It took coming on an 11-month adventure around the world for me to discover what my vices are…or were I guess I should say.
I have always known that I love to cook, and baking is my all-time favorite. When I wanted to relax back at home, I would seem to constantly find myself going to the kitchen for comfort. This sounds like the problem of someone who is morbidly obese or something, but in reality, I’m only about 130lbs and the act of cooking itself was typically enough for me. The eating what I made part was just a bonus. Something about trying a new recipe, or digging my hands down into some dough was the ultimate stress relief. Nothing can beat the feeling of grating fresh cheese for a fabulous lasagna or finally icing the “masterpiece” of a cake that took me hours to create.
I figured that I would love helping my contacts make our meals during the race. I thought my special little stress relief would be easily accessible around the world. Boy was I wrong. My contacts thus far have more than welcomed me to help them cook….but cooking in Central America or Africa, or even Eastern Europe is NOT the same as cooking in my own little kitchen back home. Not even close. I quickly realized that cooking/baking were only my vices under my circumstances. It was only comforting when I had all the American ingredients I could imagine at my disposal, working appliances, and most importantly- no one around to bother me. Cooking on a wood-burning stove with what seems like hundreds of hungry people around talking, with ingredients I can’t even read is more stressful than relaxing to say the least. The closest we came to that home feeling was in Romania, when we actually had an oven. We made some delicious meals that month, but in the end, it just wasn’t the same. All this to say, if I had an opportunity to go home right now and bake, I still wouldn’t take it.
The race has its ups and downs. It has its challenges, but it is so worth it. There is no place I would rather be than right here. I miss my stove and oven and don’t even get me started on the fully stocked refrigerator, but I wouldn’t give up this adventure for anything. My kitchen will be waiting for me when I get home, and I imagine my first week back will be spent mostly there and in my bed, but I am here now, not there. And here is where I need to be.
