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Archive for the ‘On the Road’ Category

True Tale of A Middle Eastern Stalker

Posted in On the Road, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 29, 2012 | 26 Comments »

“Out and About” Watercolor on paper. Copyright 2012 Totsymae/www.toshfombycom

To be honest with you, I don’t like thinking about Saudi Arabia. Yeah, I learned this and that but I rarely think about that place. Though, I would’ve stayed for the time I was committed but that’s a whole nother story. For your sake, and maybe ’cause I like y’all, I will periodically share the limited experiences I had.

As for me getting outta there, well, how can I put this in a way that makes me look good?…Okay. Here’s the unvarnished truth…

On my way out, while at the airport, the man who took care of employees’ visas didn’t know how to take care of employees’ visas. I didn’t know if my visa was good until I went through immigration at the airport. You’d think I’d know that prior to getting to the damn airport but I didn’t, nor did the fella who did the paperwork. I went to the Office of Immigration at the airport to check. First of all, I was pushed aside so that males who came to the window after me could get waited on. When I was called up again, the fella behind the window said, “What’s your problem?” in a scowling tone with the facial expression to match it. Stank Biaaaatch!

In the meantime, I’ve got other employees who were still at the compound constantly calling me to see if my visa’s any good cause they’ve got the same shit I do and I was the gineau pig since I was leaving before them. I also had Visa Guy calling, along with another Visa Guy out of Riyadh.

So. Like the bad ass I am, when I made it through immigration, I sent a text to Visa Guy in Al Jouf, where I was working. My text went like this:

U are so incompetent and a lazy liar. The inefficiency in which U handle simple business is so amazing. Prepare to cover your ass because I am not done.

This, folks, started Visa Guy to stalking me on my cell phone. He starting texting me every hour or so. I never responded. Shit, it was late and I was tired. Besides, I didn’t feel like acting a fool with him. I’d already done my part. He should’ve been in bed with his wife or enjoying Ramadan festivities, not bombarding me with text messages. Hell, I only sent him one and that should’ve been enough, right? And too, if he had done his job right, I’d never have sent him that message in the first place. His last message to me was:

My job tomorrow is how to teach you a lesson. U will be sorry ’cause u sent me indecent SMS. Get ready.

To give you a snippet of my response to that in an email to Visa Guy’s boss, I said:

Telling Mustafa (not his real name) that his work ethics and integrity was not indecent. It was necessary.

Anyhow folks, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it, alright? My sister said Mustafa never had a woman talk to him in such a way but instead of being mad about it, he should get down on his knees and thank me. Seriously. I worked indirectly with his wife day in and day out but did I bother teaching her any of my tongue-lashing skills? Absolutely not, folks. And as far as I’m concerned, Mustafa should be thanking the shit outta me.

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Know When You’ve Got “The Look”

Posted in Body Image, On the Road, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 24, 2012 | 29 Comments »

I know. I talked all that talk about how I was the shit in my skinny jeans, and I was. Folks, I didn’t know I had “The Look” wearing sweat pants too. I mean, hell, they’re sweat pants.

The day after I returned to the states, this is what I wore to the store. The same sweat pants I worked out in over in Saudi. By the way, I’m marinating on whether I should tell you about my texting altercation. I had to send a little email this morning to do some whistleblowing, so I’m in the witness protection program now. You being the witness and the alarm system on my house being the protection. My folks, inside my head that is, are telling me to lay low for now.

Anyhow. Where was I?…Hold on…Thought I heard somebody rubbing their backside against the house…Okay. Here I am. Well, I went to the grocery store, right? Now, the sweats I was wearing were fitted but I wasn’t thinking nothing about them. I was just trying to get me a little something to cook. By the way again, I’m gonna show y’all some more bumdiggety recipes. I just haven’t been real focused in the kitchen. Not that that’s anything new but you know what I’m saying.

So anyway, I’m pushing my cart and shit, right? I’m telling you the truth, folks. The worker in there, I think he was in the meat department, at least he looked the meaty type, was kinda following me. Asking me how I’m doing and whatnot. Could he help me find anything and all that willynilly. Like he didn’t have nothing to do but help me. You know, I wasn’t paying no mind. It was on one track, which was to get me some groceries. I was all about the business of feeding my face. Some other fella was trying to be all up in my dried breast milk too but I wasn’t thinking about nothing but them groceries, okay?

