Starting 2015 With Some Variables, a Baader-Meinhof, and Some Perspective

2015 is the year I will finally head to my first post. I find that both thrilling and terrifying. How am I going to be prepared in 6 months to determine the merits of someone’s visa application, in Arabic? Luckily, I still have four more months of Arabic and a Consular General training to prepare me for the next two years. What do I have in the meantime though? A German exam. Because, you know, self-inflicted language torture is my thing.

I never got to test in German during A-100 because there were 100 people in my class and only so many resources to test all of us in all of our languages. So priority was given to people with languages on our bid list and people who self identified at a high level, that’s my theory anyway. From a resource management perspective it makes complete sense, you have only so many resources available and you need to narrow down and pair a list of 117 posts with 100 people. You need something to help with filtering. Once those resources are used, you may have time and capacity to test a few other people. Do you waste those resources on people who identified their language skills at low or do you test the people who have a good chance of getting off language probation? It makes complete sense to me, but it doesn’t mean I’m particularly thrilled to be taking the German exam 4 months into my Arabic training. But then I retort to myself, this is 100% self-inflicted. I could have taken the test earlier or I could have postponed it until consular training. I made the decision to take it in January during A-100 though.

Something I’ve discovered about myself recently is fairly intriguing from a Foreign Service perspective. This is in no way where I was going with this blog post, but let’s follow this train of thought. I always knew I was good at reasoning, deduction and pattern recognition, if you go back and search in my blog for “variables” “options” or “possible” you’ll find quite a few posts spanning the years. I always knew this was how my brain worked, but didn’t realize it until recently. Which lead me to remember the Baader-Meinhof concept: “Baader-Meinhof is the phenomenon where one happens upon some obscure piece of information–often an unfamiliar word or name–and soon afterwards encounters the same subject again, often repeatedly.” It’s because our brains love patterns and we are always looking for patterns in the chaos. From my Hi-Lab (higher level language aptitude test) results, I know that my brain is seemingly extra hard wired for processing patterns. And now that I’m conscious of my own ability (also related to Baader-Meinhof, see how that works), I’ve become conscious of how my brain is processing the information. Before, I would just let my brain run and do it’s thing, such as with the decision to take the German test in January, a seemingly arbitrary month. But now, it’s like I have a window into what my brain is doing, as if I could watch it process variables, analyze patterns, and make decisions or inferences based on the information I have at hand.

To me it is like a tree. At first, I see the whole tree with every leaf, twig, branch. I notice the color of the leaves, how tall it is, and it’s shape. Then I look closer and focus on only one branch. It is as if I were trying to identify the species of the tree without having any prior knowledge of arboriculture. From the branch, I then look at the whole structure of the branch again. Then I dig deeper, looking at individual leaves and twigs. Then I start to prune away the branches until I have just a part of the tree left, the part that has all the information I need. Then I may have two or three ideas of what it might be. I take one last look, make a decision, but then immediately explain to myself my reasoning. Being very careful to acknowledge the variables and biases that influenced my decision, including my lack of knowledge. And most of this happens in the span of 30 seconds, maximum.

So when I decided to take my German test in January, I never thought to myself “why do I want to take this test?” I only thought to myself “when is the most advantageous time.” I knew that they were changing the test format in January. I also knew that I’d be in Arabic for 8-9 months. I knew that my German was rusty. I knew that I would have a few weeks of no class in December. I also knew that near the end of my Arabic studies, the pressure would be higher. I knew that I get a form of test anxiety. I also knew that I needed to pass my Arabic test. January was the only time that made sense to me, after looking at all those variables and factors. I never once considered how the German test would affect me stress-wise or emotionally. Those are non-factors in my brain. I’m hard-wired for rational, which is in fact thanks to the half of me that is German. A pretty big chunk of the reason why I decided to take the German test was because I knew it would help me prepare for the Arabic test.

