“There is a prevailing theory that we need to know much more than we do in order to feed ourselves well. It isn’t true.
Most of us already have water, a pot to put it in, and a way to light a fire.
This gives us boiling water, in which we can do more good cooking than we know.”
-Tamar Adler, An Everlasting Meal
These words from Tamar Adler’s book crept into my heart last year. She perfectly describes the humility of boiling a pot of water to prepare a meal… any meal, from plain boiled potatoes to creamy lobster pasta. Just boil water. Start there. The result will be divine, no matter what.
I’ve carried that sentiment around for the past year, sometimes (more often than not) setting aside the beautiful simplicity of boiling water for things like Chocolate Orange and Pistachio Cinnamon Rolls.
I suppose it took some time for Tamar’s words to settle into my system, but I’m thankful they did. Today I learned what it really means to boil water from a little girl named Kevin, and her sister Christine.
Kevin is a serious little girl. She makes you work hard for the telltale signs of childish joy that I’m used to seeing in nine year olds. Her heart is heavy. Her mother is mentally ill and frequently abandons her. Stability hasn’t been a constant for her and that burden sometimes trumps her the joy inside. It’s there though… oh, it’s in there.
Kevin’s sister Christine is one of my favorite kinds of people: she’s quick to laugh and has the most beautiful smile. She’s a natural caretaker. You can see it in the way she glides from hut to hut sweeping up, washing up, cooking up, and adoring her husband, son, and sister. She’s effortless, easy, and has a graceful heart full of kindness.
I remember visiting Tracy‘s house last November for Thanksgiving. Tracy is the spot of welcome and calm when festivities pulse around her. I found that same peace a continent away in Christine. That grace is universal.
How much grace do you need to boil water? Well…. a lot. It’s a journey that starts with an empty castor oil jug, a long walk, a mud stove, and ends in a cup of tea and cookies. It’s more than a hike for hot water and cookies, it’s about a beautiful and loving life.
I have to tell you about this.
Boiling water starts here. It starts here by first going away from here; a 2 kilometer walk to the nearest fresh water spring.
After a good haul from home we reach the fresh spring. It’s been built up to support the community that surrounds it. This is the dry season, but the locals say that the rainy season, this is a rushing water source.
Kevin goes in, like she does every morning, to fill the jug.
The road back home is filled with edibles!
Castor beans are pressed for cooking oil. The last of the corn harvest is dried in the sun. Papayas are piling up! Sorghum grain!
Can I just tell you what this day feels like? It’s warm enough outside to feel the sun tempting my skin with a sunburn. The grass is just losing its morning fresh feel and starting to warm for the day. The breeze, especially in the shade of Christine’s thatched roof house, is worth living for. And in that… Christine washes the dishes with all the water brought back from the spring.
Christine’s kitchen is the mud hut behind her. Inside, light shines down from the edges of the thatched roof, empty water jugs line one corner, fire wood branches lean against another corner, a small wood-fire burner built into a third corner heats the entire room, and even though the floors are made of mud… it’s impeccably clean.
Kitchens are always my favorite room in a house. I could sit in Christine’s doorway, hiding from the sun but heated by the stove at my back all day.
This metal bowl looks like it has met with a few bumps, stones, and flames along the way. The rim is dinged and the sides charred black.
And just like that, care is forged.
Breakfast, lunch, and supper emerge bubbling and warm from this mud stove. Every day a new fire. Every day a new bowl of boiling water.
It’s simple, earnest, and exactly what it should be.
I love the happy anticipation that a plate of cookies and clean empty mugs brings.
Water for hands, naturally and of course.
‘It’s not time for cookies until I get back and pour the tea, so don’t even think about it,’ said every mom ever.
A spoonful of sugar to go around,
and warm mugs of sweet black tea for everyone.
It’s a simple snack that at its heart is about comfort and gathering. A moment in the day to sit, be, and enjoy a little sweet.
So what does it mean to boil water? Just everything. It’s nourishment in the beans Christine simmers for dinner. It’s comfort in the tea she serves every morning for breakfast. It’s community when her cousins and mother-in-law come from across the way for a visit. It’s an afternoon snack tradition. It’s cleanliness. It’s supper. It really is everything!
