Monthly Archives: June 2023

 The Big Gardens

 The Big Gardens

By Geraldine De Goeas, California

The tall iron gates stood wide open in welcome. Nadine read the large overhead sign. The Botanical Gardens. She grinned. No one in Guyana called it that. It was ‘The Big Gardens,’ simply because it was big, and also to differentiate it from the Promenade Gardens, known as ‘The Small Gardens’.

Towering palm trees lined the main walkway. The sweet scent of Frangipani filled the air.

“Which way to the manatee pond, Brother?” Nadine asked.

“Stop calling me Brother.” Nadine’s older brother Julio wagged his finger at her. Then he said, “We’ll go see the flowers first, check out the band and…”

Nadine sucked her teeth. “I came to feed the manatees. I don’t want to see flowers or listen to any old band.”

“Too bad,” Julio retorted. “The manatees won’t come to eat until it’s cooler. I’ll buy you a shave-ice and…”

“So why bring me now?” Nadine interrupted, stamping her foot.

“Because Mummy told me to. But we can go home,” Julio threatened.

Nadine’s lips formed a tight line. I’m not going home, she thought. What I came for is right here. She thought back to the first time she saw the manatees. How she found them ‘So awesome.’ “God’s gentle giants,” her mummy had called them. Nadine pictured them moving, ever so slowly, in the water. No splashing or thrashing; making hardly a ripple on the water’s surface. She remembered their small round eyes that seemed to twinkle as they spotted the eager crowd, offering all that delicious grass. No, Nadine would not be going home. Now that her mother had finally declared her old enough, Nadine was here to feed a manatee, and nothing would stop her.

“I’ll have a pineapple shave-ice,” she muttered grudgingly.

The sweet pineapple juice poured over crushed ice did little to change Nadine’s disappointment. She lagged behind Julio, ignoring the circles of delicate roses, colorful zinnias, and bright yellow marigolds that surrounded her. She shuffled along the dirt path, angrily kicking up dust with the tip of her yachting shoes.

Suddenly, a black bee zipped past Nadine’s nose. Nadine’s head snapped back instantly, but her eyes followed the bee cautiously. She saw it circle, then zoom, into the dark center of a large golden sunflower. As she watched, Nadine’s eyes grew wide and round like matching silver dollars. “Awesome,” she whispered.

“You coming?” shouted Julio.

Nadine ran to her brother. “Oh, Brother!” she exclaimed. “I saw a bee with its head shoved deep into a flower sucking up nectar, just the way my teacher said,” she blurted out excitedly. “Awesome.”

“Hey, I’ll show you something really awesome,” was Julio’s reply. Leading Nadine away from the flower beds, across a metal footbridge that twanged loudly with every footstep, Julio guided her to the far end of the gently running stream they had just crossed.

Huge round leaves, like giant plates, lay on the water’s surface. Pure white flowers, big as water-coconuts, with pointed oval petals, sat between the leaves, gleaming like jewels in the brilliant sunshine. Nadine gasped. Her mouth formed a perfect “O.”

“Victoria lilies,” Julio explained. “Guyana’s special flower. Named after a queen.”

“Oh, Brother, this is double awesome. God sure makes beautiful things.”

And as if in agreement, music filled the air. Recognizing a folksong she knew, Nadine sang aloud, “There’s a brown girl in the ring…”

Julio grabbed his sister’s hand. “Let’s go!” he yelled. And with the wind whistling in their ears, they ran toward the music. Soon, the bright red dome of the bandstand loomed before them. Groups of people dotted the surrounding grassy area; some singing like Nadine to the tune the bandsmen, in their crisp navy uniforms and shiny silver buttons were playing, “She likes sugar, and I like plums.”

Julio threw himself on the lawn and pulled Nadine down with him.

Soon, Nadine’s shoulders were rocking and her body swaying as she sang along with the spectators. “This is fun, Brother. Will you bring me again?”

