"A brave heart will fight great battles, will learn to stand and continue to push forward when the nature of life brings it down...a brave heart, will work hole-heartedly and sustain itself...no matter what tests of faith knock at its door..."
MINUTAS On the Weekends
Last night I was thinking of minutas, I have not written a story about this yet, but I will come back to this topic or reference it later on. What is a Minuta?
Minutas are shaved ice with colorful sugar, sprikled with different topings, and or caramel. Mom used to make the best sweets to be poured on Minutas. She was a pro! Back in El Salvador, in Zacatecoluca, mom used to sell Minutas and other items at soccer games. As a little girl, there was nothing I loved more than to be there with her selling Minutas and helping her shave the ice.
Hot days were awesome to sit under a shady tree and relax the day away sipping from the sugary contents of the Minutas. Mom would make the syrup from Tamarindos (a type of seed), and once poured on the shaved ice, it froze for just a few seconds and then melted down to give the savoury taste of unity in the ice.
I want one, one of those we ate when we were kids and sat at the roots of the mango trees, played with other kids from the area, and ran freely just lost in our world of imaginations. I want a minuta, to bring back the refreshning touch of life into my soul, to wake me up to that world of laughter and silliness.
My favorite type of Minuta was the cafe con leche (coffee and milk). The ice we shaved was a huge block of ice as tall as me and probably even heavier...It was a perfect square and I stood on a little stool made of bricks and shaved the ice for my mom. I felt useful when I helped and earned myself some recognition to being a little helper.
Oh, the Minuta days! I miss heading to the market and buying the HUGE BLOCK OF ICE :)
I am feeling a bit melancholy and was driven back in time by some words that came into my mind: MINUTAS!
Somtime I will write more on this so you can get a full view into what it is and how it works. I provided some insightful information, however, there's more to it.
Folly Beach
1/23/11 - Maria
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Adobe Smell - Mi Casa
"Let the heart sing, scream, cry in exhaultation...let the body be richly nourished and developed...through lessons given to prosper....Let it plant the seeds of wisdom and root it's foundations with the purest of knowledge..."
EL TRABAJO DEL ALMA
EL TRABAJO DEL ALMA
My mind has taken a trip into the past...seems as though every day I miss ever so much the smell of wood burning in the distance, the fresh air on a cool morning, the view of morning glories over crowding the bushes and trees, the smell of our adobe home....the quietness and aroma of fresh ground coffee or hot chocolate freshly grounded from the coco-beans. I breathe this air- this reality, but it is not the same. I long to feel the cool breeze caress my skin to comfort me and tell me that everything will be okay. I miss those days, where worry was not part of our vocabulary, where survival was merely an instinct and not an occupation.
My mind has ejected my dull body, has evacuated the premises of daily routines. Off it goes into the thin air seeking for the spices of life. I want to be sprinkled with the seasons of joy, laughter, family, and the aweness of happyness...of the days of innocense. I long to feel the cool splash of fresh well water in my sleepy face, to see the birds flying freely in their natural environment and hear their joyeous melodies in thanksgiving! To hear the dogs bark as they stretch their sleepy body as if getting ready for a long day’s work. I miss you, I miss touching the roughness of compiled adobe bricks, I miss leaning my head against the dusty edges and breathing your scent and storing your memory in my lungs. I miss you, my home, my work, my life. From the day we dug the well, to the days we labored mixing the mudd with our feet, adding water, shoveling dirt, to finally and carefully filling the square moldings...we were there till you finally dried. I miss you, more so now, than ever before. You were my shelter, you were everything. You heard me cry, you saw me laugh, and you protected us during hail storms, strong winds, and protected us from the outside world. You kept us in a world of imaginative securities and adventures. You were our establishment, the foundation of our own existence...you rooted our hearts into the earthly walks covered with prints of our hard efforts to build you.
