Nourishing Body and Soul

Marilyn, December 19, 2014

The other boarders in our house are all dispersing for the holidays.  One is returning to her home in Peru for a few weeks; two are trekking all over South America, starting with a 36 hour bus ride to Santiago; and one is flying to spend Christmas in Toronto, then coming back by way of Tierra del Fuego.  I might be overcome with jealousy at this point if it were not for the travels around Uruguay that Luke, Gene, Teo, Javy, and I will be embarking upon the day after Christmas.  I've heard only wonderful things about Punta del Diablo on the Atlantic coast, which will be our first stop, and about our inland destinations as well.

Before everyone scattered, our household planned a special dinner for Wednesday night.  The French guys proposed that they treat us to an asada, a typical Uruguayan feast with meat cooked on the parrilla, a rather elaborate built-in grill that most homes have on their patios.  The rest of us were to provide other foods.  Even though it doesn't feel anything like the holiday season for us northerners, I was determined to find or prepare something with a holiday feel to it, and Javy suggested eggnog.  Only our Canadian housemate had ever heard of it, so it seemed like a great thing to introduce to the others.  I put the question of where to buy it to the Uruguay expats' Facebook group and got a couple of leads, but only for the alcoholic type.  Since I wanted Teo and Javy to be able to partake, and since I don't enjoy the taste of alcohol, that's not what I was looking for.  Recipes for eggnog are easy to find on the internet, and they're not at all difficult, but they involve raw eggs.  When I asked our host about the wisdom of using raw eggs, she was wary, and we decided that the risk of giving everyone salmonella poisoning just as they were taking off to all parts of the continent wasn't a risk worth taking.  So I decided it was time for our first visit to Tienda Inglesia, the supermarket where I've been told I could find most anything I wanted.  I went with a Plan B in mind . . . if they didn't have eggnog, I would buy vanilla ice cream, peppermints, whipped cream, and cherries, and we'd have peppermint shakes instead.  As a last resort, I might pick up a tin of peppermint bark.

The closest Tienda Inglesia is in a big mall, which also conveniently includes a Subway, much to Teo's delight.  After lunch there we did a little window shopping, bought my mom a Christmas present, and finally found the Tienda Inglesia.  I had expected a market along the lines of Trader Joe's.  Instead, I found something more akin to Walmart.  To get to the food section, we had to  plod our way through aisles and aisles of random stuff, with many stops so that theboys could plead for this or that, though they did seem to realize that spending a thousand U.S. dollars on a huge tyrannosaurus was beyond the pale.  Tracking down the dairy section where I hoped I'd find eggnog took awhile, and by the time I got there, I was pretty sure eggnog was not the type of thing this store would carry.  I was right, but no worries, I had Plans B and C.  Red and white Christmas candies, shaped like canes or discs?  No lo tenemos.  Peppermint bark?  Not even worth trying to describe.  We ended up with a box of Parisian chocolates, which everyone at dinner enjoyed quite a bit.  Maybe Parisian chocolates will be my new Christmas tradition.  (But, really, is there any place on earth where peppermint bark wouldn't be a big hit?  Maybe I should start a business to import it.)

Though it started fashionably late by U.S standards, our household spent a lovely evening grilling and chatting and sharing new and different foods.  We noted that in all likelihood, never before in the history of the world had asada been served with pumpkin polenta, Peruvian rice, and Parisian chocolates.  It was especially nice to see our host, who has been under a lot of stress lately, kick back and laugh and have others take care of her a little bit.  I felt so privileged to be included in this group of kind and interesting people, even though I didn't understand much of the conversation.  (There was one particularly confusing segment about dead wolf pups washing up on coastal shores.)  The boys and I got to bed way too late, but it was an evening we will remember for a long, long time.

