Food for Thought (inspired by Steve)

Food has been on my mind a lot lately,  especially this last week of the month. It's been a long time since there was any income coming in. We have food, but not the variety and volume of food that comes in  with a regular paycheck. I'm pleased to have beans and I'm a whiz at creating things from  flour and water when I have to be. A liuttle salt, a little cinnamon.

Several years ago, Steve Newman appeared at a library event, for a book signing. I believe it was an anniversary for the library, though I can't remember which one. (It was within this decade, though, so I'm getting my timing better.) He spoke of his book and his travels and took questions afterward. There were two things that impressed me mightily at the time.

The first was something about flies. I don't remember exactly what he said, but it left me with the mental image of huge aggressive black flies trying to carry off food as it was going into a mouth. Not a pretty image.

The second was about the food. Especially in Africa and The Middle East, but really anywhere that there is poverty, people are not worrying about government established RDAs. (Not that the poor here care, but the darned things get a lot of news time.) They are not worrying about nutritional labeling. They are not worried about proper cooking temps. They are not worried about who to sue and blame it on when they get fat or burned.
They are worried about if they can find -- whether it's by beg, borrow, or steal -- enough plain bland rice to keep the stomach from cramping while they sleep, so that they can spend the next day in active pursuit of the next cup of rice.

Can you imagine?

Steve seemed to find the food issue the greatest source of culture shock. If you think about it, you can understand how that would be it. Three squares a day? No way. Work ten or twelve hours to be able to afford a bowl of rice? Or stand in line for a handout of a bowl of rice? Day after day after day after day?

Could you do it, do you think? What if it were the only way you could eat? If you had to do it?

There's a big bowl of rice in my refigerator. I don't like it, I don't want it. But it's there, and while it is there, we have food. So it stays until it's thankfully eaten, a reminder of what we do have instead of what we don't.