So what am I getting at with all this rambling? I feel like this experience is very indicative of how my brain works. Right now I’m mildly stressing out about my German test, but I know that it doesn’t matter. That doesn’t stop the stress though. I can be conscious of what is going on in my brain, but I can’t necessarily change it’s course. I am mildly stressed because I want to do well on a test. Why? Because I grew up in an environment that emphasized achievement. I can be completely rational about a decision, but that does not mean it still doesn’t impact me in other ways. One of the reasons I decided to take the German test was directly correlated to preparing me for a future possibility. I found a way to better position myself for a future event, therefore I was willing to put myself through a bit of hardship in order to simply feel prepared. Which is exactly what I’ve done my entire life, I’ve always looked past the present hardships towards a simpler future. Consciously and unconsciously, I’m always trying to set myself up for success, even at the expense of present comfort.

But the beauty is that Peace Corps taught me that present hardship is not in fact hardship. It is all perspective: “this too shall pass.” Everything we do in life is a lesson for the future. We learn from our mistakes and successes and grow. We decide to take the difficult route (while finding the best route through the difficulties, at least I do) because that’s where we find our strength. I am not purposefully inflicting German language pain upon myself, I am doing this because I know that it will have a positive influence on my own peace of mind when the stakes are higher with Arabic, when it really counts. And my brain knows that is what I need. But that doesn’t mean I have to let German completely stress me out, in fact I quite enjoy switching back to something familiar. I’ve been so deep into Arabic for the past 4 months, it feels nice to step into something reassuring again.

With language you never know what progress you are making, so it is easy to feel discouraged. But through this process of attempting German and Arabic at the same time, I found a small confidence in myself. I was able to translate an article from German into Arabic in class on Friday, having been off for 2 weeks. I didn’t translate into English, I went directly from German to Arabic. And you know what? That was pretty damn cool. Even though I am still too embarrassed and lacking in confidence to speak German in front of people I find intimidating, I found a bit of confidence in class on Friday, the bit I needed. Then I made an incredibly elaborate German meal: Jaegerschnitzel completely from scratch. I made the breadcrumbs, I made the sauce, I even had to have a lengthy conversation with a Whole Foods butcher to get the cut of veal I wanted. It reminded me of my Oma and how proud she would have been that I actually pulled off the perfect schnitzel.

I think she’d be proud of what I’ve accomplished so far as well, besides the schnitzel. So even when language kicks my ass, whichever language it is, I can’t lose sight of the purpose and my reason for doing this. I’m doing this because I am lucky enough to have the coolest job on earth.

Hashtag singleladyproblems

As my birthday creeps closer, a few thoughts have been dancing around my head. Mainly about how being a single woman deserves a tax break. Okay listen up married friends, remember when you got married all these random people showed up to this giant party you threw? Remember how they brought you presents and basically decked out your kitchen with cool shit? Have you ever tried to throw a dinner party without working knives or without a pan to cook your food in? Yeah, it doesn’t work out so well. So, while all of you married people are off being married and stuff, getting tax breaks for suffering with someone’s smelly bathroom habits and having two incomes, us single people have to buy our own kitchen crap. No, we don’t have to pay for little minions running around obsessing over Disney films and their eventual college tuition, but we, the single people, have to own a range of quality wines so that when people come over we can impress them with our knowledge of fermented grapes. We don’t have to pay for kids, but we have to host parties that last all night multiple times a month so as to keep our social cup full. And then, when you can’t get reservations to the fancy restaurant you want to go to for your birthday, you have to host a dinner party for yourself. Do you have any idea the burden it is to plan, cook, prepare, and decorate for your own birthday celebration? You spend more money cooking for yourself and a group of friends than you would just going out. Why? Because, anything less would be unacceptable. It’s either fancy restaurant or dinner party that will blow people’s minds. Being a single woman is tough, expensive, and somehow still socially unacceptable. There are no registries for “I’ve made it in the world” just for weddings and baby showers. But you know what we do have? Lots of fluffy sweaters from J.Crew, a shitton of throw pillows, and candles that smell like the South.

And the random nice skillet because your dinner party dictates the size of your skillet.

