De lo Koreano a lo Vegano/ From the Korean to the Vegan

     Yesterday we went to Mayaguez; in search of a Bubble Tea business.  You see, my daughter enjoys bubble tea.  Her Asian culinary interest could probably be  traced to some years ago and her interest at that time to BTS music  that now has expanded to a great variety of Asian musicians amd performers; maybe it could be due to her anime interest or her goal to traveling to Asian countries.  

    Some months ago, a dear  friend and colleague  invited us to a Bubble Tea business in the eastern part of Puerto Rico.  I had already heard about bubble tea  through TwoSet Violin musicians.  During the pandemic at its peak,  I decided to reconnect to the violin and as I searched for videos related to playing my abadoned from time to time instrument.  I discovered their channel.  The name bubble tea was very familiar because of this Youtube channel, but not the taste.  I knew it is an Asian tea-based drink that includes tapioca balls.  

    And yes, I do love bubble tea.  My Caribbean soul looks for the citrisy ones with strawberry or passion fruit popping balls instead of tapioca.  Someday, I'll move towards more traditional flavors.  So loving this drink meant searching for other business to expand my options.  And that was yesterday's adventure- to find Bubble Tea Yum in Mayaguez.

    After enjoying another bubble tea experience now with mochi (Japanese ice cream wrapped in rice paper), we decided to engage to an almost forgotten  family activity "turismo interno".  We went to the town of Mayaguez and while I have gone many times to this town, it is contained to visits to UPR Mayaguez campus or the mall.

    The plaza publica is beautiful.  While its statue of Christopher Columbus is a reminder of the violent birth  of what is our contemporary cultural identity,  we cannot erase what has occurred but transform the present and future.  There we also  see the Yaguez Theater and in that main street, Hostos image appears. Eugenio Maria de Hostos  should be a name known to all Puerto Ricans instead of just a seen as holiday in a calendar.

     We ended our adventure in a small business La Fresqueria Salad Bar in Mayaguez.  We enjoyed very delicious and healthy food.  As I enjoyed my Buddah Bowl salad with quinoa, chickpeas and avocado, my mind traveled to past classes with Dr. Nicholas Faraclas and the subsistence economy and lifestyle.  Modern life in many instances have erased or silenced our ancestral gifts.

    My grandmothers both cultivated the land.  Abuela Che had her huerto.  As soon as the living room  doors opened,  we were greeted by  her small vegetable garden that shared space with her flowers.  I remember clearly the eggplants that she would cook  when there were in season.  I also remember the chili peppers plants that grew near the washing machine shed.  My grandfather's eternal love for "pique"  would never suffer lack of this extremeley spicy dressing.

    I also remembered my aunt Titi Ana.  She truly loved the land.  Even though she lived so many decades in New York, upon her return to Maunabo, she  again embraced the land as if she had never left the island.  Every day she would go about  with rubber farming boots planting and uprootring crops.  As a young adult, I would never understand what I labeled as obsession to farming.  In my limited view I would think, why burn your skin under the sun IF you can go to an air conditioned supermarket and buy it all there?  It saddens me how I missed sharing special moments and acquiring knowledge through Titi Ana about the land and the true meaning of life.

    If I were to chose a crop that would emcompass the soul of Titi Ana, it would be gandules (pigeon peas).  Throughout  the year, she would be connected with these plants.  In the front fence of our house, she planted many seeds that later became small shrubby trees that decorated this area.  When the crops were ready, she would pick up the pods and bring them home.

    By that time, I was not into anything related to nature.  So  I no longer participated the shelling the gandules. But when I child, I still have vague memories of this activity and I can still feel the peace and happiness I felt as I opened the pods and the small pigeon peas would fall into the bowl until it overflowed with hundreds of grains.  There were also the childish expectation of a worm.  Sometimes a small blue/ green worm would appear to my delight even though I don't believe for the adults, it produced the same emotion.  

  Many memories came as I ate that bowl of salad which ended with memories of my father.  He loved aguacates, but I always rejected even trying to taste it.  Avocados were so important in my family.  Abuela Che would always have one when available to slice and add to the lunch she prepared for abuelo Pedro.  I loved looking at of  green and greensih yellow color  a slice of avocado had.  But to taste it, NO!

    Papi loved aguacates.  The closest I would have an avocado near me was the overly mature ones as a facial mask.  But the taste was out of bounds in my agenda.  Before papi died, he planted an avocado tree in Maunabo.  He mentioned, he wouldn't see it grow nor its crops.  Now, I have learned to eat and enjoy the taste of avocado, but papi would never know I have done so.  I  embrace the land and try to create a part-time huerto and even a gandules tree has  persistsed and survived  my lack of care due to my being here and there. It has gifted me with its crop and as I collect the pods, I imagine

how would Titi Ana smile and celebrate that I now emabrce my ancestral gifts.