“Only if you stop calling me Brother.”

Nadine’s forehead wrinkled into a frown. She loved Julio. He was her brother. Why shouldn’t she say so? She’d be happy if he called her Sister.

“Now to the manatee pond.”

Delighted at Julio’s words, Nadine immediately forgot her brother’s threat and sprang up to follow him.

Noisy children, protective parents, and many teenagers stood or sat by the water’s edge. Brother and sister searched for clumps of clean, young grass, then squatted by the water and waited.

The late afternoon sun peeking between the over-hanging Poinciana trees made dancing shadows on the still water.

“Here they come,” someone whispered. Nadine’s eyes lit up. Her heart pounded with excitement. The crown of a manatee’s wrinkled head appeared inches above the water. Then another, and another. As the mammals moved closer, people waved their fists of clutched grass hoping to attract a manatee’s attention.

“The grass, Daddy, hurry!”

At Nadine’s right, a boy about her age sat, both legs in braces, leaning sideways straining to find his father.

In seconds, a manatee’s head popped up out of the water, close to Nadine and the boy. It’s thick round lips opened wide; the two halves of it’s upper lip jiggled as if signaling to be fed.

“Daddy, Daddy.”

Nadine saw the boy’s lips tremble. She saw tears flood his eyes. She knew that feeling. She remembered her anger and her tears whenever her mommy had said, “Not until you’re older.”

Nadine eyed the manatee’s jiggling lips. So close. Quickly she extended her arm and offered her fist-full of grass. “Here take this,” she said to the boy.

“But Nadine…” Julio began.

“It’s okay,” Nadine said. “You’ll bring me another day, right Brother?”

Julio’s eyes misted up. He hugged his sister and nodded, “I promise.”

By Geraldine De Goeas, California. She adds: “I was born and educated in what was then British Guyana. These botanical gardens were my playground of choice growing up.”

Army Recruiting in Schools Needs to Stop

Army Recruiting in Schools Needs to Stop

By Avah Keyhani, grade 8, California.

In 2016, more than 60 percent of military enlistments came from neighborhoods with a median household income between $38,345 and $80,912.[1] That means that there are more lower income families in the military, most likely because those families saw the military as a chance to help their economic standing. The truth is, if there was another way to lift families out of poverty, then the military’s recruitment rates would go down, and no one would be joining the military to get money for college or grad school. As it is, that’s exactly what they’re doing. They are using young people in lower income families and giving them a choice: join us and become a hero or live in poverty. Of course, the military kind of beats around the bush when it comes to murdering others and very possibly dying yourself. When you’re younger, you’re more impulsive and more easily persuaded, so the military preys on younger minds. That’s why military recruiters need to get out of schools and stop going after lower income families.

If a young person isn’t joining the military of their own free will, they shouldn’t be joining at all. The military doesn’t want college to be free because their recruitment relies on poorer people enlisting in exchange for funds for college. Many choose to be part of the military because of the promise of college ahead. Take that away, and their recruitment rates will drop (which is good). Common Dreams quotes a GOP lawmaker who Tweeted, “By forgiving such a wide swath of loans for borrowers, you are removing any leverage the Department of Defense maintained as one of the fastest and easiest ways of paying for higher education.” Does the lawmaker not realize he’s literally admitting that college degrees and crushing debt are being used as leverage? And that he’s saying that the military relies on young, poor people and threatens them with poverty? Commenting on this republican lawmaker, Our Wisconsin Revolution argued on Twitter, “The GOP is admitting that the military relies on poor young people to keep the war machine going, and that’s why they oppose canceling student debt…The price of a college degree should not be bloodshed or a lifetime of crippling debt.”

If someone wants to join the military because they enjoy dropping bombs on people, fine. But most people join to pay for a degree, or because of some advertisement. That’s wrong. People shouldn’t have to kill others to get a college degree. Nor should they have to live with debt. War has a terrible effect on the human mind and young people shouldn’t have to deal with that just to go to college or grad school.

