Yes, I have heard the words spunk and sass many times in my life. Sometimes these words were used in reference to me, I think at times it was used as a compliment and other times it was my teacher telling my mom I needed to behave better in the class room. As a teenager that was in detention on more than one Saturday, I often wondered what the difference between the words spunk and sass. According to good old Webster spunk is "to show spirit" ans sass is "to talk impudently or disrespectfully". So that is it, spunk is "life with a spark" and sass is "life with an attitude".
This week I have spent my evening shifts in D ward. Last week I had almost exclussively kids and this week it has been a mixed bag. I had 2 girls both days that were quite the handful. The both were very hot and cold. But todday I will introduce you to Blessing.
Blessing is a 9 year old (who had her birthday on Monday and wore a Tiara all day that had pink flashing lights) who suffers from Noma (Noma is a type of gangrene that destroys mucous membranes of the mouth and other tissues. It occurs in malnourished children in areas of poor cleanliness.) Her lips are now gone and is in the 2nd stage of a 7 stage process in reconstructing her face. Her mom will not let her look at her face in the mirror. I had a long talk with her, I said " I don't know what I would do if I were you. I know I would want to protect my child from a reflection that is drastically changed since the last time she saw her face. But I also think at the end of these 7 surgeries her face is not going to look the same as it did before and is she may not be satisfied with her new face if she has never seen how far she has come." Her mom just listened, shaking her head still not sure if this whole thing is just a bad dream.
Back to the spunk and sass. Blessing's bed is the closest to the nursing station and every time a walk by I get a swat on the butt and I hear the highest pitch squeel followed by giggles. I look over and see this tiny little girl in a bed with a spark in her eye that is full of mischieve. Yesterday I did not have much to do on my shift so she occupied most of my time. She was triyng to teach me a hand clap game that I assume was the Liberian version of Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack all dressed in black, black, black. But it is very hard to understand her so mostly I just did what she did.
Blessing hates the taste of her antibiotics, so when I try to give it she hides under her cover and gives an emmy winning performance. Her mom who sleeps on a mattress under her bed comes out from down under and gives a stern "Drink your medicine, it make you body strong" in her very best mom voice. So while I think sometimes Blessing can be a bit sassy the spark in her eye tells me she is full off spunk, I think we are kindred spirits.
Sea Monkey and Fufu
While reading another blog by a nurse whose post was about kids on the ward, she goes on to explain about a little boy, Alfred, shared his Fufu and Sea Monkey with her...(it *Sea Monkey* was not the focus of the blog, the kids were). But I (being the food person I am) zeroed in on the Sea Monkey.
*Sea Monkey* according to my Monrovia friends is a large fish (closely related to tuna or dolphin/or may even be tuna or dolphin - this is speculative) That is very dark in color and bloody.
And just to confirm it I asked our ward cook Ophelia who said, and I quote: "A very dark meat, from a big fish...like dolphin...".
I thought it would be interesting to some of you out there because in all reality you have probably already ate Sea Monkey and never knew it!
Oh! You say what about Fufu? I often forget about all these things as I have had a couple of 'right hand man' in the kitchen usually from West Africa since I started with Mercy Ships in 2001 on the Caribbean Mercy...Ok, let me delve into a small lecture on that one.
Fufu, or fu fu, is a staple food of West and Central Africa. It is a thick paste or porridge usually made by boiling starchy root vegetables in water and pounding with a large mortar and pestle until the desired consistency is reached. [this is basically true and was derived from wikipedia online...now let me deviate to what I personally have found is true in my experience]
In Western Africa, Fufu is usually made from cassava not yams (or at least parts I know something about, like Liberia, Ghana, Benin, Sierra Leone...although the one mixed with plantain seems to be a one of choice among my friends too) sometimes combined with cocoyam, plantains, or maize. In a later post we will get into Banku and Kenkey which are usually fermented before cooking (these are made from the corn maize). The Liberian Dumboy is made from cassava flour.
Often, the dish is still made by traditional methods: pounding and beating the base substance in a mortar with a wooden spoon. Places where poverty is not an issue, or where modern appliances are readily available, a food processor may also be used. Although be ready for scorn because as you may find out, purist do not believe in real Fufu love made in the processor. But if you make it without the processor It will quickly where your arm out making it for more than 4 people!
In Western and Central Africa, the more common method is to serve a mound of Fufu along with a sauce made from okra, fish, tomato, etc...(which we, Reuben & I renamed it Sanka Sauce years ago ~ more about that in another post) because the sauce has variations and can go by so many names. You pinch off a small ball of Fufu and make an indentation with the thumb. This "bowl" indentation is then filled with sauce, and the ball is eaten. In Ghana and Nigeria, the ball is often not chewed but swallowed whole. In fact, among the older generation, chewing Fufu is frowned upon/not accepted.
So for now ~ "to be continued..." as we cover the upcoming topics of Banku, Kenkey, & Sanka Sauce.
* I am not an authority by any means on West African food or cooking, these are my personal views and experiences as they have happened to me and many of my friends who are from these regions of the world*
Good example ~ My Cooking Team
The following excerpt posted as a picture was used by permission from Michal http://whereintheworldismichal.blogspot.com/ who has her own blog AND works on one of our cooking teams...she has taken pictures and gave commentary on our 'inner workings' in the galley and thought you may be interested to read another view besides mine. Plus she has done all the work which is excellent! (laughing)
[If you go to Michal's blog you may be able to click her pictures for a better view if these pictures are too small for you.]
http://whereintheworldismichal.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-cooking-team.html
A tug on my strings
Last night was my first of 4 night shifts. The night went well for the most part. We have started ortho surgery so we have a row of beds that all of little children in cast, each with their mama. It is so funny because each cast is different. One is pink, one is camo, and one is blue. Each one telling a little about the personality of the child wearing it.
On night shift the busiest part of the shift is at 6am. we hang the IV fluids, clean up a little, pass meds, and make sure all our charting is done. I was doing vital sings when I felt a little tug on my scrubs (well the strings that tie in the back to make them a little cuter). I turned around and saw the biggest, cutest (Sunday-boy, 2 years old) eyes starring back at me still holding onto my strings. So for the next 20 minutes held onto my strings as I went on with my nursing duties. I had to walk a bit slower, due to his 2 year old lenght of legs, but it was worth it.
On night shift the busiest part of the shift is at 6am. we hang the IV fluids, clean up a little, pass meds, and make sure all our charting is done. I was doing vital sings when I felt a little tug on my scrubs (well the strings that tie in the back to make them a little cuter). I turned around and saw the biggest, cutest (Sunday-boy, 2 years old) eyes starring back at me still holding onto my strings. So for the next 20 minutes held onto my strings as I went on with my nursing duties. I had to walk a bit slower, due to his 2 year old lenght of legs, but it was worth it.
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