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Writer's pictureKerilee Nickles

Newspaper Column: The Perils of Grocery Shopping

Updated: Jul 6, 2020

I used to love grocery shopping as a kid. My mom would send me off on a journey through the aisles to find various things on her list. It was like an exciting adventure in Oregon Dairy. I was mesmerized by the glass section of the fake chickens. I even got to take a look at the Amish romantic fiction section. (what scandal!) And with the energy of a ten-year old, it was a breeze! Ah, the time of innocence before you realized the amount of energy grocery shopping actually takes from you. And in some ways, it steals your soul. Too extreme?


I find it really difficult to figure out how much my husband and I will need for a week. I never know proper amounts. I’m like the worst picnic guest. You will receive two cheese slices and maybe a few grapes. Why did I think that would be enough? Peril number one.


As a general rule, I go grocery shopping at least once a week. I have always done so ever since I left the house, and now I must definitely do so because of the poor power issues here in Lilongwe. Peril number two. You see where this is going. The electricity just pops off whenever it pleases. We are told that things are stuck in the hydroelectric dam. We get sent messages that say things like ‘it will be out for an indefinite period.’ So, it’s tough to buy in bulk (not that I’d even know how) because you don’t want a whole ton of things to spoil in the freezer because the electricity was out for so long.


Here’s how it all goes in Lilongwe. I make a rudimentary list, and I enter the store with hope, crossing my fingers that they’ll have yogurt this time. There are stores here in Malawi, by the way. Real grocery stores. I begin to search the aisles. Things come up that I didn’t realize I needed. A pack of clean, white notebooks? Yes, yes! A toy for the cat? Hooray! A beautiful lone container of feta that they haven’t had in stock for weeks on end? At last! This is the fun part.


Then, to the meat section, and that’s where it gets tricky. You actually have to check the dates. Come on! It’s hard enough that I need to go to the store and drag myself around with a cart that is constantly swerving to the left and I eventually must drag behind me with one hand. I have to check dates too? James and I have had too many experiences of bringing home great meats with smiles on our faces only to put them in the fridge and then 10 minutes later, the electricity has turned off, and we get a great whiff of the horrible smell that emanates from them.


What a waste. So, in Malawi, check those dates, baby. Because we found out, the fridge and freezer in the stores aren’t really that cold. Therein lies a shopper’s second job. If you’re in the freezer section, not only do you have to check the dates, but you have to press on the meat to see if it’s actually frozen. The grocery task list is seemingly endless! James and I had to transition to being vegetarian for a week because it was just too much trouble. But, then the cans of beans were dented as well…Botulism?


I told James that in Home Ec. Class, dented cans equals botulism. He laughed at me and said that it means that someone probably dropped them. And in this tiny corner of the world where no one cares about us or knows where we are, we will definitely get the bottom of the barrel in terms of quality can structures. Or quality anything.


So, meats are done, time for milks. Again, due to the power issues, we have to get UHT milk which means it can last forever if unopened. But, then you have to read the fine print! Once opened, use within 7 days or 5 days! Double check. Within the dairy section, I head to the butters and yogurts. Another nice perk of Malawi is that we don’t always get everything all the time. For example, I could buy loads of plain yogurt one week, and then for the next month, there is no yogurt anywhere in any of the three to four grocery stores in Lilongwe. So, you just have to wait. Good lesson in patience.


Let’s say there is yogurt. Great, grab it. But check that the seal hasn’t been broken! Who knows what’s in it if it is? And actually, why would the seal be broken? And why is the can dented so perfectly right in the middle, I might add?


I think it’s all just a little bit hard for me because I am a privileged American. We are used to safety and security. In America, we know how to pull off a seal. There are loads of them. From our vitamins to our shampoos to our new toothpastes, there is this thin metallic seal for which we have to use our nails and pinch our fingers together painfully to remove. But, here in Malawi, ain’t no seal. On nothin’. And many of the bottles and tubes have surprisingly less contents than normal. What is going on here? And who stole the first 1/8 of this shampoo bottle? The shipping process between whatever country we’re getting it from to Malawi is becoming surprisingly lax. And weirdly so. Who is in the back of these stores dropping everything and opening seals? Job creation?


And when an item isn’t sealed, who knows what could be inside? My mind floods with ideas as you’d expect. There might be blood, spit, AIDS, Coronavirus, or any number of other fluids or objects. I found a piece of long thin plastic in my peanut butter the other day.


So, at my first sign of no seal, I freaked out. At home you get a big warning about using a product if it has no seal. Last time I went to the store, I checked through each of the spreadable butter containers to find out that all the seals are broken. So it’s not an accident. Where could they be? Somewhere tons of thin circular seals are lying in a wasted pile unable to fulfill their true purpose. They probably are lying the in the back with the can-denter sitting on top of them, smiling gleefully as he holds his 1/8 of stolen shampoo and spreads fears of botulism around the city.


But, eventually, what I increasingly love about this country and this part of the world is that you have to kind of shrug your shoulders sometimes and go with it. My initial freak out has now faded. Like the time I saw a large rat scurry across the floor by the meat section. I turned to the security guard and we both started laughing. Maybe we’re crazy, but we’re relaxed. Despite the perils of the grocery store for me, I realized we are all in this fight together. Besides, if the butters do contain a disease, and we’re all buying them, then we’ll all die together. You, me, and our friendly neighborhood can-denter.

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