#firstworldproblems

Preparations Have Begun

Everything is moving so fast now. Well, sort of. Tasks are moving along quickly, but it is as if time has come to a stand still. Luckily, I experienced this phenomenon many times during my Peace Corps service. Sunday will be my last day working at Whole Foods. I decided to spend my last month before I join the Foreign Service with friends, family, and relaxing. Let’s be honest, when am I going to have that chance again? I’m going to take the time to pack at my own pace and go into my A-100 class stress-free. As far as that’s possible.

I still can’t believe this is happening. I realized the other day that I feel lighter. Simply lighter. Not only has this great weight been lifted off my shoulders, but my heart just feels whole. Like I was missing something for so long and now it beats at full strength. Like I just leveled up and achieved all the max hit and talent points. I’m adding this as a major gold star in my achievement list. But I thought about it a bit and realized, now what? What’s my next dream going to be? What’s going to push me for the next 10 years? I think I’ll use the A-100 class and training to help develop that goal further. Because you know, never stop aiming for the top, a dream is a wish your heart makes, hold fast to dreams, the future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams, and all that jazz. Can’t stop, won’t stop.

And back to preparations…

I’ve started collecting a few things that I know I’ll need to make my future government-provided, fully furnished house a home. I know two things are for certain: I like to feel comfortable in my space and I want to entertain. There are little comforts that make a huge difference when it comes to making your space feel like yours. For me that includes my Ghana collections and scents. Alright let me explain. Everything I brought back from Ghana has a story. And many of those stories instantly whisk me away to an experience that either makes me cry tears of happiness or swell with smiles of crazy memories. These are my artifacts. And then scents. For me, I remember the smell of places. My aunt’s house always smelled like what a house should smell like, welcoming, inviting, and friendly. So I bought some candles, just a few that smell like home to me: beets and honeysuckle. Not together. Beets sounds weird, but I grew up eating pickled herring and eel on a stick. The smell of beets just smells like a kitchen to me. And if I’m posted in some far off land that looks and feels as far from home as possible, at least I’ll have a few things that will make me feel like my house truly is my home.

That’s how I romantically justify my trip to Anthropolgie.

Additionally, I made use of my Whole Foods Team Member discount to stock up on spices. The elusive little ingredients that make all things better.

And to add to my kitchen, I finally bought plates. Real plates. Plates that are not made from plastic and found in the dollar section at Target. I’m officially an adult now.

 

 

So basically, the summarize this post: I’m obsessing over the small details of this big move, because that’s what I do. Details are my thing. And I’m sure next year when I am having colleagues over for wine and cheese they will appreciate the fact that I have 12 salad plates. I aim to please.

The Peace Corps Food Cycle

Most Peace Corps Volunteers are familiar with the 27 month cycle, an incredibly useful handout for understanding what you are going through during each stage of your service. As we all know, I’m obsessed with food. So I decided to create a 27 month chart based on the widely circulated one, but including our food cycle. Some months are much harder for food cravings, but after about 16 months I didn’t crave American food anymore. Now that I’m at the end, I’m taking the advice of another PCV and eating as much local food as possible. When’s the next time I’ll be able to eat banku and groundnut soup in America?

 

Month	Issues	Behavior/Reaction	Intervention
1	Depart America Disorientation Health	Intense desire for chocolate Disgust at local foods Curiosity about snack foods available	Visit local shop and buy random food Eat lots of hardboiled eggs and peanut butter
2	Too much structure Host family won’t adapt food or it is too much Weight gain	Cravings begin First cry over local food Hunger Restlessness	Teach host family how to make an American food Smuggle food to the pets at night Be frank with host family Dip into your American food stash
3-6	Separation/solitude Uncertainty Cooking for yourself anxiety	Excitement over control of food Determination to eat healthy Cravings are minimized	Create a healthy diet plan for site Befriend market ladies for deals Indulge in American food occasionally
7-10	Slow work progress Cross cultural frustration Food depression	Food homesickness Local food tolerance plateau Intense food cravings	Splurge and make a big American meal Experiment with locally available food and American style cooking Request care packages
11-15	Mid Service Crisis New trainees arrive	Constant complaining Tendency to overeat Lethargy	Revisit healthy diet plan Try cooking local recipes Cook with local family Food party for one year anniversary
16-20	Awareness of time constraints Project work Food apathy	Diminished food cravings Disappointment Procrastination Local food plateau	Focus on relationships in town Visit new volunteers Teach new volunteers how to cook PC style food Try new food from the market
21-23	Demanding work pace Prep for COS Depression about lack of accomplishments	Panic Moodiness Continued food apathy Food cravings almost gone	Eat local foods Station food roulette – eat the first thing that passes you Indulge in chocolate
23-27	Trauma of departure Bridging identities Food excitement	Food cravings resume Anxiety about weight gain Panic	Plan out first meals when home Work out Eat as much local food as possible

