Trips to the "bush" and cow meat soup

You cannot rebuild a health system sitting at the central ministry in the capital (Monrovia), you gotta travel out and see what's going on in the interior. In my quest to explore the state of affairs in the counties and villages, I travel often. One such trip was to Lofa County. The capital of Lofa is Voinjama, a small town quite far from Monrovia. Located only a few minutes from the Liberia-Guinea border, Voinjama is a small but busy town in the middle of the jungle. It took us 8 hours to get there, mainly because of bad road conditions... and that's during the dry season. It takes longer once the rainy season starts. Sometimes we stop in one of the towns on the way, stay overnight, and continue the next day. The road is paved only till Gbarnga (3 hours north west of Monrovia), and then it is dirt road. The local slang for all villages is "bush". Locals say "bah! you gone to the bush?". "Bah" is a term of endearment, meaning friend. Liberian English is a language of its own, with varying dialects and pronunciation. I have to switch gears between the drivers, my staff, and the housekeeper. One of my staff even speaks a mixture of English and Mano (a local language), making it difficult for me to understand what he is saying. But, I have gotten better at it. I now understand 75% of what he says, it used to be 20%.

The paved road is nothing to talk about, just an old road that is ridden with pot holes. I wonder if some of the potholes are from the heavy rains or remnants of bombings during the civil war. I do not recommend anyone with back problems travel on these roads, you will need spinal surgery after a few trips. It is interesting to watch our drivers maneuver through these huge pot holes... most of the times we end up off-roading while I cling on to my dear life by holding on to the railing in our Land Cruiser. I pity all our vehicles, they take such beating when we go to the bush. The dirt road, on the other hand, is a beauty. The soil in Liberia is very fertile with a red hue, almost rust-like. Our white vehicles return looking rust-colored after every trip. It is quite beautiful driving on a red dirt road surrounded by thick green jungle interrupted by rivers and streams with the occasional goat or monkey jumping on to the road... it almost looks like a painting.

The red dirt road to Voinjama

The soil is so fertile that villagers have to burn the brush so it doesn't grow back within days. Cutting the brush won't do, you gotta burn in to the ground. Even then, new sprouts arise within days. A mixture of perfect tropical weather for vegetation, heavy rains, and fertile soil makes Liberia a heaven for plan growth. Unfortunately, this natural resource has not been  harvested to grow food for the population. Prior to the war, Liberia used to export rice, now 85% of food is imported. Various international organizations are helping rebuild the agriculture infrastructure.

Before going on one of my trips to the bush I was informed of a restaurant in Gbarnga by fellow expats. Even my drivers sung high praises of this restaurant. I wanted to check it out and we stopped for lunch. They had only one dish that day - cow meat soup. That's how it is in the bush, people serve what they get on that particular day. Some days it is nothing. I always carry Clif bars with me because you never know if you will get food in the bush. Shout out to my pal Lissner who taught me the wonders of Clif bars. Even though he tried to get me to like the white chocolate macadamia flavor, I prefer the dark chocolate flavor. Anyway, I digress.

My staff and I sit down and order the only option we have. By this time, after two months of living in Liberia, I have come to accept the fact that it is normal to find mystery meat in your food. Liberians do not understand the concept of cooking or cuisine, they dump everything they can lay their hands on in a pot and cook it. As I talked in my previous posts, expect to find anything from feet, fat, and organs to meat, skin, and other unidentifiable parts of an animal. When in Rome...

We sit down and wait for our cow meat soup. The waitress assured me it is cow meat. That doesn't mean anything in Liberia. You always get a melange of animals regardless of what they tell you. So, here comes this cow meat soup. What Liberians call soup is actually stew. Looks like chunks of meat+fat floating in an oily stew. Fine, it is not any different from other stuff I've eaten. Remember my post about Lowise's restaurant and palm butter? Well, that was one of the many instances.

Cow meat soup - meat and other stuff swimming in oil

I dig in to my oily stew, scoop out a spoonful on the plate of rice that comes with the stew (everything comes with rice or fufu). Halfway through my meal I notice strands of short thick hair. Eh, this is nothing. At least it is not a dead roach. I pick the hair out of my food and continue eating while pondering where the hair came from. Then I receive the answer to my pondering. In the second spoonful, I notice a chunk of cow hair sticking to the skin. Ah, so this is not just cow meat soup, it is cow hair soup as well. The culprit is a piece of cow skin with a tuft of hair still attached to it. I look at it and wonder which part of the cow it came from? Is it the hump, the tail, leg, which part? Should I call it leather instead of skin because it has been cooked to death? Looking at the length of the hair, it could be the skin from a cow's tail or back. I am posting a picture of a smaller chunk of hair, because even I couldn't stomach the idea of taking a picture of the larger tuft of hair (yes, there were more than one chunks of hair). Notice the lone strand of hair on the side and a small tuft of hair sticking to a piece of skin, next to the rice.

Hair sticking to cow skin, a lone strand of cow hair, and a burnt matchstick - all in one spoonful

Then there was a burnt matchstick in my food. Oh well, at least I didn't get coal. I take out the piece of skin/leather with hair, the matchstick, and continue eating my soup. I am not going to stop a little tuft of cow hair and burnt match ruin my lunch. I may have eaten some strands of hair here and there, but my stomach can easily digest that. Hell, it has digested worse things, what's a little hair going to do? Three of us finish eating, pay our bill, and I left the tuft of cow hair on my plate. Nary a word from my staff. They noticed the chunk of hair, but it didn't bother them. I assumed from their reaction (or absence thereof) it is common to have animal hair in your food. Once again, when in Rome...

