Food and Ritual
This past week I conducted listening and speaking assessments, which means I had between 3-4 minutes of one-on-one time with each of my 135 students. This is how I spent my last four potential teaching days of the semester. I don’t think the assessments were necessary; the English teacher for classes 5 and 6 last year told me I should do them. But, for the most part, it was really nice to have these few moments of alone time with each student, moments that are nearly impossible during the normal school day.
I didn’t have any specific questions written out for the assessment. I wanted it to turn into a conversation more than a “test.” The students obviously didn’t know this as most of them came into the little room looking so nervous and their fears didn’t subside the whole time. To them, it was a test.
Many of the “conversations” turned to food, as that happens to be one of my favorite topics to talk about. The thing is, talking about food in Bhutan, especially with a primary school kid, doesn’t go that far. For the question, “What is your favorite kind of food?” the answer will undoubtedly be, “potato curry,” since that’s about all my students eat. Combined with rice, they eat potato curry for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And when I say ‘curry’ I don’t mean a complicated blend of spices you might encounter in India or Thailand. Potato curry in Bhutan is boiled pieces of potato mixed with chilies and cheese. A more complicated curry involves cooking the potatoes with tomatoes and onions. Sure, the cheese could be either fresh cheese or the store-bought processed cheese, but the outcome is similar. When I do eat lunch at school, the small group of students I happen to be eating with will each give me a spoonful of their potato curry.
My students in Tanzania were the same. If you asked them what their favorite foods were, they’d say, “Meat and rice,” as this is the food they get during special times of the year. Otherwise, it’s rice and beans or ugali (a stiff porridge made from corn flour and water) and beans.
This is what eating is like in a developing country that isn’t particularly known for their cuisine.
One of the students this past week, out of the potentially hundred I talked to about food, said her favorite food was, “Momos.” I almost dropped to my knees and kissed her feet. I had never been so happy to hear someone say, “momos.” She was the only student to answer the question, “What is your favorite food?” differently, the only student who didn’t automatically said potato curry. Momos are dumplings, steamed dumplings. The only thing that separates them from the Chinese dumpling is that the vegetable momo has flecks of cheese is in it. I can’t imagine any Chinese person putting cheese in their dumplings or even contemplating such a thing (I don’t consider crab rangoon Chinese food). A pork momo is identical to a pork dumpling.
My students’ diets might be interrupted by cabbage or green beans, which are other popular crops grown in local gardens, or dried maggi (ramen noodles are generally known here as “maggi,” which is the name of a popular brand of instant noodles) bought at the shops. But for the most part, if you were to guess what my students ate last night, it would invariably include rice, potatoes, and chilies.
At a special occasion, like a puja, a going away party, or a celebratory lunch, the dishes will range only so much. The staples will be a potato curry (kewa datsi) or a mushroom curry (shamoo datsi) or a potato and mushroom curry, chili curry (ema datsi), and rice. There will likely be a soup – a daal or a soup made with bones. Meat will probably play a role in the meal, whether it’s pork fat or pork paa (while paa tends to be on the dry side, it’s nice for the simple fact that what you’re eating is solid pieces of meat versus solid pieces of fat), curried chicken or dried beef. For the vegetarians, the hosts might also serve fried fresh cheese, which is crumbled local cheese drowned and fried in oil. Sometimes, with the main course, the host will serve curd, also known as buttermilk.
Of course, there are other dishes I’ve eaten in eastern Bhutan – like a soup made with dried seaweed, fried boiled eggs, bitter gourd curry, radish and pork – but the dishes I mentioned above are the solid stand-bys, ones I’ve come to expect at Bhutanese functions.
The order in which you eat is very ritualized here and I haven’t come across many Bhutanese who will deviate from the routine (which is funny because I constantly expect people to deviate, but they never do. The order in which one is supposed to eat is steadfast, like religion and allegiance to the King). First, tea is served along with biscuits and crackers. It might be normal black tea with milk powder and sugar or it could be suja, a tea made with butter. Suja or tea can also be served with dried, puffed rice or mashed corn. Today, I went to a puja where they served both tea and suja. After some time, the teacups and biscuits and puffed rice will be cleared. Immediately after comes the alcohol portion of the evening, usually beer, ara, or sweet wine. For those who don’t drink alcohol, a glass of juice is served. During this time, savory snacks come out, which might include a preview of what will come in the main course. Lately, I’ve been at functions where the host will bring out small plates or bowls of meat. The first time it happened, I assumed the host was treating us with an extravagant appetizer, as opposed to the normal ezzie (essentially a chili-based salsa) or spicy snack mix. But then I encountered the same food in the main course. It’s happened enough times now that when meat is offered during beer, I know I’ll see it again during the main course. I’m not a big fan of the main-course preview during beer as I think it ruins the actual meal by boring the palette or by prematurely filling your stomach.