Well, I know fella number one was following me ’cause another day I went, there he was again trying to help me again and he was lingering and whatnot. He was going in another direction ’til he saw moi.I mean, shit, if anybody knows how to navigate a grocery store, I do, okay? And he was an okay enough looking fella. All big and strapping and whatnot. However, I was still reveling in the fact that I could even be in a store without an abaya, also minusing a damn bus waiting to take me back to a compound.

Now, I ain’t saying I’m all that. I’m making it, as we say in the south. However. Women folk need to be aware of when they’ve got “The Look.” And you don’t have to work it hard or nothing. Unless you’re selling. Know what I’m saying?…Oh, hell naw! I hear somebody clipping their toenails on the front porch. Let me make sure my alarm’s on.

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The Naked Man at My Door

Posted in On the Road, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on August 20, 2012 | 44 Comments »

“Player” Acrylic on paper. Copyright 2012 Totsymae.

I’m on home turf, folks! After the ruckus of getting back, I couldn’t speak. All I wanted was a peace of mind. Plus, I had  a lotta little things to do. Sorry I kept it on the downlow but I had to make myself realize it was real. That I could actually go where I wanted without asking anybody. That I didn’t have to wear an abaya and nobody else around here was either. That when I walked outside, the sun wasn’t beating the shit outta me. I’m telling you folks, I think I caught myself a touch of post-traumatic stress disorder. For real! Take my temperature.

For a minute, I kept walking outside my front door and just looking. It was green and whatnot. I heard birds chirping. It was way cooler than when I left ’cause I’mma tell you, freedom is precious. And you don’t truly understand how dear it is until you don’t have it. Even the damn sun on that side of the planet was like a warden. You can go out for two minutes and it’ll tell you, “Get your motherfucking ass back inside!” I ain’t lying.

Now, I mentioned the ruckus of getting back here, right? Oh, folks (puttng the back of the hand to my forehead,  falling to the  floor and getting back to the keyboard). I’m burning with fever over this disorder but I can’t go into it now. I thought I was ready to tell you about the texting altercation I got into while at the airport. Can you believe it? An innocent Southern Belle as myself…Well, I’m not totally innocent but what I said was totally warranted. Everything I say is warranted. I can declare that statement with my right hand on any book of fiction. Seriously! I’m an innocent woman and I’m standing on my word (folding arms and tilting the chin just a tad).

As for now, I’m gonna google myself up some free online therapy sessions to see what can be done for folk in my particular situation. And I know I have myself a “situation” ’cause I dreamt that a man came to my door wearing a damn towel and flip flops, talking about, “BOO!”  Shit! Had my ass waking up screaming all ugly and whatnot.

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This Is What Prayer Time Sounds Like

Posted in On the Road, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 6, 2012 | 35 Comments »

When it’s time for prayer, you’ll hear this. Whether you’re out and about shopping or whatever, the stores must close during prayer time. There are consequences for store owners if this doesn’t happen and yes, you’re rushed outta the store to honor this time. It does change. Prayer is five times a day. It also comes on TV to remind Muslims it’s time to pray, which I caught a recording of to share with you folks. When I was out last Thursday, I recorded it on my cell phone and sent it to folks but it wasn’t as clear as this.

I know that piece of art has nothing at all to do with this post but I put it with the recording anyway. On the miscellaneous side, you’d be glad to know I don’t get harrassed like the other women folk to cover my face. They all swore I would when I went to this shopping district called Chalupe Street. I told them I wasn’t covering ’cause it was too hot and that I’d tell that religious police (Matawa) I wasn’t. Well, I’ve been to Chalupe Street several times. I told those women folk, “I told y’all. They must know who I am. Hang with me and you won’t have a problem.” So, one of the Muslim women from Sudan was burning up under her hijab, which covers the nose on down. She took the hijab off and guess what? No problem. She was hanging with me like I told her. Or rather, I was hanging with her ’cause I didn’t know where I was going. It was my first time going there. She was so scared to take the thing off at first and the water she was drinking wasn’t helping. Even at 11 in the evening, it’s hot as all get out, I’m telling you.

Anyhow, here’s the sound of prayer in Arabic, folks. You may already know the deal but this is authentic stuff here. Don’t ask me nothing about what he’s saying. All I know how to say in Arabic is a dozen or so words and A, B and C.

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Day Ten of Ramadan

Posted in On the Road, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 29, 2012 | 33 Comments »

Mint Leaves. Photo by Totsymae. Copyright 2012

I was only good for two whole days of Ramadan. I just couldn’t not eat anything past sun-up on account that I couldn’t wake myself up at 4 a.m. to eat. Eating at 7:20 p.m. was too late too. I usually eat dinner around 4, so I guess you can say I couldn’t make the adjustment. Eating that late, when I woke up, I felt as if I’d just pushed back from the table the next morning and I wasn’t eating that much on an empty stomach. Interestingly enough, one of the Muslim women said her stomach felt really full in the mornings too.

