Injera: A Change of Strategy

 

Friends who have been following my troubles since I moved out of my home country Kenya to the land of beautiful women, aka Ethiopia, know that I do not at all like the cuisine they have here. They have “traditional” everything. That, friends, is past tense. Injera, depending on what you are using as sauce (or stew) is quite harmless, like I have come to learn. Although it is sour, it is still edible to the foreigner, as long as you have the right sauce aka teps or tips depending on how clearly you understand the accent of Ethiopians. Now, teps is beef or mutton minced and fried. It tastes just like it would if you cooked it yourself, as long as you visit a good restaurant, you know. I strongly recommend that if you are going to eat Injera for the first time you use teps, the whole teps and nothing but the teps. If you dislike pepper you had better tell them because they assume that you will like your food peppered anyway. If you have the language virus aka HLV which stands for human linguodeficiency virus and you cannot speak any Amharic, just learn this word: barbari. This word stands for pepper and you can say: “No barbari” with a face that expresses how much you hate pepper. “No” is of course known by anybody who speaks any human language despite being an English word.

Teps, we said. Should you be the adventurous type who'd like to try anything, you will hate Injera for the rest of your days on earth. Since I first tasted Injera accompanied with teps, I have not looked back. Injera is a good thing especially because you can choose to ignore its taste and concentrate on the taste of teps.

But there is one thing I have been observing with the locals here. They are very sociable and even men hold hands as they walk, a thing that would be interpreted as gayism in some countries. It would sound un-serious if some men walking holding hands asked for your wallet. You know they would not harm you at all. The point I was trying to bring was that concerning table manners like my mama used to call them when I was little. These people have none of the above-mentioned attribute. I will prove to you:

I was sitting in a little restaurant near the Commercial Bank of Ethiopia in Nazret having my Injera and enjoying it when out of nowhere comes this neighbour that I greeted one day. He does not say hi and just takes the seat beside mine. I look at him carefully. He starts folding the cuffs of his shirt and all this leaves the food that I was directing to my mouth halfway between the plate and the mouth. He reaches for my plate and grabs a piece of Injera, which in case you do not know is eaten by first tearing. He takes a big piece indeed. He goes ahead to collect almost half of the teps folded in the Injera. I cannot believe it. The Injera in my hands I drop by accident. After the Injera is in his mouth he reaches out for another and I cannot resist it. I hold his hand and ask him:

“Hey, I know sharing is good but you are stealing from me! That was indeed a very big piece you tore, and you are going to finish my meat!”

He looks surprised. All his life he has never been stopped from eating from anyone's plate. They have this kind of brotherhood here that is not known on Kenya. He gets up and walks out of the restaurant, offended. I cannot eat any more. I have lost my appetite because I told a man the truth and he got offended.

The moral of the story is. If you prefer eating in peace, do not tell your friends where you eat. They will all storm on your plate, hate it or love it.