Fasting for the fun of it!

Not Ghandi: Finally caving in to the cravings
Pic: Jessica Kriedemann

By Jessica Kriedemann

In my Matric year, a group of my friends in a scripture union society decided to stop eating for as long as possible, in support of a fundraiser and to use their meal times for times of prayer and reflection. Because I am such a nut about my three meals a day, I couldn’t really understand why anyone would want to use hunger pains to prove a point or support a cause. Food just tastes too damn good.

Then later that year, we watched Ghandi. No kidding. Since then, I’ve wanted to try last as long as possible without the one thing that I look forward to everyday...food. I just didn’t know what I could do during the time I wasn’t eating, as I didn’t really have any cause to support and exercise probably wasnt the safest idea. Since exams are here, I decided to use meal times as study times. Writing out notes while your stomach is growling was pretty challenging.

Missing breakfast was probably the hardest as I always wake up craving my cereal and coffee, but lunch was easy and I drank lots of water to keep me filled up. I tried to keep myself as busy as possible and didn’t go to the dining hall to sit with my friends. I managed to write out notes for English and although I was hungry, I wasn’t dying or anything. That was until I went to my tut at the Rat and Parrot and had a cider. The one oh-so-refreshing Hunters Dry went to my head a little and on the walk home, I started to feel pretty weak. I got back to res and alerted my friend who said I’d turned the colour of her bleached white cardigan.

I lasted from 8am till 2.30am on my fast and surprisingly lost my actual hunger as the day continued, but I started to feel very weak that night. I grabbed a bowl of muesli, bran, yoghurt and honey in the early hours of the morning while wondering how Ghandi lasted so long. Surprisingly I had to almost force myself to eat the whole bowl, but I knew I needed to.

I learnt three things with this exercise: that I can resist any temptation if I’m determined, that hunger can strangely make you reflect on yourself in a critical way and that one should never ever, drink and fast.

This chicken ‘stew’ looks a lot like a chicken leg.

Pic: www.ru.ac.za

By Jessica Kriedemann

I don’t think the image of the foot long, green and brown strangled sausage I got slapped onto my plate during orientation week will ever leave my memory. The same can be said for the oh so desirable onion and tomato fish wrapped in tin foil which permanently put me off seafood ever since the first glance...or whiff.

Dining Hall food. Initially, I liked most of it: it was a treat getting slap chips with most meals and by ignoring the worry of first year spread, desert four times a week made me smile.

However, as the year is coming to an end, I miss the simple things like a cheese and tomato toastie. Being served two, big, Sunday lunch-type meals a day can get a bit much and often I’m not too sure what I’m putting in my mouth. Friends of mine have even labelled an unknown meat, “dead street kid” which is controversial, shameful and just gross. Breakfasts were an issue too, when this year the University’s budget cut out things like croissants and French toast and left us with a cup of cereal and a green egg each. We signed petitions, but that seemed to get swept under the rug very quickly.

I am grateful for the food, and as time passes I have learnt ways to give myself some variety. Melted feta on toast tastes a lot like Tassers cheese and cutting up the crumbed chicken and putting it with some salad and chutney, makes for one yummy “crumbed chicken salad with roasted peppers on a bed of fresh greens”.

However, I cannot wait to move into a private digs in third year...because well, in my opinion, veggies need to be cooked properly and I want to be able to open up a fridge at say three in the morning.