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| Photo taken from http://flickr.com/eltpics by @MememtoMori23, used under a CC Attribution Non-Commercial license, http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/3.0/ |
Avocados
are amazing. They're full of nutrients, and are an extremely versatile,
irreplaceable ingredient in many dishes, my favorite of which being guacamole.
In the North, we add avocado to salads, burgers, sandwiches, and all kinds of
savory dishes. We tend to forget that it, like the tomato, is actually a fruit.
However,
what often comes as a shock to my fellow gringos is that in Brazil, avocados
are considered the base of sweet--not savory--foods. It is a popular ingredient
in milkshakes and ice cream, which, with its green color, never seems to bother
anyone, except outsiders.
And
yet, just as shocking here is the idea of an avocado being paired with salt,
rather than sugar. I'll never forget the look of disgust on one family member's
face the first time I tried to explain what guacamole was, saying that it was
something like a salad when I couldn't get the idea of a dip across. Salada de
abacate?! But after having tried it several times and come to like it, and now
that the idea is no longer completely foreign here in São José, many--not
all--of my Brazilian family members have come to like it, even though they
refer to it as a vinagrette do abacate (to which my American ears cringe in
silent protest, because, of course there's no vinegar!). One family member, who
especially enjoys my guacamole, sincerely thought the name of the dish was caga-mole,
which I guess translates to, um, well..."take a soft dump." So, even
though I make a good guacamole (much better than the few Mexican restaurants
here, I have to say), it has its fair share of bias to deal with.
On
the other side, I must have made a face when my husband suggested making
avocado ice cream during our first summer together here, when I was on a
massive home-made ice pop kick. But I tried it and decided it wasn't so bad. In
fact, the creamy texture of the fruit makes a natural complement--or even a
substitute--for milk, and so, it only makes sense to add sugar. Or chocolate. I
still haven't come to terms with drinking it in a milkshake, though, but I
think that's because I'm just not a fan of drinking milk, or of milkshakes,
smoothies and the like.
In
the end, though, it's all about perspective.
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| Photo taken from http://flickr.com/eltpics by @Barron Fujimoto, used under a CC Attribution Non-Commercial license, http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/3.0/ |
People
who restrict themselves to only one way of experiencing the taste of avocado
limit not only their palate, but their experience of life in all its colors and
flavors. We come with a lot of cultural bias and preconceived ideas that are
challenged when we try something new. Sometimes we embrace the experience,
sometimes we reluctantly or cautiously step into it, and, other times, we run
away and decide to stay in our comfort zone, never knowing what we may have
missed. Sometimes it takes getting used to a different way of doing or seeing
or, in this case, tasting something we've already associated certain ideas
with.
My
students were learning words to describe people recently. Words like a dreamer,
a drifter, a planner, a fighter, a doer. That last one gave one afternoon group
the giggles, because they were reading the word on the page, but hearing it in
their minds in Portuguese: doer is the verb "to hurt." Rather than a
hindrance to learning the language, however, I see funny interpretations like
this as a benefit when learners are able to notice it. As they laughed,
imagining some unusual associations, I asked them, "Isn't it great to be
able to think in two languages?" They all agreed. A second (or third,
etc.) language, besides teaching us things about our own language and culture,
equips us with different ways to see the world, enhancing our understanding.
I've
been playing with blackout poetry a bit recently. While I try to make the words
I highlight easy to read, I realize that my way of connecting them is probably
seen very differently by, say, speakers of Arabic, who read from right to left.
Some things that we take as a given are actually the opposite experience for
many others. When I learned the Arabic alphabet, and practiced writing a bit, I
felt like my brain was being exercised in a different way than with other
languages. Though incredibly challenging, it felt good!
Sometimes
an opposite experience makes you appreciate another aspect of your own norm. My
old home of Boston, even though the calendar says it's spring, is in the final
stretch of winter, enduring some final, dramatic snow and ice storms. This
year, they bring the extra drama of a bomb cyclone or a nor'easter or perhaps the
desperation of an evil power whose time of reckoning is near. For certain
people, the religious disciplines surrounding the season of Lent blend together
with an extra-poignant yearning for springtime and its promise of new life and
renewal--a lovely symbol of resurrection.
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| photo by Megan Roca |
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| photo by Megan Roca |
Here
in Saint Joseph of the Fields, Lent comes at the end of summer. The angry sun
and raging afternoon thunderstorms, lasting longer than usual this year, have
left us waiting out an intensely oppressive heatwave. And even something as
delightful as an avocado growing on a neighbor's tree can be sent by the stormy
skies to attack unsuspecting passerby down below. Easter is an autumnal holiday
here, and people look forward to a long weekend, chocolate eggs, and,
especially, the relief of cooler days around the corner. The thunderclouds that
roll over the valley and make the trees shiver confirm that some kind of
reconciliation between heaven and earth needs to take place, and soon.
While
I don't consider myself particularly religious, something about experiencing
this season in both hemispheres makes me take another look at my fellow humans,
and eagerly desire relief from suffering, reward for toil and for people to
unite to bring about an experience of the kingdom of heaven on earth. Some storms
need waiting out in patience. Others need faith and fancy transformed into
effectual actions to begin to make what we long for a reality.
Sometimes
we need to learn to see another perspective, taste something differently,
listen to previously unheard voices, to make it happen.
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