Baby's First Food

"Hi there Maude. How're things?"
"Oh, real good, Nancy. Would you believe it, little Timmy's on solid foods now?"
"You don't say. They do grow up fast."
"The other day we gave the little tyke banana and rice for the first time."
"Isn't that sweet. My Alice used to love mashed pumpkin."

The world over, eating solid food for the first time is a baby milestone along with the first smile and sleeping through the night. In the West, proud mothers might share the news with friends. Steamed carrots brave the blender or parents buy puree in diminutive glass jars. And that's pretty much it. The baby eats her first "meal" in front of a doting audience of two.

In Nepal they throw a party. Today I was fortunate enough to be invited to a baby's first food ceremony. Nepalese babies continue to nurse until they are two or three, but at six months real food is introduced into their diet. As of this morning, an infant known to me as "Babu" ("Baby boy" in Nepali) had only consumed breast milk. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, milk was the only thing on the menu. Today all that changed.

I was welcomed into a simple house, much like the 150 year-old guesthouse where I am staying. I sat on a mat on the dry mud floor, next to Suresh, the president of Panauti village's tourism development committee, who acted as my guide. He explained the baby's family is Bramin, the highest Hindu caste. Lucky Babu should have access to education and the resulting better job prospects.

An imam officiated the ceremony. Spread in front of him on the floor was what looked to me like a chaotic mess of religious trinkets, a brass teapot, spilled rice and grain, leaves, garlands of marigolds, incense and so forth. Babu sat contentedly in his uncle's arms, decked out in a little hood and cape and wearing thick eyeliner to ward off evil. The imam began chanting, flinging grains of rice and painting dots on the teapot. Guests continued to arrive and were seated on the floor.

Babu's father, chin-length hair framing his round face took turns holding his son. He is a Hindu priest and an astrologer. He was clearly enjoying his role in this joyous day. A young woman took dozens of photos with her mobile, calling, "Babu!" and clapping her hands to get his attention. Curiously, for a while Babu's mother was nowhere to be seen. Suresh thought she was downstairs, so perhaps she was busy helping to prepare food. However even when she did appear, she lingered behind the other guests, as if reticent to get involved. Is this custom, I wondered, or is the woman just very shy?

A tray containing a book, brick, knife and pencil were placed in front of Babu. Suresh explained this was a test. The chosen object gives an indication of the baby's future. Babu picked up the pencil. A cheer went up in the room. This means he will be a good student. It's hard to imagine an infant picking up a brick, but if he did he would be a skilled builder. Fortunately he didn't go for the knife as this could signify a future as a thief.

A woman entered the room carrying a mallard. One of the main ways Nepalese and Indian Hinduism differ is in the former's use of animal sacrifice. Most Indians are vegetarians so killing animals ceremonially or otherwise is a big no-no. I happen to be fond of ducks. I think they have a lot more personality than chickens. I hoped this duck was not about to be slaughtered. The truth as it turns out was significantly more unpredictable. Babu and the duck were going to kiss. It is good luck apparently. The woman gave the duck's bill and webbed feet a little wash. You know how babies like to put everything in their mouths? The duck's bill was held closed near to Babu's face and he happily latched on to it for a taste. Someone wasn't fast enough with her camera and wanted the kiss repeated. Babu and duck obliged.

Babu's clothes were removed and he was wrapped in a red shawl. He sat on his uncle's lap and his father fed him some banana. Another piece was lit on fire for the sun god. Large platters of food were set down. Babu was given rice, egg, and small tastes of many other foods. He seemed to like everything.

Babu was dressed in special red and gold ceremonial clothes. The guests showered him with petals and popcorn. Someone offered a handful to Babu's mother, still lingering in the back, but she declined. We filed outside, Babu in tow and made a tour of the village's closest seven or so Hindu shrines.

Back inside the house, it was the guests' turn to eat. The feast was staggering. Rice with almonds and raisins, tender stewed goat, chickpeas, potato and aubergine curry and tomato curry. Our hosts kept ladling more food onto our metal plates. I got to eat with my hand which was enjoyably tactile but messy. Dessert was yogurt with sliced fruit. Heavenly. Fortunately I was served my yogurt in a mug with a spoon, though some dexterous folks ate it with fingers off plates.

Before leaving I congratulated Babu's father and thanked him profusely for letting me take part in this special day. I told him the food was delicious. I would have thanked his shy wife as well but she was nowhere to be seen.

- Panauti, Nepal