Baking in the backyard

I still have the aftertaste of orange zest in my mouth... Gustavo and I went to visit Doña Janet and Doña Gilma. They participated in the Baking workshop at the centro a couple of years ago. Since then they've partnered up to bake cakes for sale in the neighborhood. We were sent to take pictures of the baking process. Doña Janet and Doña Gilma are outgoing, talkative and funny, not to mention fiery, opinionated and hardcore Sandinistas. Doña Janet's house is one large room, divided by furniture and sheets hung from the ceiling. It's constructed of corrugated metal and scrap wood. We sat in the backyard, where the outdoor oven is (the backyard and oven are in the pictures). Doña Janet is fascinated by flowers... she has plants growing in every corner of the yard, some seedlings growing in halved coke bottles and coffee tins. The two women told us how they learned to use their outdoor oven correctly... After burning a few cakes and undercooking a few more, they learned exactly when to put the cake in the oven using the paper test... When you throw a piece of newspaper in the coals and it slowly smokes, rather than bursting into flame, the oven is ready. After about 5 minutes of being in the oven, the sweet smell of orange pound cake permeated the air. They told us that when they're baking, you can smell the cakes all over the neighborhood. The neighbors mouths start watering and come by begging to taste them. While we waited for the cake to bake, the time passed quickly as the two women and Gustavo traded stories of the war and revolution. Doña Janet volunteered as part of the police force during the war against the contras both in the mountains and the city, and also as a midwife (which she still does). She also taught literacy classes in the mountains as part of the literacy campaign of the Sandinistas during the early '80's. Gustavo told a story about when he was living and working in the mountains of the north. One night he heard gunshots. He was freaked out, as he was living on his own, and hit the floor. One of the neighbors came and told him that the reContras (the former Contras who were against the new gov't of Violeta Chamorro and terrorizing the countryside) were killing other liberation theology affiliated workers nearby, and he should get out of there fast. He packed up and left.

So after smelling the wonderful smells of baking cake for 40 minutes, they took the cake out of the oven, let it cool, and gave each of us a big piece. Tangy and sweet at the same time, I savored the cake slowly, as I had savored the smell, and washed it down with a couple of sips of Coke. I think I could have stayed there all night listening to their stories...