Back when I lived in Jerusalem I used to complain about the
smog in the city, the over-crowded traffic, grimy streets and lack of yard
space for children to play. There weren’t many single houses but there were
loads of apartments piled on top of each other.
Throughout
the week I would make my way to the various organic markets to purchase
organic, unpasteurized goat milk, buffalo cheese, organic fruits and vegetables
and a whole host of other items that I felt added health value to our lives. I
also shopped at the open markets and felt a sense of connectedness to the
produce, spices and meats being sold. I tried hard to overlook the flies and
bloody hands of the butcher who never wore gloves when he prepared our meat for
purchase.
With my few
square inches of grass, we planted tomatoes, a fig tree and some spices. We bought a bunny on Janglo and allowed it to
hop around the house since there wasn’t space for it outside. Our mini harvest
was enough to feed our toddler with fresh tomatoes and the herbs did fairly
well in the Jerusalem sun. During those days I’d moan about the need for fresh
air, yard space for kids and all the gardening I would do if I had more yard
space.
The time for
living in Jerusalem quickly came to an end as my husband’s studies finished up
and the Haredi Jews were amping up their terrorist demonstrations against the non-Jews
and “illegal Africans who were moving into the neighbourhood. I wonder who they
were talking about….?
We arrived back home in Bermuda where I was also surprised to
find less grass and yard space then I remembered when I was a kid. I was happy
when I managed to find fennel, butterflies and snails as these were becoming
scarce on my island.
I
made my weekly trips to the farmer’s market, scoured the grocery store for natural and
organic items and purchased goat milk when I could afford it. I had given up on
my expectation of consuming all-things-organic but as much as I could I ate
healthy foods.
On Sundays
we would scavenge the island for wild local fruits. The definition of wild
being any fruit that was within reach or reasonable climbing apparatus. These
fruits would become snacks for the kids during the week, jams, chutneys, syrups,
cakes, pies or pancakes. Once again I bemoaned the lack of free space, the
inability to purchase my own cow, and what I would do if I had more yard space.
My husband
made a good go of planting what he could and soon we had peaches, figs, guava
flowers and loquats growing in our yard seasonally. Some parts of the yard were
off limits to us since he had also constructed beehives for honey harvesting. As the honey flowed so did the ants-many of
them but it was ok because in my own way I was connected to the nature that I
longed for.
As the
recession hit harder and the glass ceiling began to feel that it was pressing
against my head our time in Bermuda came to an end. We moved to Nairobi, Kenya.
As we alighted the plane the thick air began to fill my lungs as the noisy
traffic filled my ears. As we walked out
of the airport I noticed the grimy sidewalks. Once again we were in the city. My
first mission was to find an organic store. Thankfully even though we were in
the city we had a little garden where we planted vegetables and had space
enough for proper bunny cages.
A visit to
Masai land afforded me a chance to get a milking goat-with Masai markings and
all! We were still in the city so the
goat would eat plants that were for decoration and bleat all day until someone
came home and gave it attention. Let’s just say we weren’t the most popular
neighbours in town…
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