From Tree to Tummy: a cashew’s journey

Ever wonder how that cashew in your mixed nuts got there? Ever walked through the grocery aisle and wondered why cashew nuts are so expensive? Well here’s the scoop on how one small nut goes from a tree in Ghana to your pantry.

Cashews grow on trees. Like so:

The farmer then walks around his farm and picks up the nuts that have fallen on the ground. That’s how you know the nut is mature. The nut is attached to an apple which is removed. The farmer then takes his cashew and dries it on the ground.

After it has dried for at least a day, the farmer takes his cashew nuts to an agent. The agent weighs the bag of cashews and calculates the amount of money he will give him based on current prices.

For example, this year the highest price per kilogram was about $0.55.
Consider a normal sized container of cashews, they are typically 225g (8oz.).
That means 225g = $0.13.

Okay, so now the farmer has been paid for his cashew. The agent collects cashew nuts at a buying station, until he has enough bags to load a truck. Now, the buyer (who has hired the agent) sends a truck to the buying station. Using a few very strong men, the truck is loaded. Each bag of cashew weighs about 85kg or 187lbs. Two men lift opposite sides of the bag and place it on another man’s head. That man walks the bag to the truck and slides it off to the guy packing the truck. Once the truck is full, it heads to the warehouse.

At the warehouse, the cashew is dumped onto a large tarp or slab of concrete. Here the cashew is dried again to ensure it will not spoil while being stored. The bags are refilled and stacked on wooden pallets for storage. When the buyer is ready to ship another truckload of cashews to a processor or a customer, he again loads a truck.

If the cashew is not being processed in Ghana, it is sent to the city of Tema, a large port. At the port, the bags of cashew are immediately off-loaded into shipping containers. The shipping containers are then loaded onto a vessel for transport to India, Vietnam, or Brazil. Once they reach dry land again, the containers are offloaded and the bags are transferred to a truck. The truck then hauls the cashew nuts to a processor.

The cashew kernel (the part you eat) is encased in a tough outer shell. Now that the cashew nuts are being stored at a processing plant, they go through quite a few more steps.

1. Roasting – cashews are roasted using steam to make the shell brittle and easier to crack.

2. Shelling – using a stick or a cracking machine, the outer shell is cut. Gloves or oil is placed on the hands during this process. Inside the shell is a liquid similar to poison ivy. When it touches your hands it starts to burn, so precautions must be taken. The kernel is removed from the outer shell during this process. Some companies do this by hand or use a machine that shakes the kernel out. Kernels that are whole and undamaged are worth considerably more than halves or split nuts.

3. Drying – prior to this stage, the kernels may be sorted based on size. The kernels are then dried in a giant oven. This takes about 6-8 hours.

4. Tesla removal – just like peanuts have an outer papery shell, so does the cashew. This is removed by hand using a scrapping tool.

5. Grading – nuts are then sorted and separated based on their grade. Here are some grades:
180 (very large whole kernels) – the most expensive grade
210
240
320 (smaller whole kernels)
Halves
Splits
Butts
Pieces – one of the cheapest grades (Most jars of cashews you’ll find in the supermarket are halves and pieces mixed together.)

