Today, I again received the opportunity to practice eating Somali food... with my hands. The right hand is the fork, knife and spoon, which means that I have had to master the art of eating spaghetti, rice, camel and goat all with my right hand, without any assistance from my left. My gracious friends, mentioning that I was not eating enough, chuckled when I told them that I couldn't eat any faster, because I lacked the skill to scoop up the tasty morsels into my mouth. Regardless, the experience made for some good memories. The TV blared in the background; an Islamic version of Pat Robertson who hailed from India spoke about the importance of Muslims effectively utilizing the media to advance their message on the "Peace Channel." Many family members of my student stopped by to greet me, and confirm that this white guy actually knew some of the Somali language.
I certainly reveled in the opportunity to spend an entire afternoon speaking Somali, as pieces of rice dribbled all over my jeans, shirt and face. At the end of the meal, I even had the chance to drink some camel milk for the first time in my life! (If you're wondering, it is thick, rich and filled with sugar, satisfying Somalis' unquenchable sweet tooth.) Our conversation bounced among many topics, but hovered on politics and Somali culture. At one point, we chatted about how a militant group was methodically killing Somali Christians; I explained that I believed that it was wrong to kill someone based on their convictions. It was a good day.
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