Adam's Piment or the "Best the Village's Ever Had"

It seems everywhere we go there's some local spicy condiment that everyone swears by.

In Congo it's pilli pilli. In Rwanda it's Akabanga. Thailand's got sriracha. Here in Burkina it's piment. A few months ago Adam went on a trip to Bobo-Dioulasso, a little over 5 hours from where we live in Ouagadougou.

When he returned all he could talk about was the piment he had there at a friend's house.

So over the holidays we passed through Bobo-Dioulasso and made a mandatory stop to ask for the recipe. Clare, the keeper of the recipe, explained the details directly to me. Because surely I would be the one preparing the piment for my helpless husband.

Back in Ouaga Adam asked his favorite roadside vegetable vendor lady for an oversize bag of yellow peppers. Now veggie lady is already pretty amused that Adam's the household grocery shopper and chef, so when he explained he was making piment, she lost it. So much so that he promised to bring some back to her to prove it.

Adam was obligated to teach Anastasie because she took a sample of his first batch back to her village, and delivered the message back to him that it was "the best piment they've ever had."

I claim classic buttering up of the foreigner, but Adam's convinced he's the piment king of the village.

Forthwith the proof and the recipe for Adam's Piment Jaune Écrasé (a variation of the original from Clare):

Ingredients:

1 bowl of small hot peppers (seeds removed) - these are locally grown Ojemmas, similar to Habaneros
1 green pepper
8 cloves garlic
1 bunch parsley
3 Tbsp vegetable oil
1 Tbsp coarse salt 
1 tsp vinegar
1 tsp mustard

Add yellow and green peppers, garlic, parsley and coarse salt.

Pound. 

Woman's work, Adam. Step aside.

Observe.

Resent lack of attention. (Side note: Does anyone else's kid insist on the one shoulder look?)

Keep pounding until it looks like so.

Don't forget to wipe spicy shrapnel from the wall.

Spoon into jars.

Add oil, vinegar and mustard. Shake.

Voila. Adam adds a spoonful to his morning egg in a basket. And really, on top of everything else he eats too.

Deliver sample to veggie lady.

Just changing cultural constructs one jar of piment at a time.

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Weekend List!

Jill's (Short)(Sick) List:

Hello, friends.  I've been sicker than ever before this week with the stupidest maladies usually reserved for childhood, including pink eye among other things. What gives?  Mama Youyou said Congo was just making sure I still respected it's power over me...

Awhile ago, some friends of ours Skyped us and said they were subtly reducing their circle of friends in order to be better friends with the people they really liked.  I kind of thought this was a great idea (mostly because we made the cut) for people in their 30s with small, time-sucking children.  Turns out, Pamela Druckerman has the same philosophy for folks in their 40s.

 But you find your tribe. Jerry Seinfeld said in an interview last year that his favorite part of the Emmy Awards was when the comedy writers went onstage to collect their prize. “You see these gnome-like cretins, just kind of all misshapen. And I go, ‘This is me. This is who I am. That’s my group.’ ” By your 40s, you don’t want to be with the cool people; you want to be with your people.

Two different favorite friends posted photos this week of essential book collections.  I love them all.  I love books.  Which books do you love?

Per the forever eloquent S.E.: In the end, these were the books that mattered most: The Complete Works of Beatrix Potter, "Momoko and the Pretty Bird," Three different collections of fairy tales, The Sufi Poets, Yehuda Amichai, Pablo Neruda, "The Prophet," Stephen Warren Moore's "Life Days," "The Secret Garden," My dad's New Testament from high school, "Portrait of a Lady," and a nasty little number titled, "The Story of O." There were others of course that changed my life, but in the end I had to let them go. I'm not sure what this small library I've kept close says about me, but here it is in all its glory. 

The books that L.R. and her kids have read together this year.  So perfect.

Our family doctor has been fasting in Richmond, Virginia this week to protest the government stalemate over expanding Medicaid.  Such an important issue.

Speaking of the working poor and uninsured, this article about maternal mortality in the U.S. is important.  I was able to participate in 2010's Amnesty International report Deadly Delivery and I haven't stopped thinking about this issue since. 

