In this country, fruit is not cleanly sliced with a knife. Instead, the vampire gnaws a hole into the mango’s side, quickly severing its skin. As teeth sink into flesh, practiced fingertips massage the fruit to release mouthfuls of succulent liquid.
Think juice box, minus the box.
That’s why everyone on my bus rejoiced when the vehicle chugged to a stop on a leafy dirt road, just one hour into the journey from Arba Minch to Addis Ababa.
The doors swung open and dozens of fruit sellers bombarded the bus, carrying bundles of bananas, plastic platters of limes and baskets of mangos. It was a flurry of chatter and birr, with bills exchanged for bags of precious produce.
When the bus started up again, the mango vampires sank their teeth in.
Within a couple hours the floor was slippery, sticky and smelled of rotting sweetness. With mango carcasses on the ground and the sugar high long gone, all that remained was 10 more hours of a dusty, bone-jarring ride.
Whenever I tell people back home that my favorite cuisine is Ethiopian, I’m met with laughter and jeers.
“What do they serve at Ethiopian restaurants? One grain of rice?”
Har har.
But now I’m getting the last laugh, eating my way around Ethiopia and indulging in this country’s incredibly lush, layered cuisine.
For the uninitiated, here’s what Ethiopian food is all about.
Most dishes revolve around sauces served on injera.
Injera is a bread made from teff flour, not wheat, so it’s naturally gluten-free and doesn’t rest heavy on the stomach. The dough is fermented, giving it a tangy taste and spongy texture similar to sourdough. It looks like a limp pancake.
The best thing about Ethiopian food is that you eat with your hands, tearing pieces of injera and using them to sop up the juicy sauces. Since you’re experiencing the food without utensils, the meals engage every sense — right down to the steamy sauna of sauce on your fingertips.
The most common sauce, called wot, is like a thick, yummy stew made with either meat or beans. It is seasoned with berbere, a potent blend of chili pepper, black pepper, ginger, garlic and other spices. (Supposedly the way to an Ethiopian man’s heart is through spice — it is said that the woman with the best berbere nabs the best husband!)
A less zesty version of wot is called alecha. It contains no berbere, but it is equally delicious.
During Lent and on fasting days — that is, every Wednesday and Friday — orthodox Ethiopians eschew animal products, which means vegans rule, baby! That’s when I happily order my favorite meal, beyanetu, a hearty sampler of wot, alecha, salads and more.
Many dishes are served on a shared plate, using a piece of injera that is approximately the size of a bistro tablecloth.
If you’re dining with loved ones, you might also experience gursha, a beautiful act of friendship. That’s when your buddy tears a strip of injera, sponges up some sauce, then places the bundle of food into your mouth. The larger the roll of injera, the stronger your friendship.
Altogether, Ethiopian cuisine is unbearably beautiful in its richness of flavor, the eye-popping spice, and even the act of nourishing one another. I feel like I’m getting to know this country one bite of injera at a time.
It’s a far cry from one grain of rice, huh?
Of course, the food varies by region, based on tradition, season and availability. While I was visiting a tribe near Konso, they were serving up beans and kurkofa, balls of maize and sorghum dough, boiled and served with moringa (cabbage tree) leaves.
Whether you call it football or soccer, one thing is certain — attending a game in South America is a must.
For me, there was no better place than Buenos Aires, where I could root for one of the nation’s most beloved teams, Boca.
Though my knowledge of the game is limited — um, I saw “Bend It Like Beckham” once — I find it really easy to get caught up in the energy and excitement of a crowd. The home team was winning, the stands crackled with electricity and I sang and cheered until my throat went dry.
Interested in checking out a match for yourself? Here are my top tips for how to score some major points.
DO
Go with a group, especially if it’s your first time. The stadium is crowded, the situation is overwhelming and the fans are nuts. And we’re not talking about the kind of nuts where they paint their tummies and wear cheese wedges on their heads. These fans will set you on fire.
Scream your fool head off, even if you don’t know the words to the chants.
Stay tucked well underneath the balcony where the visiting supporters sit. The fans tend to get rowdy and throw things at the fans below. That includes waste … human waste.
Stay in your seat until the police say you can leave. Once the game is over, visiting supoprters have 30 minutes to leave the stadium. When they have cleared out, home team fans can go.
Roll up your pant legs before leaving. For some weird reason, fans of the losing team all get the urge to piss at the same time on the stairs of the stadium, leaving the winning team’s fans to wade through muck and puddles.
Chat with the cute guy next to you by mumbling something like, “Moreno is really taking advantage of that defensive lapse and controlling the tempo of the game.” Should that fail, simply yell “OLE!”
DON’T
Buy a soda. It’s guaranteed to be flat and expensive.
Take anything valuable with you. There are pickpockets everywhere.
Root for another team while sitting in the home team section. This is a matter of life or death. Seriously.
Lose track of your group and spend an hour waiting for them on a very dangerous and dark street corner in a country where you don’t speak the language, all while wearing the rival team’s colors. (Not saying this is what happened to me. Just a random suggestion.)
GOOD TO KNOW
No alcohol is sold inside the stadium. So if you want to be a belligerent drunk, get spirited before the match.
Sometimes fans set off a bunch of flares inside the stadium, creating a lot of smoke and chaos. This appears to be acceptable behavior.
