A Dominican Walk Through Kenya (Part 2)

Kenyan Food: From Shamba to Serving Spoon

As Dominicans, sharing meals together is a vital and consistent avenue to express our community life. I am thankful that all through my novitiate and up until today as a student brother, I have shared food with another Dominican at table pretty much every day. Thinking about how important food is all through the scriptures sure gives a strong endorsement to our effort to share meals together as Friars.

So, it comes to no surprise that, tied in with those meals was also an experience of the wonderful food of Kenya. Ugali, chicken, sukuma wiki (a collard green with a name literally meaning “push the week”), lentils, mbuzi (goat), chapati (basically tortillas), mandazi (basically donuts), and pineapple pie (basically delicious) all found their spot on the weekly menu. Well, I have decided now to pause writing this reflection and make my way into the kitchen….

On a daily basis, after making the migratory journey to the kitchen after morning prayer and Mass, it was common for all the brothers to congregate around the main island counter. With pots banging, toast underway, tea brewing, and a flurry of conversations back and forth in both Swahili and English, we were all making preparations for the day. The eggs which were tossed into the skillet came from the collection of local chickens in the shamba (Swahili for farm), just 200 meters behind us, near the chapel. One of the first mornings, striving to improve upon my bowl of dry cornflakes, I found heated milk on the stove. This was no skim milk from the grocery store, but was straight from the cows out back, just strained and boiled.

For the times when the food didn’t come from the farm, I did tag along to do grocery shopping with the brothers in the market. Here, especially in our town of Karen, outside of Nairobi, buying all your food, and even produce, at a supermarket akin to one in the States is an option. Not on a budget, however, and not if you want to experience the flare of how most Kenyans deal with the local merchants. Here, people live much closer to their food in a way that makes the packaged assortments of air-conditioned grocery stores seem like an abstraction. I for one, will gladly pick food off the grocery shelves again in the U.S., but with a revitalized appreciation for where it comes from. With such a proximity between shamba and serving dish here in Kenya, it is quite apparent to see the dramatic, indispensable connection between the health of the earth and the well-being of us who call it home.

For dinner on our first Saturday at the Priory, we had Nyama Choma (nyama is Swahili for meat and choma means roast). I was a fan of combining those two words to enjoy community time during, what in Texas we would call, a good ole’ fashioned barbecue. The brothers from the house gathered in a pavilion in the side yard constructed with such a purpose in mind. The meat was goat and, after shopping with Br. Charbel, we had seen it come full circle from the morning browsing around in the Ngong city market. The roasted meat was paired with popcorn (made by Br. Kawooya), peanuts, beer, and soft drinks to go around. Br. Andama was the D.J. and many of the brothers demonstrated the native rhythm common to many Africans. Augustine, Peter, and I had rhythm too. I think. Initially, I was surprised to hear that Br. Andama had picked the song “The Gambler” by Kenny Rogers, but I soon resolved to teach the African brothers some Fightin’ Texas Aggie Country 2-Step. I figured that since this Nyama Choma was a weekly Saturday occurrence, we could make some inroads on the 2-stepping front. And we did. It was a lot of fun to put on songs like “Wagon Wheel” and “Deep in the Heart of Texas” all the while demonstrating the same moves I had learned in the dance halls of Texas A&M.