Just swallow!

Dassa-Zoume, Benin is a “city” on the north-south road that is the main artery of this small country. On day 3 of a 5-month stint, we sat down at a table at a bustling roadside restaurant. I looked to my left and saw the muscular arms of a petite woman pounding a white substance in a wooden mortar. Her arms moved with such precision and strength that I was instantly hypnotized. As I am familiar with African cuisine, I knew that she was preparing a typical starch found in many countries, which serves as the main staple of most meals. Here, it is known as igname pilée, known in other West African countries as fufu. It reminded me of day old porridge and looks just as appetizing. When the plate was set in front of me, I did everything I could to mask my hesitation to consume this food. The igname pilée was accompanied by a spicy tomato sauce with tiny fish ,which is common here. We were not given forks, as your right hand serves as the fork, using the igname pilée as an assistant to scoop the tomato sauce and fish into my mouth. I took a small handful in the fingers of my right hand. I dipped it in the sauce and as I raised it to my mouth, my taste buds braced themselves. I put it in my mouth and instantly swallowed it. The first bite missed my taste buds. I tried again, realizing I would have to finish the entire plate, so as not to offend. I picked up another piece and this time allowed it to stay on my tongue. The texture was quite the turn off. I chewed a bit and swirled it around in my mouth before forcing it down my throat. While the tomato sauce was quite good despite the super hot spices, the fish was too fishy and the texture of the igname pilée was something I did not like in my mouth. Despite my tongue’s protest, I continued to eat until my plate was empty. After this experience, I realized that I wouldn’t be able to be so polite every time someone offered me igname pilée. So in the 5 months that followed, I only had it twice, requesting rice as a substitute.