Ethiopia – an unexpected meal

    Monday, July 12

    As we piled back into our white Toyota Landcruiser and waved goodbye to the children of Sheber A Ber Primary School, we thought we were headed back to Addis Ababa.

    Mecona, our driver, had other instructions. Suddenly, he veered left, crossed a ditch and started driving across a grassy field. He turned left again, through the opening of a large walled compound, and stopped. We were at the home of Mesganu Arga’s father, staring at the largest, most imposing tukul we had ever seen.

    The tukul where Mesganu Arga's parents live.

    Mesganu has built a modern home for his parents nearby, but they prefer living in the traditional way. Their thatched-roof tukul is luxurious compared to most rural Ethiopian homes. It is richly appointed, with heavy, wood-paneled walls (instead of mud and straw). A thick wall partition divides the round inner space in half, separating the living/sleeping area from the cooking area, which we did not see. An open fire pit commands the center of the living area; beautiful woven rugs cover the floors and thick cushions offer comfortable seating.

    A young man came around with a pitcher of water, a bowl and some soap so we could wash our hands. As it became clear that a meal was about to be served, I looked nervously at Keri deGuzman. Was it safe to eat the food? This home was lovely and welcoming but had no running water, no toilets and no electricity. Food was cooked over an open fire; the acrid smell of smoke was pervasive. Flies, attracted by the cooking smells (and the goats wandering curiously past the front door), buzzed around our faces.

    Brian deGuzman washes his hands before the meal.

    Before I came to Ethiopia, I’d been warned by my physician and all the guidebooks about the dangers of contracting disease from unsanitary water and food. Even in this upscale version of rural life, was I asking for trouble if I ate this unexpected meal? And yet how could I refuse this generous family’s hospitality?

    Keri, too, was concerned, raising her eyes as the first dish — a soft, homemade cow’s milk cheese surrounding a dab of cooked cabbage — arrived. Mesganu, ever the perceptive and gracious host, assured us that it would be okay, but also told us that, if we preferred, we could wait for later courses that would be “very, very cooked.”

    Brian had already decided to go for it and was scooping up bits of cheese and cabbage with pieces of “false banana” bread — a starchy and slightly sweet flatbread made from the roots and leaves of a banana-like plant. His enthusiastic response to the flavors and his lack of concern about potential health risks (he’s a cardiac surgeon, after all!) encouraged both Keri and me to put our fears aside.

    Cheese, cabbage and false banana bread.

    The dish was wonderful — the cheese salty and mild, the cooked cabbage lightly spiced. But it was just the beginning. Plate after plate of savory meats soon began to arrive, including what Keri described as “the best grilled lamb I’ve ever had.”

    Mesganu showed us how to hold the pieces of meat between the thumb and forefinger, slicing it through the middle to make smaller, bite-size portions. Then he asked Brian for permission to feed Keri. As he placed a morsel of meat into Keri’s mouth, he explained that this gesture indicates the highest form of acceptance and respect. Then he proceeded to feed me, too.

    Mesganu slices a piece of lamb before feeding it to Keri deGuzman.

    The meal concluded, as many in Ethiopia do, with a coffee ceremony. Coffee beans were roasted over hot coals then ground; the rich black coffee was served in small brown cups and an accompanying dish of roasted peas was passed around to finish off the meal.

    Coffee is served to guests, including Zerihun (left), who works with Christian World Adoption, the agency the deGuzmans have used to adopt all four of their Ethiopia-born children.

    I could see the anxious signs of a mother craving time with her children. Keri knew we still had a two-hour drive back to Addis Ababa, where Tesfanesh and Mintesinot Solomon waited at the Danish guest house in the care of an Ethiopian nanny. So we made the rounds, thanking our hosts and moving slowly toward the car awaiting us outside.

    Keri, who knows the customs of this generous country well, was prepared with gifts. She brought out an official World Cup soccer ball for the children of the compound and a new-baby gift for Mesganu and his wife, who are expecting their first child very soon.

    It was very quiet in the car on the way back to Addis. As our driver honked warnings and dodged dogs, goats, cattle and children occupying the road, his exhausted passengers slept.

    Roasted peas were served with coffee to finish off the meal.

     

    Mesganu Arga

     

    Members of Mesganu Arga
    The official World Cup soccer ball that Keri brought from the U.S. was a hit.

     

    This beautiful child, described as the nephew of one of Mesganu