Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Buttermilk Pancakes....Like Gold!

 My friend B and I headed out to the mall the other day. I needed to return something and get some groceries for the week. I also offered her a coffee at Starbucks in exchange for a tutorial on updating curriculum guides. (Someone, a-hem, has sort of zoned out at staff meetings during those instructions, not realizing that, next year, she might need that information.) We also wandered into a store with unable-to-be-bought-here American products. I am firmly convinced that everything in this store is from the black market. I decided to find the most outlandishly priced item and take a photo for you. It had to be the buttermilk pancake mix.

Here's the price.
That's about US$50. I'll just stick to adding my own baking powder, salt, and buttermilk to my own flour, thank you very much.


Tara G. said...

Seriously!!! Ok, so I did pay $4-5/{small} loaf for soft "American sandwich bread" last week. I just can't take the batons here any longer for PB and J!!!!

Unknown said...

Oh my. That is a really high price.

Anonymous said...

I think of you when talking to some very good friends who are M's in West Africa. They've been there more than 20 years. Black Market is a way of life that you can't get around there. No gasoline and other necessary goods without it.

Sara, if the enemy ever tempts you with thoughts of how much you do without and what you miss from home, trust me when I tell you that you have it made as a M. (I am sure you know this.)

Put it this way, they must live so totally dependent on God, and have for all these years, raising their children there, etc., that they are some of the first people I call when I need a prayer partner who can touch God quickly on our behalf. We've known them for a few years now and I could tell you many stories from the little I know. Bobwire around their home with guard dogs, daily bleaching of the floors in their home, snakes in their house . . . and not your garden variety, and on and on. Parasites, malaria that they live with and yet if you met them, you wouldn't think they were any different from you and I. They are happy, normal parents, grandparents and Americans but the work they do is tremendous. Far more than I could write here.

I often think of the different parts of the world and the different callings God places on our lives. You are very blessed Sara.


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