There’s one Muslim chick here from South Africa who tickles me. I asked her, “How do you go without the water?” ’cause I kinda figured she wasn’t and she wasn’t. She told me while walking real fast to her villa, “I’m getting to my place as soon as I can. Going without water in this heat is not normal.” The other part is that right before Ramadan, her beau-friend flew in from Germany and she took the day off while everybody was off the compound. Need I say more? She’s going to the Phillipines soon to the beach and one Muslim woman asked her did she wear a bikini. The South African told her yeah but she’s gonna quit soon. I don’t know if she says that about smoking cigarettes too. It’s none of my business.

Another Muslim chick here, from the U.K., won’t eat in front of  folks during fasting time but once she gets back to her villa, before sundown mind you, it’s on like a bag of popcorn. She ain’t stuttin’ no fast, okay? I reckon it’s just as hard for them as it was for me.  What I find among the Muslim women here is that they’re very concerned about what others, especially Muslims, think of them. It’s always, “People are going to think…” or “What did they say about me?” They don’t like being on the outs with each other but they have just as many issues among each other than anybody else.

You’re not supposed to gossip either during Ramadan but they still do it. One Muslim chick was asked why she liked Ramadan the other evening at this dinner we went to at another woman’s place. The food was bumdiggety damn good too, by the way. Well, the Muslim chick went, ”Because it’s all about Allah, doing well, having a clean heart, not gossiping…” and yaddah damn yaddah. Lying self! She’s been talking about folk the whole time. I even stayed away from her at work so she could be a good Muslim woman during Ramadan but she’d come over to my villa some evenings talking about folks. Shit, folks are folks, just wearing a different costume.

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Tying the Ole Knot…And Tossing It Out

Posted in On the Road, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on July 23, 2012 | 37 Comments »

Young Lady with Henna.  This young lady’s brother was married and her hand was designed with henna. It’s customary for the bride to have this after marriage too. Copyright 2012 Totsymae.

Recently, I heard an interesting story about this Sudanese couple’s marriage. Just so you know, they’re Muslim too and speak Arabic. Two of the Arabic women have been here two years and there’s one who’s also a U.S. citizen now, though she’s very much Muslim. Understand, too, it’s not typical for Muslim women folk to marry nonMuslims. It’s, however, more acceptable for a nonMuslim woman to marry a Muslim man ’cause it’s believed he’ll influence her to convert to his faith, him being the man and all.

Now, the one Sudanese woman who’s also American is divorced. She was married to a  Sudanese Muslim. The interesting part about these marriages is they’re somewhat arranged. Same goes for Saudis too. The mother of the Saudi family will get to looking at her son and see that he’s ready for him a woman. She gets to scoping out young women folk from families she knows. It may even be a cousin she picks down the line somewhere. I don’t know how their babies turn out, so don’t ask, okay? I do know that when a young lady’s got something not considered normal with her, it’s kept on the hush ’cause it’s hard to get her married off. Though, back to the Sudanese marriage story.

Well, this Sudanese young lady was telling me why her friend divorced. Poor man had so much working against him. The friend didn’t like that her husband dipped his biscuit in his tea. That wet bread floating around in his tea, which is nasty to me  too, was a worriation to her. He also slurped when he drank hot liquids. Another strike he had against him was when they had guests, he’d eat most of the food. However, the absolute worst part of the union was when they had “relations,” he’d hop outta bed right in the middle of “it” and run to the bathroom. Don’t ask me what took place in that bathroom, okay? I didn’t wanna know, so I didn’t ask.

The same young lady who related this story was telling me how this prospect she’s looking at is “wanting” her real bad. I told her he was horny, which I had to explain the meaning. He’s 30 and virginal. They both are but his jones is down on him real hard. Just to hear her on the phone makes him wanna do it. She ain’t with that, okay? She wants somebody who can talk to her, make her laugh and all that good stuff. She’s like, “Totsy, what should I do?” in this little squealy voice.  I gave her my thoughts but in the end, I told her it looks no easier for Muslim folk than it does for us nonMuslims.

It’s either drinking the milk before buying the cow or getting buttermilk down the road. What do you think?