We finish lunch, continue on our journey to Voinjama with bellies filled with cow meat and hair soup. Once in Voinjama, I had the best food I've had since I moved to Liberia. I discovered the United Nations Pakistani battalion in Voinjama. They let outsiders eat in their "officers' canteen". I had the most amazing Pakistani/ Indian food prepared by Pakistani chefs. Chicken jalfrezi, lamb korma, naan, dal, vegetable pulav, the list goes on. More about them in the next post.

Lowise's Bar & Restaurant and the glory of palm butter

I love everything about food. I like knowing where it comes from, how it is prepared, what ingredients go in a particular dish, the smells, the taste, the experience, everything. I should be morbidly obese considering my love for food, but I've managed to stay in shape because I practice mindful bingeing. It is a delicate balance of being cognizant of what I eat and eating copious amounts of food frequently.

I could be like most expats here and bring my own lunch (sandwiches anyone?), but I like to experience local flavor and explore. Most of my local staff eat at a place called Lowise's Restaurant (yes, that is how it is spelled). It is pronounced Louise. I have been eating at Lowise's for almost a month with no problems. I usually have someone fetch it for me because I am running in between meetings or buried in papers, but once in a while I walk over and eat at Lowise's. It is only a block away from my office. The restaurant serves only one special every day. They have the standard dish - dry fish and rice - and one daily special. I can never remember the schedule of daily specials, but I particularly like some of the specials. Cabbage with fish, and potato greens with fish are my favorite. I specify fish because if you don't, you will end up with a melange of meat in your dish. I have identified pork knuckles, beef rib tips, chicken feet, and fish heads...all in one bowl. As adventurous as I am, I prefer to eat one kind of meat at a time. I am not a big fan of beef, I prefer my pork in the form of bacon and pork belly, and I like my chicken feet in black bean sauce (dim sum). So, I stick to ordering my dishes with fish alone. Liberians tend to use almost every part of an animal, so expect to see fish heads, fins, tail, pretty much everything in a dish. Here is a picture of the daily standard dish - dry fish and rice. They say it is dry fish, but it is a whole fish, usually a snapper, deep fried and served with jollof rice. It is quite delicious, if I may say. Look at the teeth on that fish. One of my friends said it looks angry. Of course it is angry, it's been fried to death!

Dry fish and rice

Let's talk about Lowise's Bar & Restaurant. It is quite dingy, inside and out, but the food is good. Service varies by day. I have seen the same lady serve us patrons. Some days she is cheerful and makes small talk, some days she is just plain grumpy and mean. She looks young, talks on the phone a lot when she is not serving, and on some days her accent is difficult to understand. She adds charm to an otherwise dull restaurant. The music is always loud at Lowise's, almost to the point where you have to scream your order. I have suggested a few times they may want to tone it down, but they don't listen. Now I just scream my order. One of these days I hope to catch a glimpse of Lowise. All I know is that she is cooking in the back, she never makes an appearance in the restaurant. As the name suggests, there is a bar inside. It is quite small and they carry beer, water, soft drinks, and energy drinks. I don't drink at work, so I haven't tried any beer. Below is a picture of Lowise's restaurant. I have to give credit to Michael for taking this picture.

Lowise's  Bar & Restaurant

Today's daily special is palm butter. I have heard a lot about this dish since arriving in Liberia. Locals claim that, even though you can find this dish in other African countries, nobody makes it like the Liberians. Beautiful red palm fruits are mashed to create an oily sauce and meat is added. The mashing is done with hands, not a machine. Needless to say, it is a laborious process. As you may know, palm oil is very high in cholesterol. It is not good for your heart, but like most stuff that is not good for you, it is very tasty. The dish is called palm butter, because it practically is meat in a sauce that looks like melted butter. Very unhealthy but oh so tasty! I avoided it since arriving in Liberia because I am afraid of the fat content. I finally caved in and ordered it. I saw the table next to me order it and it looked and smelled delicious. My verdict: it is glorious, but too heavy for my arteries. I may have it once a year. I want to live long enough to visit various countries.

Here is a picture of the culprit. I scooped out SEVEN tablespoons of palm oil before taking this picture, and it still looks greasy. That should tell you how unhealthy it is. As mentioned earlier, there is some mystery meat in it because I forgot to mention "fish only". I was not able to figure out the meat, for all I know it is a part of a cow or Baboon (which is not uncommon here). Did I eat it all, including the mystery meat? You betcha!

Palm butter with mystery meat

In other news, Michael and I went to Miami Beach over the weekend. As I mentioned to my friend who lives near the real Miami Beach, the one in Liberia differs from the one in Florida in two aspects: amount of silicone and number of people. Usually it is just Michael and I on the beach, except for some days when someone brings their dogs to the beach (see picture below). There was a football (soccer for you Americans) match happening on the beach when we went, just a few guys kicking the ball around. We stayed for a while until the sun became intense and came back home.

Dog days at the beach

There is a bar on Miami Beach, which plays dance music at a deafening level all the time. As we were leaving the beach, the bar owner came over and talked to us. His name is Sunshine. I am not kidding. We didn't stay at the bar, but Sunshine invited us to come back again in the evening. One of these days we will take him up on the invitation.

A lot is happening on the work front. I got promoted as the Director of Capacity Building and Health Systems Strengthening in less than 2 months of being here. With promotion comes more tasks, drama, and the responsibility to supervise more staff. I realize it is part of the equation and I am thoroughly enjoying all of it. I will write more about work in the next post. Till then, cheers to palm butter!