6. Packaging – cashews are then vacuum sealed and placed into boxes for shipping. Each box weighs around 40-50lbs.

At this point, the cashews are again loaded onto trucks for transport to another customer. This time the customer is a roaster. The cashews are again offloaded into shipping containers and shipped to America for instance.

In America, the shipping containers are transported by truck or sometimes train to the roaster. The roaster receives the boxes of cashews and immediately freezes them. This ensures anything potentially living in any of those boxes (hopefully not, but this is America we triple check everything) dies. The boxes are then emptied into a giant container. The nuts then proceed down a canal of sorts. Air is blown against the nuts, to help separate any foreign materials from the nuts. They proceed down an assembly line of checks to make sure the cashew nuts are free from any bugs or other random objects.

The kernels are now ready to be roasted. This is done using giant vats of hot oil. Apparently, the kernels travel through a hot oil vortex! After the kernel is lightly roasted, flavorings are added. This can include salt, sugar, or perhaps chili powder. If the nuts are being added to a trail mix, they continue down a conveyor belt and meet up with the other ingredients. Nuts are then dropped into containers, sealed, and a lid is placed atop.

The packages of cashews are then again boxed, and ready for distribution to the next customer. This customer may include some big name stores, or a food distributor. They may be stored again in a warehouse. The jars of cashew are then delivered to a store, stocked, and lastly purchased by the final customer. You.

The final container of 225g of cashew might cost you $3.50, but after all the miles that cashew nut has logged, you should be grateful it isn’t sending you an expense report.

There you have it, the incredibly long journey a cashew takes from a farm in Ghana to your grocery store.

Palm Nut Soup (Abɛnkwan)

Palm Nuts are the red fleshy nuts that grow on royal palm trees. They are harvested in a large bunch and come in small and large sizes. Palm Nut Oil is widely used in West Africa as the local oil of choice when cooking. Although many people are switching to vegetable and sunflower oils. Palm nut oil is rich in vitamin A and is extremely bad for you. Palm nut oil has a rich, heavy taste.

Palm nut soup is somewhat of a delicacy in my parts. It isn’t made as often, why I don’t know. South of Wenchi palm nuts are much more readily available and the oil is consumed more.

Palm nut soup is hands down my favorite soup in Ghana. It is rich in flavor, heavy, and slippery. It is beyond hearty and extremely enjoyable, but definitely an acquired taste. Within minutes of consuming palm nut soup, your stomach will begin to gurgle and you may find yourself running to the bathroom. All that oil is having a nice effective on your intestines. Despite the setbacks, palm nut soup with chicken and fufu remains my favorite meal.

And here’s how it is made:

First things first, you need to add charcoal to your coal pot and get the fire going.

The palm nuts have been boiled along with these green berries which are similar to garden eggs and red peppers. They were boiled for 25 minutes, just long enough to get them soft.

The palm nuts are then placed into a special mortar made for palm nuts, agushi, and other smaller items.

Using a small pounder, you pound the palm nuts into submission.

While one person pounds the palm nuts, the other is preparing the soup. Chicken, water, maggi cube, tin tomatoes, salt, and red onions form the simple base to the soup.

 

After the palm nuts are pounded into their fleshy, stringy selves they are added to boiling water.

The fleshy part is then squeezed so that the juicy goodness comes out.

A little bit of straining and the palm nut juice is added to the soup

 

The soup then boils for about an hour until the palm nut oil comes up to the top. You can strain the oil off the top or keep it. We prefer to keep it. You know just to keep everything moving. The deep red is the palm nut oil.

Add the soup to fufu (which was also being made concurrently).

The final product:

You have to eat it with your hands, especially so you can look like an axe murder.

Delicious palm nut soup! Fairly easy to make, but time and labor intensive. We started at 3 and I finished eating at 6.

In case you are wondering, you can’t make this in America. I’ve been told palm nut oil isn’t allowed to be imported. So I assume palm nuts aren’t either. So if you want a true taste of Africa, you gotta fly over here.