Most Bhutanese wouldn’t dream of eating before the beer-drinking or ara-drinking is finished. Sometimes, when they’re in a particularly jolly mood, this means they won’t eat dinner until 11:00 at night. This is something that, while I know in theory, in practice, I tend not to follow. I’ll be drinking – la la la – and the food will come and, before I know it, I’m being served a huge bowlful of rice. I glance down by my knee – usually Bhutanese eat on the floor sitting Indian-style – and I see a half-filled glass of beer. And I think, ‘Damn, I forgot to finish my beer before drinking.’ A Bhutanese would never let this happen. I find myself having to secretly finish my beer during my meal or quickly afterwards since it’s rude to leave a glass with beer in it. The reason the beer and alcohol drinking comes before the meal is because the beer drinking never comes after the meal. It’s standard to leave a puja or whatever occasion it is almost immediately after eating.
Of course, there are exceptions to this. When I first came, my staff held a farewell party for a teacher and after the eating came dancing and more drinking. Of all the Bhutanese functions and gatherings I’ve attended, which I’ve pretty much lost count of, this has only happened twice. The other occasion was another farewell party.
Just this past weekend, Scott and I had a Bhutanese friend come over at dinnertime. I made momos. I’ve always been a bit confused about momos, as I’ve never seen them at an evening function. Sonam, our guest, seemed relatively happy that I was making momos. At first, Sonam drank water; we skipped the tea because he declined when we offered. When I suggested some peanuts, Sonam said briskly, “No, we’ll have those with beer.”
So when we got to the beer, I brought out the peanuts and other snacks that are appropriate to have with beer. As we were getting to our third cups of beer, I thought it might be appropriate to bring out the momos. Momos, being small and savory, seemed like the sort of snack that would go with the alcohol portion of the night. I was wrong. Sonam didn’t touch the momos. When I said I was also making a potato curry, Sonam suggested I bring out a small bowl of it. He wanted the main-course preview with his beer.
When it seemed like we were all done drinking, I asked Sonam if he wanted rice and curry. He declined, saying, “I’ll have momos first.” When he had eaten a few momos, then he was ready for rice and curry.
I don’t mean to paint Sonam as an ungrateful, difficult dinner guest. He’s not at all; he’s just Bhutanese, and this is the order in which they eat. In fact, Sonam is the opposite of an ungrateful, difficult dinner guest. When he arrived, he showered us with gifts from Bhuthang, a town located in the middle of the country – good unprocessed cheese, bottles of Red Panda beer (the only good beer in Bhutan), a four-pack of Fosters beer, and strips of dried yak meat. That’s another Bhutanese thing – never arrive at someone’s house empty-handed.
I didn’t have any specific questions written out for the assessment. I wanted it to turn into a conversation more than a “test.” The students obviously didn’t know this as most of them came into the little room looking so nervous and their fears didn’t subside the whole time. To them, it was a test.
Many of the “conversations” turned to food, as that happens to be one of my favorite topics to talk about. The thing is, talking about food in Bhutan, especially with a primary school kid, doesn’t go that far. For the question, “What is your favorite kind of food?” the answer will undoubtedly be, “potato curry,” since that’s about all my students eat. Combined with rice, they eat potato curry for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And when I say ‘curry’ I don’t mean a complicated blend of spices you might encounter in India or Thailand. Potato curry in Bhutan is boiled pieces of potato mixed with chilies and cheese. A more complicated curry involves cooking the potatoes with tomatoes and onions. Sure, the cheese could be either fresh cheese or the store-bought processed cheese, but the outcome is similar. When I do eat lunch at school, the small group of students I happen to be eating with will each give me a spoonful of their potato curry.
My students in Tanzania were the same. If you asked them what their favorite foods were, they’d say, “Meat and rice,” as this is the food they get during special times of the year. Otherwise, it’s rice and beans or ugali (a stiff porridge made from corn flour and water) and beans.
This is what eating is like in a developing country that isn’t particularly known for their cuisine.
One of the students this past week, out of the potentially hundred I talked to about food, said her favorite food was, “Momos.” I almost dropped to my knees and kissed her feet. I had never been so happy to hear someone say, “momos.” She was the only student to answer the question, “What is your favorite food?” differently, the only student who didn’t automatically said potato curry. Momos are dumplings, steamed dumplings. The only thing that separates them from the Chinese dumpling is that the vegetable momo has flecks of cheese is in it. I can’t imagine any Chinese person putting cheese in their dumplings or even contemplating such a thing (I don’t consider crab rangoon Chinese food). A pork momo is identical to a pork dumpling.
My students’ diets might be interrupted by cabbage or green beans, which are other popular crops grown in local gardens, or dried maggi (ramen noodles are generally known here as “maggi,” which is the name of a popular brand of instant noodles) bought at the shops. But for the most part, if you were to guess what my students ate last night, it would invariably include rice, potatoes, and chilies.
