Lentils

After a month of somewhat heavy spending consisting of new furniture purchases, I realized that my account had reached zero a few days before the next paycheck. Most volunteers go through this at some point; their account reaches zero before the monthly living allowance comes in, and so they are forced to break out their American debit card to get by. Fortunately, the conversion makes it so that one can purchase enough cheap foods for a month with the equivalent of 20USD. Unfortunately, I had already spent a good deal of money to buy a plane ticket to Los Angeles for August, so the thought of breaking into my American account was less than ideal for me.

I decided to finally use the lentils that I had received from another volunteer. In order to be sure of how to cook them, however, I decided to look up the method of preparation online. I had tried to make lentils before without looking up the method. I had assumed that one lets the water boil, places lentils in boiling water, then lets simmer for a while until done. I needed to be sure, this time, so I looked up recipe after recipe. They all read basically the same: LET WATER BOIL, PLACE LENTILS IN BOILING WATER, COVER, LET SIMMER 15-20 MINUTES. As I gathered what I needed, I was reminded of another volunteer, a young man who is using his time in between teaching at the youth center to become a body builder.

"A few weeks ago, my regimen consisted of eating three cups of lentils a day. They're so easy and cheap to make. You just put them in, wait, and they come out."

I laid out the tools before me: cup of lentils - check, pressure cooker - check, water - check, laptop to read instructions - check. Apparently, it is approximately 2-1 water to lentils to make sure that the lentils are prepared properly and don't dry out. As the water turned to boil, I slowly poured the cup of lentils into the pressure cooker, covered the lid, set to simmer, and sat down. I imagined what would happen. I remembered the other volunteers lentils.

"Oh, this thing? I just whipped them up and just threw these spices onto them, oh psh-shaw, they're not anything special."

But they were delicious, and he knew it. The lentils danced on my tongue, they swam in the small broth mixture that was left over. They enticed me to grab another spoonful, and the spices delicately combined on my taste buds to create a flavor that I had not tasted since before I had left for Morocco. The first time I made lentils, they drowned in the sludge of water, salt, and pepper that remained from the water. The second time I made them, they ended up dryer than when they were placed in. But not this time. This time, I made sure to compile all of the recipes that I could to get a consensus on how to make lentils. I would make these lentils the best lentils that I could possibly make. All the while, I kept hearing the volunteer's voice, as though he were looking over me.

"Oh, this thing? They're not anything special."

I stood over the pot, and as soon as the fifteen minutes were up, I opened the pressure cooker to check on them. The smell of popcorn immediately burst into the air, and I watched as some blackened lentils dotted the sides of the pressure cooker, and other lentils inexplicably burst and turned into what I can only refer to as pop-lentils. I held another cup of water in my hand, but simply drank it when I realized that nothing would be able to save them. I picked up the pressure cooker, leaned it over the sink, and poured out the water. I would collect the lentils and throw them out once they cooled.

I can't cook lentils. Bless my heart, I try. Oh how I try. I can try making up a recipe, or I can follow recipes to the minutest of details, but I can't make them. It has nothing to do with learning or watching, I physically cannot make them. It is as though the pressure cooker, lentils, and water become tainted when they interact with my pheromones, or maybe I am missing a genetic marker that lists its purpose specifically for cooking legume based meals. But I am incapable of making lentils.

And I'm okay with that. We each have gifts, skills, talents and abilities that make us unique and who we are. I am as genetically incapable of cooking lentils just as Mitt Romney is genetically incapable of showing empathy for the poor or as any Democrat is genetically incapable of having any spine to take a stand on issues, and that's okay, it's simply who I am. I have many other talents that I can continue to pursue throughout my life. We all do, and maybe living life is just about looking into that pressure cooker to realize just how much of a disaster you can make of things sometimes. Sometimes, what you put into the pressure cooker of life will be a book or a play, or maybe it will be a gift at sports, or maybe even the ability to raise a wonderful family. Sometimes, it just ends up being burnt lentils. But that's okay. Just empty the lentils, and try to find another recipe for something you can do, something that's more who you are.

For now, though, I think I am going to get some pizza.