The military targets lower income families. According to NNOMY “…Schools with a high proportion of low-income students serve as a magnet for the military. Take the example of two similarly sized high schools in two Hartford suburbs: Avon and Bloomfield. Army recruiters visited Avon High, where only 5 percent of students qualify for free or reduced-price lunch, four times during the 2011-12 school year. Yet at Bloomfield High, where nearly half the students qualify for such assistance, recruiters made more than 10 times as many visits.” That means that they spent more than forty days at Bloomfield high (that’s more than once a week!) and four days at Avon. They spent so much more time at the school where half of the kids needed help paying for their lunch, and barely any time at the school where five percent needed help. That’s blatantly obvious and disgusting. The military is exploiting people that come from lower income families because people who come from lower income families will have a harder time paying for college.

Kids shouldn’t be subjected to the kind of violence the military engages in, especially those who are under twenty-five and whose prefrontal cortexes are not fully developed. According to Heathline, “While many people have endured the hell of war and escaped unscathed, young people who experienced personal trauma before service are the most likely to develop lasting mental health issues after serving in combat.” Well, what kids are more likely to have experienced trauma? Poor kids, which is exactly the group the military is going after. Also, can you ‘endure the hell of war and escape unscathed?’ Can you watch people die, maybe some of your friends and others by your own hand, and go back to life like nothing happened? I don’t believe so, especially if your brain hasn’t fully developed.

According to inequality.org, “Research reveals numerous physical and mental health risks from joining the military at a young age—including higher rates of substance abuse, depression, PTSD, and suicide.” This is common knowledge, knowledge that the military surely has, so why are they continuing to recruit kids even though they know what may happen to them further down the line? It seems like the military purposely feeds on younger soldiers who don’t quite have the mental capacity yet to think ‘wait, why am I doing this?’ If this country really cared about the next generation, they would be helping the kids make a life for themselves rather than recruiting them into the military and exposing them to violence.

The military isn’t something you should be joining to get a degree. The right to education should be assured, not something that lower-income families will either have to go into debt for or be willing to kill people for. And with younger people, who agree to join the military on the promise of paid-for college, it severely attacks their mental and physical health. If the government cares more about being the biggest bully in the playground than caring about their own young people’s mental health, they have no business being the government.

Avah Keyhani, grade 8, California. She writes: “…I am a bilingual Iranian American who speaks Farsi and English. The most important things in my life are my family, friends, my books, and standing up for myself and my ideas. I would very much like to become a scientist and I have an interest in epidemiology. I was inspired to write my essay after reading about the amount of people who join the military at a young age and are scarred for life.”

 

[1]https://www.brookings.edu

Six Things I Learned from Shadowing in A Hospital

Six Things I Learned from Shadowing in a Hospital

The Perspective of a 16-Year-Old

The genesis of my interest in science began when I was around six years old when I would listen to my neurosurgeon mother dictate notes after performing her cases. As soon as she finished, I would ask her to explain the terminology and methods she used to execute the surgeries. At that age I didn’t truly understand what she would tell me, but as the years went on, I learned more about medical-related terms and became more curious about the scientific concepts around me that I had not previously considered. For instance, whenever I was on the train and saw an advertisement for vitamins or hair loss, I would look online to explore these topics more to understand their medical underpinnings.

This curiosity didn’t extend solely to advertisements on the subway; when we were taught a concept in science class, I would investigate it further at home, whether it was Newton’s Laws or the digestive system of a sea cucumber. Outside of school, I started reading books on neuroscience, marine biology, and anatomy when I was around 12 years old.

Beyond my personal research, I have explored and shared my interests by becoming a co-founder and co-head of my school’s Medical Club, an ambassador for YWIB (Young Women in Bio), and an ambassador for Cancer Pathways. To further pursue (and ideally cement) my desire to be a doctor, I spent this past summer traveling to Costa Rica and Ecuador for medical missions. I volunteered in mobile clinics, learned about these countries’ healthcare systems, and analyzed how their systems impact the population.