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Another Ride through The Kingdom

Posted in On the Road, tagged , , , , , , , on July 22, 2012 | 41 Comments »

I reckon ’cause this is suppose to be the Holyland, they call this place The Kingdom. Oh, it’s holy alright but we won’t get into that now. Take a look at these two videos I made with my very own movie camera. Watch out Steven Spielberg. What I find amazing is the sand sculptured up real high without anybody ever touching it. However did that happen so perfectly? In these deserts too, you’ll see tents set up by the nomads. I don’t think you’ll see them here but maybe I’ll get a better angle another time. And just so you know, Saudis are real proud of their coffee. It’s famous, they tell me but I’m not a coffee drinker myself. They offer it in tiny little cups, not all big in mugs like Americans do. Anyway, I drink it most times when it’s offered to me on account of my southerness. Tastes on the bitter side and real different, like ginger’s in there or something. If you like coffee, maybe I’ll bring you some to try. I don’t know. Depending on how you’re acting and whatnot. (wink, wink)

Here I’m on my way to shop at this grocery store called Othaim. I took this right before the start of Ramadan so you’d get a snippet of the town and whatnot. You don’t have to put riyals in a slot for a shopping cart like in Germany. Matter of fact, they don’t do coins here at all. If something costs 91.65 riyals, you pay 92. If something’s 91.15 riyals, you pay 91. Don’t let folk cheat you outta your riyals, okay? I know you’re real anxious to get over here and shop, which is a popular pastime over here. Besides, there’s not a thing else to do, at least in these parts. And it’s cheap as all get out to shop here too. Some things, that is. Food prices are real cheap. Shit, we’re getting ripped off big time in America. Anyhow, a-shopping we go…

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Day One of Ramadan

Posted in On the Road, tagged , , , , , , , , , on July 20, 2012 | 46 Comments »

Cup of Hibiscus Tea. Photo taken by Totsymae.

It’s not just about fasting. It’s a time to reflect and do all things in alignment with Allah. One of the Muslim chicks told me, “Totsy, you must be like us and not drink water if you are fasting during Ramadan.” I told her I was a guest and whatever I did in recognition of a holiday that wasn’t mine was as good as it was gonna get. I’m tired of telling her the same thing. I’m not Muslim.  And I already said I’d try it for as long as I could. Bump being thirsty, okay?

The thing of it is, too, it’s respectful, I guess, to not eat in front of them. Forgive me in advance if I forget. Should I break the fast, I’ll do my best to eat behind their backs. You feel me? However, I’ve never fasted without water and I’m not about to start in 100 plus temperatures.

What they, the Muslims that is, need to remember is that as a westerner, I’ve already been fasting from my life. Here’s a quick breakdown:

  1. The first 2.5 months, no TV. For all these near 4 months, I haven’t seen one episode of Basketball Wives or Braxton Family Values. There was a brief grieving period but I’m healed now. At least until I get back.
  2. I haven’t driven anywhere.
  3. I’ve been dealing with slow internet ever since I touched ground. I’ve thought how insane I must be to wait 30 minutes to watch a 5 minute video but I wanna see the damn video.
  4. I haven’t had a date in nearly 4 months. Well, I can’t put all that on being here. It’s actually been over a year but if I’d been on my regular stumping ground…Oh hell, who am I kidding…
  5. I can’t talk to men in public. Granted, I’m shy but damn, I can’t even say, “Go ahead of me in line,” if I get outta the grocery line to grab something I forgot. I was told very firmly to never speak with them.
  6. I haven’t gotten to strut my skinny jeans in public. I don’t care what any of you say about not liking skinny jeans. Stop hatin’.
  7. I have to get permission wherever I wanna go now. I’m a grown ass woman, okay? But I’ve been reduced to being like a kid asking my parents if I can have cookies from the sweet jar.

I could go on but I have to say, there have been some benefits. I’d like to think I’ve gained a lot more than what I’ve temporarily lost. Now, I’m gonna have me that cuppa tea you see a picture of here. Oh, I forgot to tell you I’m drinking tea and juice too but don’t tell anybody.

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Escaping from The Kingdom

Posted in On the Road, tagged , , , , , , , on July 17, 2012 | 28 Comments »

Google Image

Folks, folks, folks. You don’t realize how difficult it can be to get outta this place. At least where I am. I understand this is not an issue everywhere but it just so happens, for some odd reason, I’d end up in a place that’s akin to breaking outta hell. And it is hell too ’cause it’s hot as shit over here. I don’t know how many times I’ve told you that already but I can’t express that enough.

