PB and J

Monday mid-afternoon; 'nuff said. In my middle drawer is a jar of peanut butter. Well, it's no longer in my middle drawer, it's next to my keyboard with a spoon balanced on top. I heart peanut butter, not only because of its necessarily tasty-treat nature, but also because of its instrumental value...

It happened early on in my fieldwork. It was lunch-time and I sighed at my boring but budget-friendly lunch: squashed peanut butter sandwiches salvaged from my cavernous bag. I wasn't looking for sympathy but I got. The women around me understood. Everyday, staff and trainees were served peanut butter sandwiches from the trolley in the kitchen, and everyday, I arrived with a clingwrapped bundle. Our mutual dissatisfaction for lunch of this nature was the first sign that we might just be able to work together. It was the first clue that the women had that I wasn't, as Lulu put it, "some sturvy* white girl".

And so my tub of Yum-Yum (extra-crunchy) is just so much more than nut-flavoured nirvana. Although it does that pretty well as well....

* Pretentious, putting-on, the opposite of down to earth