A lame day

Today was kind of a lame day. The island power plant is having work done which means portions of the island undergo periodic power outages. Ours just happens to be every morning from 9-2 for the next 3 weeks, and sometimes in the evenings. Power outages doesn’t just mean using candles for the evening: it means no air conditioner, no internet, no power-point in the classrooms, no water once the reserve tank is empty, no fridge, etc. The novelty began to wear off last night when I tried to cook dinner by candlelight. Not to mention lying awake at night in the sweltering heat with mosquitoes buzzing around my head.
Today we had one of our classes outside in the open-walled cafeteria with a nice hot breeze blowing through. My arm has been hurting a lot lately (I have some kind of tennis elbow that is exacerbated by typing and writing and is so painful that I have to take a painkiller just to fall asleep), so I had to type all day with my left hand and while I’m getting faster, it is a nuisance. I haven’t slept more then 5 hours a night since I got here so I’m pretty tired.
I came home at lunch time and forgot my key and had to climb in a window only to find no electricity anyway. I was planning on inviting a professor over for dinner so I popped over to the grocery store to buy some food. I had been thinking about apple crumble, but there were only 3 apples in the store…. and 5 rotting bananas. The lady gave me the bananas for free.
I have this awesome recipe from the Sanz that is a ham-banana casserole served over rice (I know it sounds gross), but it is absolutely phenomenal. I had it at their house and written down the recipe in detail and it looked pretty easy so I thought I’d try it.
During lunch break I went to sautee the bananas…. There was a reason I got the bananas cheap. They didn’t brown nicely like the recipe said, they turned into a giant mass of mashed bananas. I didn’t have curry powder, I had curry paste, and when I added it, it turned into a reeking giant mass of mashed bananas. I didn’t have time to salvage my dignity before class so I just left it in the fridge.
After school I talked to my professor and then I invited another new student to come over and I talked to my housemate Asa and he agreed that he would drive home with Burton at 6:00 for dinner. It was just past 5 and I wanted to run anyway so I ran home (with the key!)
I furiously started cooking. I made this amazing looking salad and tried to resurrect the banana dish. Since I obviously couldn’t roll the bananas in the ham slices (and since they were turkey slices anyway), I decided to layer them in the pan. It began to look worse and worse. It was now a reeking giant mass of mashed curried bananas and turkey. I sprinkled parmesan cheese on and threw in some sliced onions and shallots and some frozen corn niblits and more layers of turkey and grated goat cheese and chili powder and salt and popped it in the oven nervously. I decided to name it ‘Vancouver delight’.
We had no rice….I decided to cook pasta instead. I was hot and still hadn’t changed from running by the time 6:00 arrived. Dr. Gilbert showed up with some drinks and I waited until the dinner was finished cooking and then decided to have a quick dip in the pool with him while I waited for the other guys.
The pool was lovely and warm and we stayed out there for ages, talking about medical things, and listening for the sound of the gate opening.
At 7:00 I was feeling more and more upset and I finally said to Dr. Gilbert, we should just eat. I put the now-cold dinner on the table and was feeling like I wanted to kill Burton and Asa when suddenly I heard them pull up. They breezed in the door and obviously didn’t notice the thundercloud over my head, cause when I asked where Leera (the other guy) was, Asa said, “Oh no, I forgot him!” and they said they’d been at St. James’ club down the street. I was smoking mad by now but I didn’t really say anything and we started to eat dinner.
I knew right away that it was one of the worst meals I’d ever cooked. The pasta was like glue and underneath the turkey slices I could see lumps of graying bananas. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Dr. Gilbert discreetly removing the pickled beets from his salad and next to him, Burton was strategically serving himself casserole from the pan and dousing it with tomato sauce like it was going out of style. I felt like crying. I think they must have known I felt insecure about it, because after awhile they started to compliment it.
“This is SOOO good, Heather.”
“Wow, HD (that’s Asa’s nickname for me), you sure know how to cook!”
“What is this delicious cheese mixture on top? It tastes like it has Cajun spice.”
They went on and on.
“Don’t say anymore.” I said graciously, but I was quite serious. The next person that compliments Vancouver delight is going to get a spoonful in his face, I was thinking.
“I love the salad.” Dr. Gilbert kept saying over and over again. “I’m really glad you’re making me eat vegetables, Heather!”
When we were done I started to clear the table and then realized the cardinal sign of a completely failed meal. The casserole pan was still half full. Burton and Asa eat enough for 4 or 5 people and for them to leave a small casserole dish half full meant that they hated it. I put the dishes in the sink and Asa said, “HD, you are such a gourmet cook!” And I told him, “thank you, but that is the worst meal I’ve ever cooked.”
Burton kindly put a hand on my shoulder. “Uh…no, sweetie, that’s not the worst meal you’ve cooked. I’ll be honest with you.”
Burton and Asa gave each other a knowing look and then I saw them take two new plates out of the cupboard and head back to the table. They sat down and Asa picked up the spoon and divided the rest of the casserole between the two of them and they began to eat it. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. These two guys were such Southern gentlemen that they were going to finish that casserole if it killed them. Burton had left one large slimy chunk of graying banana in his bowl and even though I knew he hated cooked bananas I said wickedly, “Aren’t you going to eat that too?”
He looked like he might throw up but he picked it up and shoveled it down. I put the ice cream on the table and Dr. Gilbert was watching me worriedly and laughing a bit.
“Look at this girl!” Asa said. “She didn’t just make us dinner, she made us dessert too!”
“You’re something else, Heather!” Burton said.
“You two better watch out.” Dr. Gilbert said to them, looking at me. “I don’t think you’re reading her very well.”
“HD’s the best cook ever.” Asa said.
I’d had enough. I burst into tears. I got up from the table and ran down into my room.
At least my room was air conditioned. I sat on the bed and cried and felt like a failure. I was mad they hadn’t had the decency to come home for dinner and then mad dinner was so horrible and then mad that they ate it anyway and said it was good.
After a while I thought about the important things in life. And how cooking Vancouver delight was probably not one of them. And how being late for dinner was no big deal, they weren’t mean-hearted, they’d just forgotten. And how they had ate all that casserole trying to make me feel better.
I came upstairs and they all apologized and I apologized and it was all right. I washed the dishes and killed 3 cockroaches and then packed my things and decided to go stay at my classmate Nikki’s place. Burton wouldn’t let me walk alone in the dark and he told me to get in the car and I left anyway and he came after me and we argued about it until I got in the car and he drove me over.
Maybe it’s that time of month. I don’t know. I’m not sure how long I’ll stay at Nikki’s house but it might be for a while. Nikki understands why I was upset that my meal didn’t turn out. Nikki’s toilet seat is never up. Nikki’s shower is hot and she doesn’t have cockroaches and she has a generator for electricity.