“Eliza! Come and Mango!” A command from Fiona last night. It’s finally mango season. The North is littered with mango trees but for my first 6 months in Ngai they were a big tease. While the mango trees of other parts of the country produce year round, ours torture us throughout the dry months, waiting until May to bear fruit. May has come and I can’t keep up! Today alone I was given multiple mangos by FIVE different people!!! It’s an epidemic! Everyone I met is either holding a mango, eating a mango, or talking about mangos. Children sit on the edges of the muddy roads with massive heaps of them, hoping that people won’t notice that the sweet fruits are now falling out of the sky like rain. If there’s ever been an example of ‘to much of a good thing’ this is it. After wishing and waiting for what felt like an eternity, I’ve been struggling to eat all of the mangos that I’m given. Can you overdose on mangos? I think I’m on the brink. I must start searching for a solution to my luxurious problem in the forms of jams, chutneys and cobblers- if only I had the time and oven do meet the challenge.
It’s a truly delicious dilemma.
(No joke- as I was writing this Tamale handed me yet another mango.)
Love mango time. Ever see a cow drunk on fermented mangoes? Now that's good fun.
ReplyDeleteNot yet but I'm sure if mangoes were fermenting around here it would be the people getting drunk not the cows. Alcoholism is one of the unfortunate but tangible effects of life in the IDP camps.
ReplyDelete