Adventures of an Awkward Aspiring Journalist

Dal bhat, dal bhat, dal bhat, dal bhat. After repeating the words in my head, it sounded like nonsense. And after eating this same dish for 10 weeks straight in Nepal, it felt like punishment.

To be fair, Nepal’s national dish of lentil soup and steamed rice is quite delicious, in moderation. Fresh vegetables, beans, potatoes, and chicken can all be added to make a hearty dish. The blend of coriander, garam masala, cumin, and turmeric gives dal bhat its invigorating taste. For the more daring foodies, a side of pickle (often made with chili and other spices) will give the tongue a jolt.

I tried to be open-minded at the dinner table, but my body was not as receptive. Every nibble of pickle brought tears to my eyes and a burning sensation to my throat. My face turned red hot as the locals laughed good-heartedly at my weak Western taste buds. It is no surprise that "piro," or spicy, was the first Nepalese word I learned.

In the orphanage where I lived and volunteered, the family ate dal bhat twice a day. I never had to ask what was for dinner. Money was tight, so the family made do with the cheapest ingredients from street vendors. Many Americans do not realize that it is a luxury to have unlimited options for meals.

At breakfast and dinner, I watched the children scoop up big heaps of rice in their hands, with fingers pinched together to prevent the broth from dripping through. As a germaphobe, I opted for a spoon.

On a day when I couldn't stand the thought of eating another helping of dal bhat, I volunteered to whip up some classic American side dishes. The local grocery store had a limited selection, but I found enough to make deviled eggs and homemade applesauce. I hadn't made applesauce since 7th grade Home Ec. class, but I figured it couldn't be too hard. I dumped a half bag of cinnamon into the mix, not bothering to measure, then waited nervously for the children's reactions.

"Ooh, piro," Sujan, a 13-year-old boy said.

Oh no. Was it too spicy? I began to worry.

"Mitho," Sujan said to another boy. Mitho means "delicious” in Nepalese.

I had gained approval from my new Nepalese family, albeit accidentally. Despite our differences, a bizarre cross-cultural dinner of dal bhat, eggs, and apples had brought us together. No longer worried about dirt or germs, I dipped my finger into the applesauce and licked it clean, smiling to myself. I was beginning to feel at home.