At a special occasion, like a puja, a going away party, or a celebratory lunch, the dishes will range only so much. The staples will be a potato curry (kewa datsi) or a mushroom curry (shamoo datsi) or a potato and mushroom curry, chili curry (ema datsi), and rice. There will likely be a soup – a daal or a soup made with bones. Meat will probably play a role in the meal, whether it’s pork fat or pork paa (while paa tends to be on the dry side, it’s nice for the simple fact that what you’re eating is solid pieces of meat versus solid pieces of fat), curried chicken or dried beef. For the vegetarians, the hosts might also serve fried fresh cheese, which is crumbled local cheese drowned and fried in oil. Sometimes, with the main course, the host will serve curd, also known as buttermilk.
Of course, there are other dishes I’ve eaten in eastern Bhutan – like a soup made with dried seaweed, fried boiled eggs, bitter gourd curry, radish and pork – but the dishes I mentioned above are the solid stand-bys, ones I’ve come to expect at Bhutanese functions.
The order in which you eat is very ritualized here and I haven’t come across many Bhutanese who will deviate from the routine (which is funny because I constantly expect people to deviate, but they never do. The order in which one is supposed to eat is steadfast, like religion and allegiance to the King). First, tea is served along with biscuits and crackers. It might be normal black tea with milk powder and sugar or it could be suja, a tea made with butter. Suja or tea can also be served with dried, puffed rice or mashed corn. Today, I went to a puja where they served both tea and suja. After some time, the teacups and biscuits and puffed rice will be cleared. Immediately after comes the alcohol portion of the evening, usually beer, ara, or sweet wine. For those who don’t drink alcohol, a glass of juice is served. During this time, savory snacks come out, which might include a preview of what will come in the main course. Lately, I’ve been at functions where the host will bring out small plates or bowls of meat. The first time it happened, I assumed the host was treating us with an extravagant appetizer, as opposed to the normal ezzie (essentially a chili-based salsa) or spicy snack mix. But then I encountered the same food in the main course. It’s happened enough times now that when meat is offered during beer, I know I’ll see it again during the main course. I’m not a big fan of the main-course preview during beer as I think it ruins the actual meal by boring the palette or by prematurely filling your stomach.
Most Bhutanese wouldn’t dream of eating before the beer-drinking or ara-drinking is finished. Sometimes, when they’re in a particularly jolly mood, this means they won’t eat dinner until 11:00 at night. This is something that, while I know in theory, in practice, I tend not to follow. I’ll be drinking – la la la – and the food will come and, before I know it, I’m being served a huge bowlful of rice. I glance down by my knee – usually Bhutanese eat on the floor sitting Indian-style – and I see a half-filled glass of beer. And I think, ‘Damn, I forgot to finish my beer before drinking.’ A Bhutanese would never let this happen. I find myself having to secretly finish my beer during my meal or quickly afterwards since it’s rude to leave a glass with beer in it. The reason the beer and alcohol drinking comes before the meal is because the beer drinking never comes after the meal. It’s standard to leave a puja or whatever occasion it is almost immediately after eating.
Of course, there are exceptions to this. When I first came, my staff held a farewell party for a teacher and after the eating came dancing and more drinking. Of all the Bhutanese functions and gatherings I’ve attended, which I’ve pretty much lost count of, this has only happened twice. The other occasion was another farewell party.
Just this past weekend, Scott and I had a Bhutanese friend come over at dinnertime. I made momos. I’ve always been a bit confused about momos, as I’ve never seen them at an evening function. Sonam, our guest, seemed relatively happy that I was making momos. At first, Sonam drank water; we skipped the tea because he declined when we offered. When I suggested some peanuts, Sonam said briskly, “No, we’ll have those with beer.”
So when we got to the beer, I brought out the peanuts and other snacks that are appropriate to have with beer. As we were getting to our third cups of beer, I thought it might be appropriate to bring out the momos. Momos, being small and savory, seemed like the sort of snack that would go with the alcohol portion of the night. I was wrong. Sonam didn’t touch the momos. When I said I was also making a potato curry, Sonam suggested I bring out a small bowl of it. He wanted the main-course preview with his beer.
When it seemed like we were all done drinking, I asked Sonam if he wanted rice and curry. He declined, saying, “I’ll have momos first.” When he had eaten a few momos, then he was ready for rice and curry.
I don’t mean to paint Sonam as an ungrateful, difficult dinner guest. He’s not at all; he’s just Bhutanese, and this is the order in which they eat. In fact, Sonam is the opposite of an ungrateful, difficult dinner guest. When he arrived, he showered us with gifts from Bhuthang, a town located in the middle of the country – good unprocessed cheese, bottles of Red Panda beer (the only good beer in Bhutan), a four-pack of Fosters beer, and strips of dried yak meat. That’s another Bhutanese thing – never arrive at someone’s house empty-handed.
posted by Siapiau | 6:42 PM
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