JIBINI!

Last Wednesday, I got a call on the radio when I was at the waterhole asking me to come to the owner’s house on my way home. Of course all day I was coming up with all kinds of scenarios on why I was asked to stop by. All of the scenarios were good news resulting in my excitement for the end of the day to come so I could unfold the mystery. Well, to my delight on arrival I was handed a wheel of locally made mozzarella cheese! I had ordered cheese the last time I ordered food because I have been told that there is a village that makes it. It is too long of a daladala ride/walk for me to transport it myself, but the ranch vehicles often get cheese there for the tourist camp. This method allowed the cheese to be kept refrigerated until it was in my hands. I unabashedly opened it and took a big bite on my way home. It had been a long time since I have had cheese, a mainstay of our casseroles back home. I had about a 20 minute walk home holding the cheese right in my hand. It was so tempting and so delicious that I think I ate about a quarter of it. I relinquished it to Rose when I got home who had a puzzled look and asked “kwanini mbaya?” (why bad?) as she studied the bite marks. I was ashamed to admit I couldn’t help myself, but she just laughed. Rose sprinkled it with salt and wrapped in it a cloth napkin, explaining that it would keep a week this way. The following days were spent at the tree house in the morning contemplating the joy to be experienced at lunchtime when the cheese in my backpack would be in my mouth. I admit, usually the cheese didn’t survive until noon.