My passion to get things done always drives me like automatons , but passion alone wasn't helping in getting this post started. I finally had to burst my bubble, I'm not a writer but what a heck? I don't have to be a professional writer to tell a story, do I?
It was a very hot Thursday evening as I rushed out of the lecture room after a long boring class of Ethnomusicology, all I wished for was a very rich man friend with a car to be waiting outside my class to chauffeur me home, or better yet to a beach somewhere with the cool breeze. Well, I already had a boyfriend and the old school me was not about to hook myself another. I jumped on the next "boda boda" (a motorcycle for hire) to my boyfriend's house. As most of the men in this part of the world, he was waiting for me to fix dinner for his several visitors from Europe. At this point of my life I did not only suck at writing but also at cooking, but heh, I could die for this guy so I always gave my best to anything for him. I'm a natural multi tasker, at least that's what I thought, so I peeled the plantain put it to boil, set another pan of stew on the stove and since we had only two burners, I put the pan with rice on the charcoal stove and run to the dinning room and set the table. You know , with the glasses on the right side and silver to the left like I'd always seen in the fancy restaurants. I went back to the kitchen, started dishing out the stew and my boyfriend stormed in and started complaining of how I'd put the forks on the wrong side , I apologised, of coarse with a grin , I was already bursting myself. I opened the pan of rice and hmm, it was so soggy , you would think it was porridge. I threw it in the trash can and run to the restaurant across the street and bought cooked rice, what I should have done from the start. I took it straight to the table. I took the water jar next and had the platter of plantain in my hands when my dear boyfriend forcefully spat on the floor. My hands let go and the plantain was on the floor. All I had left to serve was the bought rice and the water. The stew had too much salt and this time not my fault because I don't eat meat so I couldn't test the stew. What an excuse? Well , he dumped me one year later. I don't know why he did though. If it was the cooking, he missed my awesome cooking that has improved over the years.