Prior to going on these missions, TV shows and movies made up my perception of the experience of working in a hospital. However, after I came home from these overseas trips, I spent a week volunteering at my local hospital, and I quickly realized that these preconceived notions were mostly false. In this piece below, I point out six things I noticed while working at the hospital to show the reality of this environment. Additionally, as a teenager and a first-time hospital volunteer, I had a new perspective when writing this article.

—Pearl Marks.


I have always wanted to be a doctor. As long as I can remember, I’ve been fascinated by the ways the different systems and parts of the human body function together, and by the way a team of doctors can help people heal when things go wrong.

This past summer, I finally had the chance to spend a week volunteering at a hospital and shadowing a surgeon. As a high school junior, I realize that I still have a lot of study ahead of me before I can even apply to med-school, but visiting the hospital left me all the more excited by all there is to learn. What follows are the observations I made during my time at the hospital.

1. You’re always moving.

At the start of the first day, the surgeon and I walked into the office only to drop off our bags and leave immediately to visit patients in the nearby exam room. I soon realized that the buffer between patient exams was used for appointments that ran long; when we finished each meeting, we immediately moved to the next exam room or the surgeon’s office to see another patient. By 2:30pm, we still hadn’t eaten lunch, and had time only to take quick bites of our sandwiches as we moved from room to room. Even during days reserved for surgical procedures, you’re still on your feet from the moment you arrive in the operating room.

2. The hospital is a maze.

Getting to the hospital is straightforward, but as soon as you need to move between departments, you face a bewildering layout of buildings connected by above ground bridges. Even within a speciality, for example, travel between a physician’s office, examination rooms, and patient recovery center can require several minutes of fast walking. After operations, it took us at least 5 minutes to get to the operating rooms or to the level where patients stay after their surgeries. As the week went on, I realized how the connections between the hospital’s spaces reflect not only the way different specialties work together, but also the complexity of the healthcare system as a whole.

3. Scheduling is an art form.

On several afternoons, I worked in the back office and was able to help with scheduling and insurance documentation. Given the complexity of the intake process, I was surprised by how many patients didn’t even show up for their appointments. Even more surprising, however, was that missed appointments didn’t make the day any less busy for the doctor. Patient exams often run long so that the doctor can properly analyze test results or answer questions. The office support team needs to determine how many patients to schedule each day so that the doctor won’t be overwhelmed, given that some of them will cancel.

4. Surgery involves the entire hospital.

TV shows don’t come close to showing the activity of the operating room. Even before the medical team arrives, the room feels packed with the complex machinery and supplies that operations require. The first person to arrive is the scrub nurse, who sets up the surgical instruments and prepares to assist the surgeon. Next arrives the charge nurse, who manages the entire environment of the operating room. The anesthesiologist administers anesthesia and any other drugs required throughout the operation, and, for the surgeries I attended, an additional neuromonitoring technician was present to analyze the electrical activity of the brain. In some cases, more than one attending surgeon is present and they work in parallel.

5. Operations follow a strict procedure.

Every operating room displays a detailed wall placard listing key operation goals and safety precautions. Before every surgery, everyone present is required to review the listed sequence. During a surgical procedure, there are specific responses to different complications that might arise, so that all the doctors present know how they’ll work together no matter what situation they find themselves in. Even before the staff members enter the room, they have to scrub their hands for at least five minutes, and to rinse and dry them according to protocol; they even put on their surgical gowns and double-glove their hands in a specific order. In addition to protecting the patient at all stages of the operation, these strict sequences allow the physician to focus on the most critical decisions during the operation.

