Uncivilized Americans and Tangerine Hands

Yesterday, in an exhausted, I’ve literally been been sick since April stupor, I reached for a fresh, juicy, delicious and nutritious orange. Man was I surprised.

It is orange season here in Mozambique, and I just happen to live in an area that you might call a citrus fruit haven, where people sell buckets full of oranges and tangerines for less than a dollar. Fabulous.

First I peeled my juicy, delicious, vitamin c filled treat the Mozambican way. This involves using a knife to cut the peel in what I can only describe as a circular perhaps curlicue. You cut around the orange, in circles until the layer of orange/green peel is gone, leaving the white stuff there encasing the meat of the fruit. Then you either cut the orange in half, and suck out the goodies (which I cant do without completely drenching myself in orange juice and pulpiness), or use the knife to gently peel away the white casing, and eat the orange in pieces as any normal American would (my usual method of choice).

I once told people that in America we just use our hands to peel the orange, and then eat it as is. They responded by calling us uncivilized.

But I guess there is the nasty business of the white gunk, juice, and smell left on your hands by the apparently uncivilized, American styled orange manhandling.

And oh how Mozambicans hate the smell of orange peel. Even worse, tangerine.

I personally prefer the tangerines, simply because the peel comes off easily, no knife necessary. Yes, in this case it is actually socially acceptable to peel the fruit using your hands. However, there is widespread panic in terms of the tangerine smell. Perhaps it's a cleanliness issue, I am not really sure. But I have seen numerous Mozambicans use a plastic bag styled as a glove to peel the tangerine.

Little do they realize, in America, we clean everything with citrus scent. Oh how their senses would be offended.

But anyway, I peeled my “orange” and broke it into pieces, ready to devour in juicy wonderfulness.

The first wedge – ‘wow this is sour, strange. But I can’t waste a perfectly good orange.’
Third wedge – ‘ok, not sure I can make it. Not even half way through and my face is so puckered I am afraid grandma’s adage might actually come true and it may just stick that way.’
Half way through – ‘shit, this is a lemon.’

So going along with the citrus fruit haven-ness, apparently we also grow lemons/limes (I never know which is which here because they are usually green no matter what, and there is only one word in Portuguese for both – limão) the size of oranges. Or bigger. And today, I managed to eat half of one before realizing my awfully bitter mistake.

Don't worry, the other half didn't go to waste. I used it later to dress my salad.