. It's rather sad that I have been so thoroughly ingrained in my American notions that I find forks and spoons absolutely necessary, and that the notion of spoonless soup-eating never even crossed my mind as a possibility. Thus it was refreshing to do something so completely different than anything I'm used to doing.

The food was incredible, well-spiced and aromatic, with bold, sweet chai and mandazis to go with. I haven't eaten so well in ages. My mom is quite a good cook, but this was incredible. Hours later, I'm still quite full, and though my hands are washed, on my fingers lingers the smell of Kenya, warm and spicy.