6. Patience is everything.

Even with strict procedures in place, the surgeon’s entire schedule of the day is in flux. Whether it comes to rephrasing simple questions, repeating explanations, or even guiding a patient slowly down the hall, patience is the key to all a doctor does. One day, during a surgery that required two surgeons, one doctor ran late from a previous operation, and I noticed that even if a few members on the team were annoyed by the delay, they maintained their focus and calm, and they completely shielded their patient from any feeling of delay or frustration. Proper care takes time.

* * *

My experience volunteering showed me that the work of a surgeon is far more complex than I had expected. Instead of deterring me, however, seeing the process made me all the more inspired to one day become a doctor myself. By working in the actual hospital environment, I not only learned about the great variety of roles, but also about the complex and gratifying experience of collaboration that plays out between the different specialties.

If you have any interest in medicine, I encourage you to do anything you can to find a volunteer opportunity at a hospital. Even if it’s a bit overwhelming, visiting the hospital will inspire you in your work today and help you imagine your own life in medicine in the future.  

—Pearl Marks has recently turned 17. She lives in New York.

The crisis in Afghanistan

The crisis in Afghanistan

By Amritha Purohit, age 15, New York.

The crisis in Afghanistan was something I had always known about, lingering in the back of my mind or through news stories floating through the halls of my already noisy house. It was just another emergency in the world, something that needed to be taken care of, but perhaps not by me. I’m a highschooler living in New York. Most of what was happening on the other side of the planet didn’t seem to have that much to do with me. Earlier this year, Sunita Viswanathintroduced me to ABAAD, the Afghan Women Forward. She is my parents’ close friend, and has known me since I was little. She spoke about it to me in passing, not as something she was hoping to involve me in, but to let me know what was happening in her life. I pressed, and soon found myself interning there. I had always thought that trying to make a real difference halfway across the world from would be almost impossible, but I was wrong. A few weeks ago I had the privilege of participating in a video call with children from Afghanistan whose lives have been impacted by the Taliban takeover. Here are a few of their stories:

In August 2021, the Taliban issued an order preventing girls from attending secondary school, citing pretexts ranging from wanting to review the uniform to curriculum issues. This meant an immediate stop for many young girls seeking an education past sixth grade. Krishma is an 11-year-old girl who would have been in the 7th grade had she not been prevented from attending school. She was forced to stop going to school last year. Everyday, when her second-grade brother comes home, he shares what he learned that day. They often work together to learn to spell tricky words in the hopes that Krishma can continue her education. She wants to become a doctor and a teacher when she grows up, but in her current circumstances, it would be impossible for her to even complete high school. Her message to the world is to educate yourself and to always help others.

Hasinat, age 10, is another Afghan girl who can no longer go to school, but for a different reason. She cannot go to school because of her family’s financial situation. Her parents could no longer afford to pay rent on their house, and were forced to move to another province without a school. Now, the only way for Hasinat to continue her education is by moving back to the old province, and that is financially infeasible for her family. 

Aside from education, Hasinat’s life has been devastated in other ways due to her family’s extreme poverty. She hasn’t had her favorite food, Chablis Kabob, in over two years because her family cannot afford the ingredients. Her mother is sick, and the family cannot afford to buy medicine. Hasinat helps around the house to ease her burden. She hopes to become a Quran teacher when she grows up, and share her love of the Quran with the world.  

Sadaf is a 10-year-old girl in the fourth grade. She has a large family—ten members in all—and when she is bored she often makes pillow forts with her younger sisters. She has dreams of being a doctor. Sadaf is one of many Afghan children facing extreme poverty right now. Her diet mainly consists of tea, bread, carrots and shola,a kind of cheap rice. Her mother is very sick, and her family doesn’t have enough money to take her to the hospital. They can’t afford medicine, and many people in her family are chronically ill. No one in her family has a salaried job, and her mother often worries she will not have enough money to feed her kids. Like Hasinat, Sadaf hasn’t been able to eat her favorite food, a kabob, in almost three years. 