What do you think about this movie?  Too same ol', same ol'?  Yay! A new Wes Anderson?

Have you already seen this video?  I agree so completely and it makes me so sad.  I want to hug all of my middle school boys and especially my son.

And.  International Women's Day in photos.  Le 8 mars is special here in Congo and around the world.

A long time ago in 2012, the girls had special International Women's Day dresses made and this adorable photo quickly claimed the spot as one of our most popular posts ever.

Sarah's List:

In 2016, I fear going from this passport...

Such tasteful understatement.

...to this one. I tend to agree with this article.

Speaking of minimalism, check out these brand makeovers. And these too.

Why Africa is the most homophobic continent.

By See-ming Lee 李思明 (http://www.flickr.com/photos/seeminglee/) (Flickr) [CC-BY-SA-2.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Ellen poses for Annie Liebovitz.

Big image news for bloggers. Thanks Getty! 

Jeu des Echanges. Probably the most telling piece of colonialist memorabilia. 

See page for author [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

My child's name has an umlaut, or trema as we say, because hers is extra special and French. (And they are slightly different.) Check out all of these amazing ways not to use that symbol.

By RicHard-59 (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

When non-Americans throw "American-themed" parties.

And thank you to everyone for your awesome comments regarding our move. I promise I won't start linking all things Burkina, but here's a good piece about their current political situation.

By English: Master Sgt. Jeremiah Erickson [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

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We're leaving Congo. Forever.

I hate change. No really, it messes me up. When my favorite websites get a "new look" it takes me a while to forgive them and visit again. When I commute, I have to take the same route every day or I'll be totally off. I do not use an alarm clock. My eyelids just know when to open. I'm the type of person who marries a routine. And never cheats.

But for some reason changing countries always feels exciting. I moved to Egypt and then Congo without visiting either place. And without knowing a soul. When everything changes it's far easier than just one thing being different.

So here we go again. We're leaving Congo after six of the best years of our lives. In June we'll take our last flight from the place we started our family. The only home our children have known. As Mama Youyou has told us over and over, "No one is happy about this." It's true. It's horribly sad and I will probably self-medicate to make it through all the goodbyes.

In fact, last week I wrote about leaving Congo on World Moms Blog and Adam gave me a hard time for writing such a depressing post. Check it out here. I'll be referring to the supportive comments folks left there from now until our departure. (Thank you, World Moms!)

Photo credit: Jill Humphrey

But as a dear friend said when she left us doubled over in sadness upon her exit from Congo:

This was never meant to be permanent.

And so we can't stay here forever. The time feels right to move on.

After our usual visit to the States this summer, we'll pack up and head to Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso. And since we're switching countries, we may as well change our careers while we're at it. Adam and I will be the Country Representatives for Mennonite Central Committee, and our children will go to work charming the locals so we can make friends. They can already pronounce the words "Ouagadougou" and "Burkina Faso" so that's one hurdle crossed.

We've seen pictures of our future house, we have a nanny lined up (sigh), and all four of us will visit Ouaga in a few weeks. In some ways, it feels like we've already transitioned. It is truly a weird time in our lives.

I don't know much about Burkina Faso. But unlike the other places I've moved, I have been there before. Strangely, about 12 years ago I passed through Ouagadougou with friends on the way to Mali. And I kid you not, I had a dream about coming back there to live with Adam. Unfortunately I didn't take my premonition seriously enough to size up the place for its functionality of moving there with two children.

Luckily, many expats in Congo have also lived in Burkina. So we've been mining them for information. When we mention our move the most common words we hear are:

• integrity
• hot
• friendly
• motorcycles
• strawberries

 Let's compare that to the most common words we hear when we tell people we live in Congo:

• dangerous 
• humid
• potholes
• Ebola
• why?

Clearly, we love Congo despite its reputation. But Burkina sure sounds like a great place too.

I know you're wondering...yes Jill and her family are leaving Congo too. She'll write about their change in due time. And no, we don't know about the future of Mama Congo, which feels like another one of our best friends here. Dear readers: Do you have any suggestions? 

But let's get to the most important part of this post - Do we have any readers in Burkina Faso? If so, will you be my friend?

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