Bored with Rice and Beans?

Following is a guest post from Jim Anderson, a Rice and Beans participant from Portland, Oregon.

Thoughts while walking: do children who eat only beans and rice become bored by that diet? Do they complain about not having more variety, meat once a day or more, dessert, eggs and toast, and no repeats of the same meal for a week at least, and snacks between meals? I'm guessing they don't complain, that they're satisfied and happy when that solid meal has taken away the hunger pangs for a while. In fact, they may not even know about the possibility of variety unless maybe sometime special like a wedding or funeral. But then, maybe those kids didn't get in on those special treats anyway.

In Botswana, I attended a San funeral, standing on the outskirts of the group in a compound where the deceased man had lived, merely observing until invited to sit in the inner circle (next to the chief, no less, on a up-turned 20-litre bucket). When it was time to eat the food cooking in blackened pots over an open fire, I accepted a steaming cup of milky tea and later, a bowl with strips of meat over samp and rice. I had eaten a little from that bowl when my friend, a Dutch missionary, suggested I needn't eat it all, and that he would give what was left to the children because "they won't feed the kids." In a moment, half a dozen very thin, very hungry children were diving into the remains of my lunch.

A San funeral in Ghanzi, Botswana.

Pots will provide funeral food.

I thought about all of that as I walked, about how easy it is to get bored with eating rice and beans, knowing the incredible variety available to me, supermarkets, hundreds of enticing restaurants, a farmers' market overflowing with variety, cupboards at home which require care lest food packages fall when opened, Ben and Jerry's in the freezer, Daves's Killer Bread as well--unlimited and taken-for-granted variety until you've agreed to limit yourself to only beans and rice.

I suppose quite a few will say, "My, how we are blessed!" just like they say we've got the finest health care in the world and the finest agricultural system and all of that finest stuff that leaves us proud of the plethora that confronts us all the time. But as I walked, I wondered if we're so blessed by that surfeit of possibility. Why then the "hunger" for more variety--"Which restaurant tonight--let's try a new one!"--the lack of satisfaction and serenity, the gnawing desire for more for ourselves?

Not far, that desire, from the puzzling actions of those rich folks who will spend millions to bribe government people to protect their bonuses. You'd think a hundred million would be enough so that they might say, "I'm satisfied!" Doesn't happen often, does it? But neither does it happen often enough that we are willing to forgo the lesser luxuries we've "earned" for ourselves.

By the way, the poor folks who eat rice and beans gladly don't have to exercise the "discipline of simplicity.." I was wondering as I walked whether that's a blessing or a curse for them, or is it we who are cursed when luxury that surrounds us makes us unhappy with the simplicity of rice and beans, and makes necessary exercising "discipline," that is, recognizing the sinfulness of excess? Might it be I who hears the "curse" of Jesus upon those who store up much and revel in their luxury, "You fool!"

Meanwhile, I smell the beans cooking in the kitchen, to become baked beans eventually. About ten more days until I can get at that Ben and Jerry's and all the other good stuff that hasn't been eaten since March 1. What will I have learned from a month of rice-and-beans? Remains to be seen what may be the on-going change, if any.