New Tastes and Preferences

As I was mopping to the rhythm of "No Woman, No Cry" my assistant to the the store manager bustles into the back room grumbling, "I hate Bob Marley!" and before I can even start humming, the song on the Starbucks radio is changed. How could anyone hate Bob? I thought it was just because this lady was clearly jaded, but when I left for Africa two months later I had the same sour taste for Marley in my mouth. It's funny how association can completely ruin a song, or in this case, an artist. If I hear the soothing Jamacan beats I am overwhelmed with a sense that I'm forgetting to do something and I shouldn't be sitting around! I can't listen to Buffalo Soldier without the erge to restock the milk fridge in preparation for the next rush of customers. Even now in Mali where electricity is scarce, let alone fridges and jugs of milk, I am still filled with that sense of panic. While going through my daily task of sweeping out my hut I started humming along with the music playing outside, "One love, one life, let's get together and be all right..." Oh no did I remember to turn over the pastry case? I drop my broom and rush outside. "Hey Masaba, do you like Bob Marley?" English songs here are as scarce as ice cubes so I couldn't exactly say no to the comforting sense of familarity. Before I knew it I was translating the unifying lyrics into Bambara, "Umm it's an animal like a cow, but bigger, and a person that fights with the military. No the person isn't the animal, but yeah in the middle of Ameriki. And the rest you know, Whoah whoah whoah." Beggers can't be choosers and I am surprised to find what I can tolerate and even like when given little resources. Why yes I do like watermelon, and all melons for that matter. Yes I would like another piece of that lamb stomach and is that a noodle or intestines? Why fresh whole milk is delicious even if I can possibly get TB from it! No, no I would like more oil with my macaroni please and more carbs, do you have any bread, that's awesome. I wouldn't have described myself as a picky eater before, but being here takes that to a completely different level. I won't even start with the 3 second rule. I am picky if I don't really want to eat the nose fat of the goat, but then again I think I'm ok with being classified as picky if those are the peramiters. I will still try it once, but I may not finish a whole plate of it. And as a general rule of thumb, if it's found in the states, it's probably better tasting here than it ever will be, and if it's not, well then it's a great story for later. Bottoms up!