Rice with extra bugs!

Posted by Rebecca on September 05, 2013 · 4 mins read

Tonight Aaron showed me how he prepares rice in the rice cooker, including rinsing the rice. Here, the rinsing is up to 10 different water washes due to the excessive bugs in the rice and well, I'll leave it at that. The simplest things still escape me here. Could be the heat, could be that I never really learned how to cook rice. Or run a washing machine. Or run a motorbike... Okay, could just be that I'm struggling with simplicity and my personal frustration peaked today when I turned the pot of vegetables I was cooking/steaming into little black-ended crisps. If novelty keeps the mind young, my brain is operating at a 4th grade level right now. The fish I lovingly bathed in butter and garlic had somehow either turned bad in our extra, extra frosty fridge, or I didn't buy tuna. One bite had me spitting it out and then washing my mouth out after.

Those of you who know me, and that would be the entirety of the audience of my little blog here, know that I pride myself on my capability. My independence, ingenuity, ability to learn and adapt. That whole concept of myself is being challenged on a very fundamental level. When the washer started shooting water all over the newly laid concrete blocks behind my house, when I couldn't tell the maid much of anything since my Tagalog is limited to hello and sorry, left and right, and I turned dinner into a mass of possibly ruined pots, I find myself pacing the tiny house in ever-tightening circles wondering how I've been bested.

Speaking of maids, ours is Terry. She's 51, 90 pounds soaking wet, and washes all of our clothes in a plastic tub by hand. She hangs them out on these strange, welded drying cubes, then irons every piece before stacking them all in Aaron's hall closet. I wanted to ask her how to keep ants out of the kitchen, but while I was trying to put that question into monosyllabic terms she might understand, I watched her take down the bowl of rice she brought for lunch and casually flick out the mass of ants feasting on it before eating it herself. Guess I'll figure out the ant infestation on my own!

Another strange element here is the motorbike. Transportation has always been a symbol of independence for me and I whiled away any boredom or need for adventure in Thailand and Indonesia on my motorbike. I'd take day-long rides to explore the area, or just an hour to find a new beach or temple to sit in. In Manila, I have yet to ride the bike further than a kilometer. I've never made it out of my Barangay.

I'm not stir-crazy yet, mostly due to the absolute newness of everything. How buying groceries means learning who has the best wagon of fruits and vegetables pulled out into the street, enjoying egg pie and not understanding how the crust is so stiff it feels like my teeth could crack on it, and what the hell do I do with that pile of bitter orange/lime fruits on the table. I take great comfort in the company of Aaron, whose eager to try the Sizzle restaurant down the street, or the noodle joint his co-workers shudder as they pass. His sense of adventure might even surpass my own. It just might.