Corn Maïs

Okay, so the title of this post is a bad, bad pun. “Maïs” in French means “corn” or, as the Brits would say, “maize,” and is pronounced roughly the same way. So, why the pun?

Well, first off I’m missing fall back in the States and corn-mazes are a big-time fun fall thing to do, though I haven’t done one since me and a certain expert hiker friend of mine and I got lost in a small one while looking for pumpkins for the first annual UConn History House Halloween Party. He knows who he is….

The fall has always been my favorite time of year and one of the few things I really liked about living in CT (and my forty or so minute commute to campus) was the beautiful change of the leaves. It’s just not the same here. I’m waiting, though, for the Christmas season to kick in, that I know will be a lot of fun and just plain beautiful.

The second reason is that in my research I keep coming across mentions of corn and maïs in the documents I’m reading. Most of the time it’s all about how much is imported and distributed. The interesting thing, though, is that corn was not a staple human food in Europe at the time of World War I. At least not in Belgium. Corn was what was fed to animals. People didn’t eat it. The harvests at the time, however, were pretty bad and wheat – to make bread – was not plentiful and the US had – as it usually does – an excess of corn and Americans, especially those in the South, have had a long history of eating corn. So, where does that leave the Belgians?

Well, a big question I’m wrestling with is what happens when humanitarians and locals interact and this corn issue is important. I’ve now discovered some evidence to help with this: Belgian humanitarian leaders saying that American CRB delegates will help “instruct” the Belgian people in the use of corn and corn flower. I’ve also uncovered some recipes that were transmitted to the Belgian Comité National.

Of course, you don’t discover this stuff until you’ve read or skimmed over many, many, many pages of French (or English) talking about things that you just don’t find important, but when things like this pop up it makes for a good day in the archive and justification for missing my friends, my family, my girlfriend, and fall back in New England.