Hermanus (or my dream town)

Travelling from Stellenbosch to Hermanus was a real treat. We climbed through mountains, snaked through the clouds, and passed vineyards on our way to this seaside retreat. The bus dropped me off at a different town, where a shuttle came and picked us up. The first thing I noticed was the super cute dog who came to greet us. The dog jumped into the front seat, but then knowing I was a dog person, stared at me, jumped down and crawled into my lap. The dog slept in my lap for the 30 minute ride to the hostel.

The hostel I stayed at, the Hermanus Backpacker, was amazing. Inside it looked like the coziest house imaginable. I loved all the bright colors, windows, and sofas. It was perfect. The staff was super friendly and I felt instantly welcome. I headed into town to go exploring before my whale watching boat tour.

I looked up this cool place to eat and I was pretty determined to find it and consume some seafood there. So I walked to the center of town and I fell in love. It had the perfect little square right next to the cliffs overlooking the ocean. Rocky crags and grassy knolls. Beautiful. I quickly found the place I wanted for lunch. The stairs down into the cave were incredibly inviting and I knew this was going to be a good meal. The kitchen didn’t open for another 30 minutes so I grabbed a table near the cliff and settled for a glass of wine and patience. This girl was ready to eat, so I ordered a giant platter of food. As I sat waiting for my food I watched as whales surfaced just a football field away from my table.

Then my food came.

And I only had eyes for it. Do you see that? Do you see that the platter of food is the epitome of food for me? Greek salad (favorite). Fresh grilled fish, giant prawns, calamari, mussels, and french fries. Honestly, this is one of my favorite meals of all time. Seafood extravaganza! I ate all of it, minus the fries. I nibbled on those. Oh yeah there was rice down there too. I devoured my meal and then waddled my way along the coast back to my hostel. I grabbed my camera, and headed off to the boat tour.

The 30 minute walk to the wharf was amazing. The houses were dreamy, the view was breath taking. Everything about it called to me. It kept saying: “move here….live here….you know you are enamored.” I stopped and gapped at the flowers. I took picture after picture. With every second, I fell more in love with the place.

A thatch roof cottage is my dream home. When I saw this place I almost cried. It is an inn, don’t worry I have plans to stay there again in my future. Finally, I made it to the wharf and I boarded my boat headed to whale territory. It didn’t take long before we saw whales. Maybe 10 minutes. And that’s all the time it took for people to start getting sea sick. And bad. Half the boat was projectile vomiting overboard. I chilled up top, gazing at the beautiful Southern Right Whales that were putting on a show for us.

We saw probably between 10-15 whales, maybe more. One was Albino and that was pretty damn cool. Most of the time they were in pairs or here at the end there were 4 of them. They got incredibly close to the boat, passing right in front of the bow even. I was so impressed with how loud they were. Whenever they breathed it sounded like a water pipe valve releasing pressure. It was absolutely incredible. I loved every minute of it. Seeing such giant, gentle creatures that close in the wild, was fascinating. When I was a little girl I wanted to be a marine biologist/or dolphin trainer, so being close to whales was a true treat for me. I also wanted to be a naval architect and ship captain, so just being on a boat was also nice. (Revealing a secret here! Some days I still wish that I would have gone to naval school.)

After the 3 hour boat tour, I walked back to the hostel. The sun was about to set and the light was casting glorious shadows and hugging every flower. It looked like the whole scene was painted by Monet. That evening I joined the locals and fellow guests in a South African holiday tradition, it was Heritage Day, which is Braai day. Everyone barbeques on Heritage Day and oh hell yeah I was eating steak.

I got my steak and it was a big, fat, juice hunk of meat. It was accompanied by a salad and baked potato which I then lathered in Ranch Dressing (no seriously the plate was swimming in ranch). Even though I ate a giant platter of seafood earlier in the day, I ate every single bite of that meal. Do you have any idea how Ranch Dressing reinvigorates this girl? It is like giving water to Aquaman or having Superman get some sun rays. Like Iron Man getting a new core. It was like I was a new person, I was ready to take on the world. So naturally I passed out and slept soundly, ready for the next day, which would prove to be life-changing.