Kevin is one of 281 children nurtured by Compassion here in Lira, Uganda. She’s slowly emerging from under life’s burdens through the care, education, access to health care, good food, and prayer she receives at school. Because of special gifts from Kevin’s sponsor, the family was also able to purchase a goat. The goats provide milk (and other goats) to the family. Nourishment they can take in. Milk and baby goats they can sell to market. Care for the entire family. Not only does Compassion nurture Kevin through education and spiritual growth, Compassion also nurtures the people that care for Kevin. Real, tangible support. It works. It’s really cool.
If something as simple as boiling water can mean so much, just imagine what kind of impact our combined care support will have on families around the world.
More from Uganda from Chatting at the Sky, The Nester, Jeff Goins, and Shaun Groves.
Compassion provided me a link to share with you. I am in no way compensated for your sponsorship or donation. I love you and I’m glad you’re here with me on this journey.
coralcrue
beautiful smiles I can imagine. beautiful children of God.
Hata Trbonja
Such a simple task that has so much meaning. I will never think of boiling water the same way again. Thank you Joy.
carpe season (@carpeseason)
This post makes me happy in the most nostalgic of ways. I spent a year or so teaching in South Sudan – not so far from Lira, in relative mappy terms. The cooking kitchen – called a tukul over the border at least – is so achingly familiar…as are the dishes, the fires, the goats, the castor oil jugs. So thankful for these words, images, and emotions that you are sharing this week. And the news of Compassion’s work that you are spreading is nothing but good.
Kim
My husband and I have sponsored a compassion child in Bolivia for 3 years. Sometimes I wonder if it really makes a difference in his life but after reading your post, I believe it does! Thank you for making the trip and letting us know what a difference Compassion International really does make.
Courtney @ Neighborfood
Joy, thank you for telling these stories. And for telling them so well. I can almost feel the Ugandan sun and see the children’s smiles when you describe it. It makes my heart burst and ache at the same time.
m e l
seriously love this and the memories it brings back for me. the images of women and children hauling those yellow jerry cans of water up and down the roads of uganda are engraved in my mind forever. the cookies reminded me of the day we made g-nut butter cookies and took them to the kids at an orphanage. they had never had a cookie before. oh the little things.
Taylor
I love this! So gorgeous and inspiring! In fact, it was so inspiring, that I’ve already signed up to sponsor a child in Uganda. It feels great to help, even if it’s in a little way.
Thank you,
xoxo
Taylor
http://www.welcomehometaylor.com
Lauren Michelle Major
What a beautiful post! I love the pictures that accompany it.
https://howtomakehome.blogspot.com
roseluzon
hey joy! i’ve been reading your blog about a year and love it! i love your photo’s and recipes and i think you’re super funny and a great writer which keeps me coming back often! anyway, i spent the last year living in Uganda working for Sseko Designs which you should totally check out if you have any time left in Kampala. i just left Uganda on Saturday night to move back to America and thought it was SO crazy that you were just going there! i hope you have such a great time in uganda, i’m missing it already!
Shana
I’m sorry Joy I really love you and your blog – but this whole project leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I understand providing people with aid but don’t know why spreading Christianity needs to go along with it.
Sara
This brought back so many memories of my time in the Peace Corps just on the other side of the border in Kenya. Sharing a cup of tea with my neighbors was a daily activity. After a while it became an essential part of my day. Thank you for sharing your experience and I’m grateful for the reminder of all the lessons I learned in East Africa.
Sarah P.
This is a beautiful post, Joy. I am going to buy An Everlasting Meal because that quote at the beginning is wonderful. It sounds like an excellent read. Thank you for sharing your experiences with us!
Mindy
Joy, thank you for sharing your time in Uganda with us! My family currently sponsors children through Compassion and it is so, so cool to be able to see them in action through your photos and blog. We see their work through communication with our children and newsletters, but to see it “on the ground” is a very awesome perspective!
kimiko
I think these are my favourite posts to read of yours. I hate to read any sort of negative comment when this visit and this charity is rooted in kindness and love. A beautiful post Joy!
Becky Kozak
What an incredible post. As a chef, boiling water is the most simple task. I put a boiler on in the morning and it is constantly replenished throughout the day. To think of a life without immediate water seems like it would be a struggle, but this post really opened my eyes to the true joys of putting in effort to reap the rewards. In our modern society we do so many things because it is merely convenient, but never think about the effort that has been put into our perfectly packaged identical foods.
This has really been an eye opener and I truly appreciate you taking the time to write this post.
xx Becky