Samir and his sister, Marwa, both don’t have national ID cards. This means that they cannot do a lot of things they would normally be able to, like going to school. Marwa is not yet in sixth grade. Only men can get ID cards, and so their mother cannot help them. They also can’t afford to buy supplies needed to attend school. They also don’t have any kind of toys, so Samir and Marwa often race their siblings for fun. Marwa loves shawarma, but ate it for the last time four years ago. 

Farhad is 11-years-old and in fourth grade. He, like Samir and Marwa, does not have any toys, so he too races his 7-year-old brother for fun. He wants to become a teacher when he grows up, despite extreme poverty and lack of resources. 

Aryan is 12, and is in the third grade. Like many others, his family faces extreme poverty. Most of his meals mirror Sadaf’s and consist of shola, and when they cannot even buy that, they turn to bread and tea. The Taliban have decreed that if a student does not have books for the school, they can’t be in school. Aryan’s family cannot pay for books, and has been forced to stop his education. He also has mobility issues, and is always fidgeting. To fill up his time that he’d be in school, Aryan uses a slingshot to aim at bottles. His greatest wish is to own a car and a bicycle, and to be able to go places.

The situation in Afghanistan has become worse. As the rest of the world turns their back on these children, it’s important that we don’t as well. With donations, ABAAD plans to help children get access to education, to get proper medicine, to have a chance to eat their favorite foods for the first time in years. With a donation to Aabad your family will not only be helping Afghan children and families with basic needs, but also showing that change is possible, even in the midst of a crisis.

By Amritha Purohit, age 15, New York.

My Life Experiences

My Life Experiences: In and Out of Afghanistan

By Fatimah Habibi, age 18, Connecticut.

To observe and experience so many terrible things at such a young age had a lasting effect on me. When my brother was kidnapped, I was just seven years old. I may not have known as much at the time because I was so young, but when I saw my family, I knew something wasn’t right. Everyone at home cried for a week, and it appeared as though someone had passed away. He was discovered by the police after the week was over, and they took him to the station. As he saw our family when he got home, he started crying. My parents were crying as well. It “felt like I had been gone forever,” he said. After that, life became more difficult for everyone in my family; we were unable to attend school for almost six months and no longer could leave the house. As long as we stayed in Afghanistan, there was no easy moment. For the protection of my brothers and ourselves, we were forced to make the decision to leave our homeland. Every time I watched my brother or other children playing in the park or outside, I wanted to join them and have fun just like they did. I was happy to hear of my family’s decision since I had always thought that once we left Afghanistan, I would be allowed to play freely in the park like they did without anyone objecting.

I was around age nine when we moved to India, and it was quite traumatic and terrible to leave my entire family behind. It was a good feeling of freedom, but I also faced a lot of challenges like at first, it was very hard for me to learn their language, culture, food, and the most important and shocking thing was their religion (Hinduism).

It was my first time to see a lot of people of different colors and different beliefs. This was something totally new for me. However, on the other hand, I felt as though I had started a new life. I could do whatever I wanted without anyone bothering me. I attended school there fearlessly and learned a lot, including Hindi, English, and a ton of other things. There, I knew what exactly life is and how it felt to be a free woman.

I made a lot of friends, and had a normal childhood. I was really satisfied in India, and I lived there for almost three years. However, after spending three years in India we went back to my country to see my uncles, aunts, and grandfather. We stayed about a month in Afghanistan, and when we tried to go back to India, sadly, my Grandfather passed away. We were unable to go back, so we stayed in Afghanistan. There were no easy moments as we stayed in Afghanistan again, especially for me. I was used to wearing whatever I wanted and going outside whenever I wanted; but in Afghanistan, I couldn’t do any of that which was very hard for me. Going to school with fear and then returning home and spending the entire day at home is not simple.

For our freedom and education, we had to leave Afghanistan once again. We traveled to Turkey and stayed there for a year. I was very tired of being forced to move from one country to another and didn’t want to do it again until we came to the United States.

