The only thing that distressed me at my sisters’ house was lack of tea. On my first evening, we finished the delicious food served in beautiful china and then cold water from the refrigerator was brought in a jug. I declined. In OlKalou we drank water when we were thirsty. I wasn’t thirsty now, and I had not asked for water. What I was now waiting for was a cup of tea to complete my meal. None was offered.
Instead, the dishes were washed, dried and put away and the lights were turned off in the kitchen. Say what? I was about to pop a vein. What about tea? I was smart enough not to ask but I went to bed thinking they probably forgot. No they didn’t. That is how meals were served in this fancy home of my sophisticated sister. Tea was only served with breakfast and that was it. Did she forget we always ended our meals with a cup of tea? How can you eat such wonderful meals and then water them down literally with ice cold water?
But, our parents had trained us never to question or comment on food or drink offered in people’s homes. If you visit a family and they offered you porridge with no milk or sugar, you drank it with gratitude, never showing any signs of discomfort. We were never to embarrass our hosts by asking for more than we were offered. That is why I never asked about the tea situation, instead I learnt to do without it for that one month.
But I enjoyed plenty of other beverages I had never tasted before. Cold beverages like Ribena, Lucozade, Apricot juice from Trufood and the familiar Tree Top orange that my parents bought for us once in a long while. There were also hot beverages like Milo, Ovaltine and Cadbury Drinking Chocolate. I even tasted a delicious Knorr Mushroom soup that came in powder form in a beautiful green and yellow sachet, and it cooked in just a few minutes in boiling water. I had no idea mushrooms were edible. The ones we knew in OlKalou grew wild in the forest and nobody ever thought of them as food. When I tell you I experienced culture shock one day after another, you better believe me.
Everything was magical in this house. So unreal. My sisters’ pantry was like a shop, with beautiful boxes and packages holding delicious stuff in them. How can one small family have so much stuff in their house? Were my diehard parents aware of this situation?
Anyhow, meals at my sisters’ house were varied and delicious, I guess because they were made for only four people, including me, their tea deprived visitor.
