Monday, July 25, 2011
Of rice and men
I read somewhere a while ago that sumo wrestlers attain their substantil size by eating massive amounts of rice. They eat other things, of course, but the starch of countless plates full of white rice comprises a large portion of their diet. And every lunch and dinner, without fail, I find myself thinking of this little fact as I look at the steaming mountain of rice on my plate. I've always loved rice, and I continue to, despite the fact that I've been eating it twice a day every day for nearly a month already; but I still can't help but think of giant rolls of human flesh jiggling and quivering through the heavy-footed dance of sumo wrestling as I tackle my own personal Mt. Everest of rice. The problem with this is that I do in fact like rice so much. Because you see, there's always just a little more rice than I would normally eat in our serving dish (Erika doesn't eat the rice anymore, so I'm alone of this one), so it's just enough to be too much and yet just little enough that the leftovers I would leave look simply ridiculous huddled in the corner of the bowl....meaning that I usually just end up eating it all anyway, sometimes plain, particularly enjoying it when the cook has put a bit of salt in it. And I even discovered the possibility of dessert rice - sprinkle on a little sugar, and it's great! You see what I mean??!! I guess what I'm trying to say is this...if I were staying here in Bangladesh much longer than I am, I wouldn't be surprised if I soon became a fantastic sumo wrestler, and that's the truth.