Well, as for getting outta this place, I’m gonna have to reference this most recent story of this fella from Canada. Honey chile, let me tell ya…

Now, this guy came from another site called Kasim. He was sent to the location I’m in for a few weeks. Now, before he left Kasim, he’d been approved for his exit visa. Had booked his ticket for the 15th before he even got to where I’m located. Well, the guy who’s over this site, who’s a Saudi, is one helluva of a little fella. He’s about five-one, if that, so I’m legit in saying that ’cause I saw him myself when I met the U.S. Ambassador to Saudi.

Well, this fella who came here, and we’ll call him Canada since that’s where he’s from and was trying to get back to, was determined to catch his flight. Only when he came here, Five-One wasn’t having it. Canada got pissed and went to the J-O-B and started writing graffitti on the wall of the workplace. He got as far as ‘Go to hell, Dr…’ and who shows up but the Secret Police. Secret Police asked why he was doing such a thing. Well, Canada was scared shitless, naturally. He didn’t know what was gonna happen to him. All this is taking place at night, okay?

By the time the bus comes for him, everybody on the bus sees Canada washing the wall where he’s painted his special note to Five-One. When Canada finished washing the wall, a female colleague told him, “The best thing for you to do is get outta here.” Say that with a British accent if you want all the special effects. Well, she got back to the compound and assumed the role as his travel agent. He got as far as Riyadh and Five-One, found out the next the next day. Told the folks in Riyadh not to give Canada no exit visa and to send his ass back this way where we are. I think he’s on his way back right about now, so the story goes.

But this is the nature of what we’re dealing with here. At least where I am, you don’t go where you wanna at will. Even during breaks for 10 days, we’re confined to the compound. The one coming up soon, Five-One was trying to stop that too. For 20 days, we’d have to be on the compound again, driving each other to madness ’cause that’s where folk are headed with so few liberties. Even the Muslim women folk from other places are finding this a very difficult place to be. When I arrived in Riyadh, the driver told me, “Saudi is unlike any other place in the world.” Let’s hope so.

Anyhow, there was a petition put out, which I signed this morning, to put an end to Five-One controlling us the way he’s been. Little shit. Turns out Five-One’s decision was overridden, so I think he’s about five and one-half inches now. What I’d like to know is why y’all didn’t tell me what I was getting myself into when I came over here?

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Preparing for Ramadan

Posted in On the Road, tagged , , , , , on July 14, 2012 | 31 Comments »

Watercolor on paper. Copyright 2012 Totsymae

Ramadan lasts 30 days. It starts July 20th and you can count 30 days out to know when it ends. It doesn’t start the same day every year though. I haven’t figured why yet but understand that it changes. During Ramadan, fasting starts from sun up to sundown. You can’t be cheating with little whatnots during this time. You can’t even drink water. Imagine that. In all this heat, you’ve gotta be without water during the hottest parts of the day. Business is totally shut down during fasting time and opens at sundown.

Muslims spend weeks stocking up on what they will need for this time.  I understand that folk pretty much gorge out on the food ’cause I gather they’re pretty hungry when sundown hits.  In the case of health issues, folk can do what they can during Ramadan, like drink water, if they can’t go without it. Me, myself, I wouldn’t go without water regardless. I just couldn’t. But I have been asked by the Muslim women folk if I was going to do Ramadan stuff with them. They seem to really like me and to be honest, I’ve fallen in love with these women. They’re fun and we have great laughs together. While they do have their own drama, I’ve found them much easier to be around than the western women folk here, actually. Anyhow, I think I should experience  the practice of Ramadan since I’m here but of course, I’ll be drinking myself plenty of water. At least, I’ll do it for as long as I can. I won’t promise 30 whole days but I’ll put in a good effort, and I say that only ’cause I don’t typically eat late at night or past 5, for the most part.

Anyhow. There will be lots of praying going on and knowing what I know that’s happened today…Ahem, ahemmm (Cough, choke, cough)…We’ll talk about that later, okay?

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Vanity at Its Finest

Posted in Body Image, On the Road, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 11, 2012 | 28 Comments »

I try to keep things in perspective. I really do. I’m a laid back kinda person but today, folks, I wore myself some skinny jeans for the first time. Awhile back, Little Totsy tried to get me to buy some but I wouldn’t. I thought those things were for real young folk. However, it hadn’t escaped me that everybody who wore skinny jeans shouldn’t have been wearing them but of course, that’s my opinion. I’m just sayin’.