I experienced a lot of difficulties. People treated us differently because we were strangers, which obviously had a big impact on our mental health. I don’t know why, but as I went outside, the people looked weird. But after a year, I began to get used to it. We lived in Turkey for two years before coming to America. At first, I had the impression that because we were immigrants, everyone would treat us differently, the school and people would be like in Turkey. After a few months, I started going to school and there were really nice, respectable people there. I have come to the conclusion that everyone is the same, regardless of their origin or belief. Everyone follows the same process. In the years that followed, I finally understood how to live and now I feel very free.

The United States offered me and my family a chance at a brighter future. We were able to take advantage of the many opportunities available to us, from education to employment. I was able to pursue my studies at a good high school with plans to attend college and study what I want. My journey from Afghanistan to the United States was not only a physical one, but also a mental and emotional one. I had to learn how to cope with the new culture, language, and people I encountered in my new home. I also had to learn how to adjust to the freedom and independence that I was granted—the freedom and independence that I did not have in my country.

My experience as an immigrant in the United States has been an enlightening one. I have been able to gain an appreciation for a culture different from my own and to gain an understanding of the difficulties that come with the process of acclimating to a new environment. I have also been able to gain a greater sense of appreciation for the many freedoms and opportunities available to me here. I may have left my homeland behind, but I will never forget the strength and courage it took to make such a big move. I will always carry with me the lessons I learned, and the experiences I had during my journey from Afghanistan to the United States. Finally, I have arrived at the place I had planned for myself. I am able to live independently and attend school. I have the opportunity to pursue my dreams in the U.S. and make them come true. I’m a senior in high school now, and intend to go to university to pursue a career that I hope to have and love in the future.

By Fatimah Habibi, age 18, h.s. senior, Connecticut.

Fatimah adds: “I was born and raised in Afghanistan. My cultural background is Afghan and I was raised in a household that placed a strong emphasis on our cultural traditions and customs. One of the traditions that is most important to me is the celebration of Eid al-Fitr, which marks the end of Ramadan. During this holiday, my family and I gather together to pray, give gifts, and share meals. It is a time for us to feel connected to our culture and to pass on our traditions to future generations.

I was also taught about the history and values of my culture, which has had a big impact on my worldview and how I approach life. For instance, the importance of family and community is something that is very important to me and something that I try to incorporate into my daily actions. My cultural background and traditions have played a significant role in shaping who I am and have given me a sense of belonging and connection to my heritage.

The most popular and my favorite dish in my country is called Qabili palau. This is how we make it.

Ingredients:

  • 2 cups of basmati rice
  • 4 tablespoons vegetable oil
  • 1 medium onion, finely chopped
  • 1 pound lamb or beef, cut into small pieces
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
  • 1/2 teaspoon garam masala
  • 1/2 cup raisins
  • 1/2 cup slivered almonds
  • 1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley

Recipe:

  1. Rinse the rice in a fine mesh sieve until the water runs clear.
  2. In a large pot, heat the oil over medium heat. Add chopped onion and cook until it is soft and translucent, about 5 minutes.
  3. Add the lamb or beef to the pot and cook until it is brown on all sides, about 10 minutes.
  4. Add the salt, pepper, turmeric, cumin, coriander, and garam masala to the pot and stir to coat the meat evenly.
  5. Add 3 cups of water to the pot and bring to a boil.
  6. Add the washed rice to the pot, stirring to combine. Reduce the heat to low, cover the pot, and simmer for 20 minutes, or until the rice is tender and the water has been absorbed.
  7. Stir in the raisins, almonds, and parsley. Cover the pot and cook for an additional 5 minutes.
  8. Remove the pot from the heat and let it sit, covered, for 10 minutes. Fluff the rice with a fork and serve. Enjoy!

Editor’s Note: If you are a vegetarian, like many people are in India, you can choose to skip the meat—lamb or beef, etc. The rice pilaf dish will still be very tasty.