Jewish moms aren't the only feeders

I wrote my family about the immense amount of food I'm ingesting here. Platefuls of carbs,handful after handful of chappati and glasses of 4% milk (basically whipping cream). My dad wrote back gleeful that my stomach issues aren't persisting in Uganda. This is a misunderstanding, though, and I thought I should devote a blog post to my eating patterns (since it is much of what I do here) in order to clear up any confusion.

First of all, the food isn't bad . I haven't gotten sick of it and I enjoy all of the dishes - Even the ones typically unpopular among tourists. One such dish is called Matooke (Ma-toe-kay). This is a type of plantain which is boiled, softened, and then mashed into a thick yellow paste. No flavor is added, and it serves as the base to sauces, beans, etc. Another Ugandan staple posho. To make it, you add hot water to corn flour (over a fire) and it slowly expands into this flubbery white block. This also serves as the base of the meal and as your utensil.

For breakfast all I usually get is a cup of black tea and occasionally some white bread. So, when lunch rolls around ta 1:00, I'm starving and gorge myself on whatever food is cheap and near. I arrive home, still full from my mid-day feast around, 6:00 and am greeted with another cup of tea and a snack (usually popcorn). When dinner is served around 10:00 pm, I'm no longer hungry. In fact, I would much rather sleep than eat. But I muster some energy and fill my plate with posho, beans and Irish potatoes (buttery/salty boiled potatoes). I always serve myself a small portion because inevitably my host father demands in his thick, deep voice, "Magga, more mmere (food). More mmere." I know better than to refuse so I fill my plate higher the second time as the family watches over my shoulder. Some nights they will actually bring the pots over to me and put more food on my plate declaring, "We just love you so much. SOOO much!" By the time dinner is over I'm barely able to roll myself into bed.

I have heard that other host families employ different techniques to encourage their student's eating. One host mom begs, " Do it for Mama!" In another family, if the American refuses to eat more the mother declares, "Fine, if you are going without food, than so am I" and pushes her plate of food away.

My African Dad told me one dinner as he proudly watched me eat seconds of posho, "By the end of this trip, we will make you African."