Here in West Africa, there are quite a few ‘strange’ things to choose. There is street meat, fofo, and banku. Now street meat is the most dangerous, because I never know what I am getting. If it is the shish kebabs it is so spiced up that, it no longer has a taste of its own. It is still good, just slightly more dangerous, because it does not tend to be cooked on the spot and I am not always sure what sort of surfaces and hands it has touched between the time cooked and the time eaten by me. There is another type of street meat, which is a bunch of chunks of either goat (not a bad tasting meat) or cow cooked right in front of the person about to eat it. This is considered the safer bet as the big peace of metal the meat is cooked on is sanitized through extreme heat. Of course, the actual quality in the health department of the meat is still a mystery.
I love street Meat! More because I feel like an adventurer than because it tastes good, which it does.
The other food mentioned is fofo and banku. Both are basically big balls of doughy substance, which is dipped into a sauce. Therefore, when picturing Africa people often view a woman pounding a tree-branch sized stick into a vase like bowl. What they are pounding is a root, which after much pounding turns into the doughy substance called fofo. There is a reason why Africans are so strong. Anyways, there is a little restaurant where I can buy a plate of fofo or banku for only ten thousand Leoneans. That equals about two dollars. There are so many restaurants here made specifically for wealthy Africans and foreigners, and the food is expensive! In America, I would never spend that much for food (at least ten dollars for a plate) on a regular basis. Instead, I can have African food where the buildings might be a little less posh and the food less delicate, but it is good and cheep.
So, that is African food.
On other news, I am at this moment sitting at reception for the last time. That’s not true. I will probably hold the fort several more times between now and when I leave, but it’s the end of my official reception responsibilities. That is so strange to me. I’ve worked at reception for two years now. It’s had its difficulties, but overall it has been good.