"I de smell home"

In my lessons from Nigerians Suleiman and Mustaffa on West African Pidgeon English, I learned the phrase "smell home" the other day. The idea is that, when in your travels you are nearing the time of your return home, you can "smell home" more and more each day.

Last night I actually did get to smell home, in a way. Some of my friends got placed in the Graduate Village flats as their living quarters for the semester due to the lack of available rooms in Vegas. These flats are for adults, and come fully equipped with stove, range, sink, cupboards, and an assortment of pots, pans, random dishes, and oddball silverware from the years of tenants. After spying a large bag of beets in the grocery store for about P10 ($1.55), and a decently-priced container of feta cheese, I decided that I had a craving for one of my favorite foods: beet pizza. So last night my craving was satisfied. I went to 417-A1 and boiled beets, Grady and Caitlin made super-basic pizza crusts, and I oiled 'em up and covered 'em with beet slices and crumbled feta. After cooking them in the oven, I pulled them out, doused them in honey, and we made attempts at cutting them for serving.

People were pretty skeptical at first, but by the end, everyone who tried it liked it. Beet pizza was a hit with my American friends, as well as my Nigerian friends, and I would consider the evening a success. On a random note, Suleiman decided to include me in the acknowledgements of his dissertation and had me spell out my name for his manuscript last night. Cool!

Anyway. The smell of cooked beets really brought me home last night, and with exactly 30 more days to go here, I de smell home more day for day.