The view from my kitchen window

Outside of my kitchen window is another world. There are women making food together, speaking twi. These women can pick up hot coals with their bare fingers. They cook and clean using as little water as possible. I admire them as I listen to water running into my metal sink. These women wield the mighty fufu stick – I look at my paltry metal stirring spoon and wonder why it is that I grew up cooking on a stove and they over hot coals. Why do I get to use running water and gas burners? (I can actually give you 750 reasons – but that is not the point) When I look at these women – I feel weak and almost ashamed by the ease that my world offers. I know that I while I can learn to make fufu and ground nut soup, I can never truly be a part of their world because of the eight panes of glass between me and them.