Summer is for Community: A Love Letter to Grills
Images by Blessy Rwabukera Heya!
I’ve been talking about doing this for a while so the fact that you’re reading this is so cool! For the past year and a bit, I have been writing personal essays about whatever has been on my mind, ranging from analysing the impact that different social constructs have had on me, to dissecting my love for Oscar Isaac (one of my best pieces of work to this day). I figured, since I spend so much time writing, why don’t I share some of it? Now I know what you’re thinking, “do we really need another opinion on the internet?” The answer is, yes, I know you are foaming at the mouth to hear what I have to say. That said, I’m hoping that my writing will read less like an opinion piece and more like an articulate yet filtered version of my journal, (filtered because the internet has consequences). However, in the worst case scenario where I do overshare, you can let me know where the red flags are – you get an entertaining read, I get free therapy, it’s a win-win situation.
Consider the ice broken, let’s get into the first piece: sunshine and grilled food makes me happy.
my sisters and I enjoying dad’s food - June 2021
I LOVE SUMMER!
Living in England, London specifically, the sun changes everything. The hearts of the people begin to defrost and suddenly, life isn’t so bad. I can hear laughter on the road instead of shouting, and bus drivers are met with banter instead of the hostile confrontation that naturally comes with -2°c weather. I love the hassle of choosing parks, assembling picnics and making pitchers. Being African (my fellow Zimbabwean babes stand up!), means that I thrive in the sunshine, but also being British means that I get to complain about the Tube being too warm, I truly get the best of both worlds.
The annual return of the sun is equivalent to the moment when you relax and it’s only then you realise that your shoulders were practically touching your ears – sweet relief. I can now laugh about the times I sat with a clenched jaw, trying to convince myself that the cold wasn’t “that bad”, when indeed it was, that bad. I live for the days where when I step out of the house, I can trade my flask of tea, scarf and umbrella, for a water bottle, fan and umbrella (this is England after all, so let’s not get carried away).
As I anticipate the hot days ahead, I can look forward to a good braai (pronounced ‘bry’, this is a term used in Zimbabwe and South Africa for what is also known as a BBQ). Though a picnic is a close second, a braai is the number one reason why to me, summer is the community season. The perfect braai will include good music, great food and even better company.
Gathering people to eat has to be the ultimate foundation for building community. Anyone who knows me well will know that if I want to spend time with you, we are either walking and talking for as long as possible, or I am inviting you over and we will eat together, I have my upbringing to thank for that. As I mentioned before, I am Zimbabwean, and in our culture, it is rare that you allow a guest to leave your home without serving them food. Growing up, if anyone visited our home, even for a “quick visit”, my mum would offer them a meal, and if there wasn’t food readily available, more would be prepared (shout out to my sisters for mastering the craft of whipping up rice and stew in under 30 minutes). I know this form of hospitality isn’t unique to Zimbabweans, there are so many cultures that have sharing a meal at the centre of communion, these are the same cultures that are likely to share the understanding that being asked “have you eaten?” isn’t just referring to your last meal, it also means “welcome home”, “I love you”, and on some days, “I’m sorry” (we can open that one up in future post).
I experienced the receiving end of this love too, I have had the privilege of growing up with friends who have parents who can cook incredible food. After hanging out with a friend at their home, on my way out I’d often hear the sweet words, “do you want to stay for dinner?”. Of course I do! It’s a precious thing, to be invited into someone else’s family dynamic and to enjoy the food that they have set aside for you.
That’s the extra special thing about a braai, it isn’t just one person providing for all, everyone is bringing something to be shared, and that goes beyond salads and lemonade. At a BBQ with friends, I am comforted by the experiences that we have in common, and thrilled by the stories that couldn’t be further from my reality. At a family braai, I have the pleasure of listening to the trials and triumphs of my older siblings, cousins, parents etc, things that would never cross my little twenty year old brain. I have experienced clear cultural differences between the two settings, for example, a British BBQ will somehow include an ABBA karaoke session, and a braai cannot end until everyone has set foot on the dance floor! Two joyous events with different forms of expression, but in both contexts, top tier conversation is a constant.
When you have a full belly, grateful heart and potentially inhaled too much smoke, the musings that arise can range from anywhere between deliberation and delirium. Babbling on about everything and nothing with the person you just met that afternoon who somehow feels like a long lost friend. It’s that feeling. Sat on the grass, looking around at the lovely people that you value, the people who make you feel loved, not wanting the day to end and knowing that it will be long before it does because now, the sun barely sets. This is why i love grilled food, because of everything that happens around it and what can come from it.
Having a community is such a beautiful gift and I look forward to growing mine over these summer months. If I don’t see you at your next braai/ BBQ (yes, this was my pitch to make it onto your guestlist, I’ll bring cinnamon rolls because we all deserve more than just an ice lolly for dessert), I’ll see you in my next blog post!
Take care!
