Fufu and Goat Soap

Xiao-he, look, let me tell you something. This guy is a typical racist. He lied to you. I’ve taught English in other schools before. There, the kids liked and played with me so much so that some of the Chinese teachers often became envious. Those kids used to call me “Michael Jordan” any time they saw me. They would even hug and kiss me in front of their parents.”

“Michael what?”

“Michael Jordan, don’t you know him?”                                                      

“Oh! Do you mean that great legend of basketball?”

“Yes.” I answered with great pride.

I then returned to the kitchen to continue my cooking. There was a long and eerie silence. Xiao-he had remained silent ever since Jordan’s name came up. I really couldn’t guess his next move. He’d been talking all this while, why was he now so quiet. It could be that he didn’t like Jordan that much. Or perhaps, he was just too drunk and wanted to take a nap.

“Food is ready.” I cried out.

Xiao-he seemed uninterested. Before this time he’d complained to me how much he’d missed eating African food. I’d promised to prepare a sumptuous African meal for him any time he came to my residence. I knew he was hungry, so I did just that. But he wouldn’t even look at the food. It was his favorite African dish—fufu with palm oil soup. There was also nwo-nwo or goat soup. It’s a soup made of goat intestines, heart, liver vegetables, onions and pepper—served as a starter. Ginger beer was also ready at hand—to wash all these down. It’s a non-alcoholic beverage made from fresh ginger, lime juice, sugar, cloves (or cinnamon) and water.

 To be continued…

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