Getting up Thursday morning was a challenge, but somehow we made it to class on time.  Javy's teacher showed him how to make mate in his new special mug.  I had my first taste of this very, very popular drink and was not at all convinced that it's a habit I need to work on developing.  In my class, I continued a conversation with my teacher about the history of Jewish Uruguayans.  It's not surprising that many Jews immigrated to Uruguay in the years leading up to the Holocaust.  More surprising is that Uruguay also offered refuge to Nazi leaders after World War II.  Some continue to live anonymously in exile here.  Less anonymous are the Guantanamo detainees who, through a deal negotiated between Presidents Mujica and Obama, have arrived here in the past few days as political refugees.  The discussions I've been able to have with my very knowledgable teachers about all these events have been quite interesting, and I sense that they in turn value my perspective and opinions as a U.S. citizen.

In the afternoon, we participated in another outing through the language school with kids with disabilities.  This time, Teo, Javy, and I walked with an intern from the school and a U.S. pastor, who is a regular volunteer with the group, a couple of miles to the home where the children live.  Upon arriving, we were greeted with much jubilation and with many kisses.  The home is sparsely furnished, and I couldn't help but wonder how these fifteen or so young people fill their days.  A schedule for the week was posted on the wall, and it included a couple hours of yoga classes, the activity with us, and a few other events, but mostly it was blank space.  Upon request, the man in charge produced the two sorriest-looking soccer balls I've ever seen.  We accompanied the joyful group to a park about six blocks from the home, and on the way, one of the boys expertly dribbled and fancy-footworked one of the squashed balls.  He was clearly very talented, and I couldn't help but wonder what he could do with an adequate ball.  We arrived at the park and the soccer game began on the concrete pitch.  Javy joined right in and held his own quite well.  Before long, though, the hot sun had exhausted everyone, and we moved to the shade to await a surprise that had been promised to the group.  What was not surprising was that the wait turned out to be much longer than anticipated.  However, we were kept well-entertained by a group of young men doing some pretty amazing tumbling and acrobatics.

Finally, the surprise arrived!  Former students at the language school, a mom and teenage daughter from Germany, brought a life-size Papa Noel piñanta they had made.  I only regret that I could not have seen them transporting it to the park on the bus.  The actual piñanta part formed Papa Noel's round belly, and soon the kids had stripped away the pants and jacket, beard and hat, which they quickly discovered fit one of the boys just right.  As he paraded around the park in the Papa Noel suit, the candy-filled belly was secured to a tree, and before long the kids were lined up by height (Javy and Teo first) to take their swings.  It turns out that Papa Noel has quite the iron stomach, and it took a good deal of vigorous whacking to break it open, but results delighted everyone.

A few things struck me about this experience.  First was the fact that these kids, who have so very little, were so eager to offer the candy they had collected to me and Teo and Javy (who had, in fact, gathered up plenty of candy on their own).  It was as if part of the joy of having a possession was also having the ability to share it.  Second was the way my boys reacted to these kids.  They have grown more comfortable over the three weeks we've participated in these activities, but it's still a bit of a stretch for them.  Javy initiated interactions and played alongside the kids more.  Teo kept a bit to himself, but was observing and taking it all in.  He was the one exchanging glances with me when he noticed the poverty; he was the one commenting on how much he has in comparison.  Third, I am extraordinarily impressed with the generosity and kindness of the school staff and Scott, the U.S. pastor, who week after week make these outings happen.  After the long walk in the hot sun to the kids' home and to the park, then an energetic game of soccer, then another walk to buy snacks for the kids, then overseeing the piñanta-whacking and walking the kids back to their home, Scott still had the energy to carry Javy on his shoulders the last several blocks back to our house, all with a smile on his face and grace to spare.  Besides all that, he took the opportunity to make my boys feel valued by expressing his gratitude for their participation.  That my kids would learn to appreciate a different culture in these months abroad was a given; what I did not anticipate was that they would also see so many examples of kindness, compassion, and hospitality.  For those examples, I am deeply grateful.