Potato Peeling

It is hard to say how many times my potato peeling skills have embarrassed me. I would venture to say 21 times in the last 21 months of my life. Peace Corps should have really told me to ditch my potato peeler and start practicing peeling potatoes with a knife before coming to Ecuador. Without a doubt potato peeling is a key skill for integrating among Ecuadorian women.

Whenever I am amongst a group of women cooking it is guaranteed that I will be asked two questions. Number one: “Maggie, why don’t you have a baby?” Number two: “Maggie, why can’t you peel potatoes?”

On Sunday, our friends the Ashquis, built the roof for their new rafting office and we pitched in along with 20 others. Whenever there is a big event like this the women spend all morning cooking a big lunch while the men do the physical labor.

We arrived at 7 a.m. Gregg was handed a shovel to start missing and shoveling cement and I was given a knife. Katie, the Ashquis 12-year-old mentally handicapped cousin, guided me to a giant tub filled with 150 pounds of potatoes. Katie watched me as I started to peel my first potato and politely asked me, “Maggie, why can’t you peel potatoes?” I quickly realized that Katie is quite a talented potato peeler. She tried to teach me too, but realized I was helpless.

Three other women arrived and gathered around the massive potato bin. The conversation quickly turned to potato peeling skills as I noted how Maria, the Ashquis’ mom, peeled 8 potatoes to every one I peeled. I tried to explain my poor peeling skills and blame them on using a potato peeler, but nobody seemed to understand, because they’ve never seen a peeler.

It really was incredible to see these other women peel potatoes. They have mastered the art of turn and peel in order to make the potato peel come off in one beautiful spiral. Undoubtedly, Maria was the best potato peeler and the other women even commented on her incredible skill and technique. She told us she participated in peeling competitions when she was young. True story.

After the women realized there was no hope for me and I was peeling off half the potato with the skin, I was given another task: cutting the bad spots out of the potatoes. After three hours, 150 pounds of potatoes had been washed, peeled and cooked.

All the roof-building workers were thanked with a big roasted pig and plates full of potatoes.