That's Actually A Dog That You're Eating...

I just ate a potentially E.Coli filled half-raw omelet sandwich. My second gas can ran out of gas just as I was about to flip my possibly delicious onion omelet over in the skillet. My options at this point were numbered and pretty obvious. I could walk over to my concession maman’s while wearing my requisite panya house wrap, raw egg filled skillet in hand, or I could flip the omelet over as fast as possible and attempt to use the remaining heat in the pan to partially finish the job. Guess which option I went with?!? I placed the soggy omelet onto a loaf of bread, which managed to soak up/disguise some of the raw egg goop. It was surprisingly delicious. No one told me one of my areas of personal growth in the Peace Corps would involve discovering what new lows I can bring myself to where food is involved.

Here is a list of gross or just plain sad things that I or PCVs I know have eaten:

-Crystallized slugs disguised as pretty pink candy in Niger

-Little round mystery meatballs suspected to be goat testicles

-A piece of goat that appeared to contain both teeth and a hairy nostril

-An entire log sized igname after an ill fated first trip to the marche in village

-About 10 pieces of gum all at once that exploded from the container and landed on the ground

-Mashed ignames mixed with a potentially 2 year old Mac n Cheese cheese packet left by a previous volunteer

I had a dream recently in which I was hurrying around a grocery store, Super Market Sweep style, and frantically putting everything I wanted to eat in my shopping cart. I stopped short at one of those giant plastic jars of dill pickles that appeared to be illuminated from above by something more than mere supermarket fluorescent lights. As I excitedly reached into the jar to get a pickle, a pair of tongs appeared in my hands and the jar turned into a hot dog dispenser. Next to it were all the ketchup, mustard, and relish you could ever want. As I continued through the store, the hot dog in my hand turned into a peanut butter container that I began attacking with my bare fingers. I’m not exactly sure what point I’m trying to make in telling that story, but seriously, how awesome is the idea of a huge pickle jar/hot dog dispenser?!? Also, think about how much more tolerable our mystery meat food would be here if it came in a delightful hot dog shape and was served on a bun with endless amounts of ketchup and mustard. A hot dog made of real dog meat? It’s at least got to be more visually appealing than my runny, undercooked excuse for an omelet sandwich.