Well, I worked those jeans pretty good, folks. I didn’t know I had it in me. Correction: I didn’t know I still had it in me. And I’m gonna be real honest with you. I thought I looked so good, I could hardly sit my ass down. I kept finding places to walk to so folk could see me. To the restroom. To this office and that one. To grab a bite to eat. To this and that building. If someone wanted me to go somewhere with them, I’d hop up like a jack-in-the-box, ready to go show off again. It’s a wonder I didn’t trip and fall somewhere. You know how shit happens, right?

Not only was I walking everywhere I could think, I was thinking about myself a lot too. You ever do that? You know, it was nothing deep of course. Just vain shit ’cause I was full of vanity today, right? I even got to thinking when I went outside wearing my abaya, ‘It’s too damn bad I gotta wear this thing so nobody else will enjoy me in my skinny jeans.’ I was truly trippin’, right? I told folk today, “I look so good today, I won’t be going straight to the compound,” as if I had car keys to go somewhere different, knowing damn well that’s the exact place the bus would be headed. That’s where it’s always headed.

On the bus this morning, I told my manager, “Just so you know, on the last day here (since we’re moving), I’m going to the corner store without my abaya.” I may get me another pair of skinny jeans for that occasion with a pair of stilettos and send a shout out to Linda before I get hauled off to the big house.

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Hummusing My Way through the Kitchen

Posted in On the Road, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on July 9, 2012 | 40 Comments »

Okay, so I got it down pat on how to do this hummus thing. I hope you like it ’cause that’s what we’ll be doing here today, folks. I’ll trust you washed your hands before you came into my kitchen. So. Let’s grab yourself an apron and get started…

Food processor, bowl and metal spoon with holes in it

Here’s your equipment for making the hummus. You’ll also need a stove and a pressure cooker but we’ll get to that later. Be patient. As you can see, I’ve got a little wear on my food processor. Never mind that. It’s only carrots. Again, I’m using the salad bowl ’cause I ain’t had time to go buy anything else, okay? This ain’t my regular kitchen and given the time I had to be back on the shopping bus when I did buy the salad bowl, I grabbed the only thing I could find. (Throwing my hand on my hip) Now,  I’m sure you knew you at least needed a stove. If not, you’re a lot worse off than I thought but let’s hope you’re not ’cause if you came here to learn how to really cook, I’m sorry, folks, you’ve stumbled yourself onto the wrong blog. I’m just gonna tell you like it is. I don’t believe in wasting folks’ time. Know what I’m saying?

White vinegar, Tahini, Salt, Soaking Chickpeas, Garlic and Lemon

Here are your ingredients, obviously. Need I say more?

oooooOOOOOOOooooo 

 

In case you’re worse off than me in the kitchen, this is a demo of a pressure cooker on the stove. You want those chickpeas to be pressured in that cooker for about 45 minutes. For you Rachel Ray fans looking for a 30 minute dish, go on back over to her site ’cause 45 is more than 30, okay? But it’s not like you’ve gotta stand over the cooker. Set your timer. You also need to add in your salt before you get those peas to cooking, alright? Don’t even ask me how much. I don’t remember, so use your good judgement. Besides, you know how your tastebuds work better than I do. I really shouldn’t have to tell you everything. (Clicking my tongue and rolling the neck)

 oooooOOOOOOOooooo

I forgot to photo the part where I put the cooked peas in the food processor. Use your imagination, okay? Now, you want those peas ground up in that processor real fine. And I hope you boiled those peas 45 minutes like I told you. You don’t want to use no regular pot like I did the first time, with some half-boiled peas and your hummus ends up tasting like cement. Uh uh, you don’t want that at all! I’m here to tell ya.

oooooOOOOOOOooooo

Hummus all mixed up

 I know. This bowl looks real clean for me to have mixed up all those ingredients in here, right? For presentation sake, this is how it looks. Now, you wanna grate you up a few garlic cloves in there. I can’t tell you how many ’cause that all depends on how much you like garlic. You also want about…Shit, I can’t tell you how much of nothing to add since I didn’t tell you how many cups of peas or servings I was making. Hell, I don’t even remember, which is why I’m not a chef or trying to be one. Just mix the suff up ’til it’s got about this consistency and you’ll be fine.

 oooooOOOOOOOooooo 

Hummus and Carrot Sticks

Okay, so this ain’t no food photography class. I never said I was good at photographing nothing, did I? But I’m telling you, this hummus is good. It doesn’t matter how pretty you cut the carrots, alright? You still have to chew’em up. What matters is how the food tastes and that I made this dish over here in the middle of the east. ’Til next time, y’all. (wink, wink)

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