I miss you, because you stood there no matter what the circumstances. You were patience with us even when we abandoned you and left to go to San Miguel, you waited. Upon our returns, you offered us your love, your protection. Because even though we experienced the hardships of life, you were there and embraced us with your might. Oh, how do I miss sitting inside you, to reflect upon a day’s work, to close my eyes and know you are watching over me. I miss you, and miss your edges, the window that once served as an escape route, and the ceilings that once became my “tree” house. I miss hugging up on your pillars, and sit there under a rainy day. Oh, so magestic you stood there, proud, and ever so welcoming. It was there where I learnt to cook, learnt to be a woman and leave behind the childhood of a little girl....it was there where our hearts in unison silently wep the desire to have our mother with us...to have our father closer...it was there where we felt and were alone. Our hearts were empty, but you kept us secured...
You were the best home I have ever had. Now, I long to have you back, to feel you protecting me, to give me the peace of mind to lie down and feel safe and secure. I miss you ever so much my adobe home. You served your purpose; however, I have heard you were torn down to make space for something new. Forgive me for not saying goodbye. I wished I had taken a piece of you to have kept and to remind me of how wonderful you were in my life and that of my siblings. I thank you, for your true love, comfort, and simplicity. Your memory lives on in my mind, your smell is barely reminded on hot summer days while walking on dirt paths...but it is not the same.
“Como quisiera poder vivir sin aire, Como quisiera vivir sin agua, me encantaria quererte UN poco menos,
“Como pudiera un ave volar sin alas...como quisiera poder vivir sin ti....”
[Translated below]
“I wished I could live without air, I wished I could live without water, I would love to love you a bit lesser .... “How could a bird fly without winds....I wish I could live without you...”
This is a song by Mana, one that reminds my heart exactly what I miss and how much I long to have a piece of you, right at this very moment. To hold you and keep you protected in a jewelry box - to whisper to you and tell you that you are everything to me, just as you kept us in perfect care.
**This was around 1991-early1993 when we built this home...together as a family, the drops of sweat rolled down our foreheads and the blisters in our hands showed much of our arduous labor...but our hearts and minds were set in one thing...to help complete the job. To put into action our abilities and skills given to us to be men and women of values...this is where we learned the lessons of independency...to fight the battle and conquer the unattainable...we did it, we continue to be fruitful in our own independent ways...
Written: Friday, October 01, 2010
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Life, death, or a MANGO?
"Be smart, think before you act..."
IT was RED, Yellow, Green, and it sat Way ON TOP...
School was back in session. Summer was over and this meant no more fun. Our mom had had our uniforms made and had left them ready for us. I wore a kaki tube skirt with a white blouse. My skirt made me look like I was constipated as I struggled to walk in it, much less run. Victor had it easy; he wore kaki pants and a white shirt. We were set for school. Due to the lack of infracstructure, we walked long distances to school. We walked on the dirt road, hitch hiking a ride here and there (only if the trucks would stop, which was almost never). If not, we had to find short cuts to make it in time for our first class.
Our walk was lonely most of the time, as it was just Victor and I. Sometimes our neighbor Levira would walk with us, but she was much older than us and she was much faster, so keeping up in a tight skirt was just beyond possible. We walked past a Catholic Church and everytime, we would Persinarnos (do the cross on our body), as an acknowledgment of our faith. On occassions we would go up the stairs, make reverence, and ring the bell (with the Reverend's permission). The church was so unique, it was small but it stood there so firmly and made its presence known.
We also went pass this place we called El Molino in Los Reyes which is where if we had high quantity of cooked corn to grind, we would bring to this place, wait in line and pay to make the dough for Tamales or any other large amount of grains we needed to grind. At el Molino, there lived a lady who walked very weird, our guess was that she had a back problem or one of her legs was shorter than the other, however, what I remember the most was that some times everyone would make fun of her (our less compassionate classmates who would catch up with us). She was matured, so she did not care, but rumors had it that she would chase whoever made fun of her when they walked alone. She was an interesting personage and we all knew about her, but didn’t exactly know her. I felt sad for her, however, I knew that she was much older than I and she understood that kids had no idea of what she was going through or how her deformity was a burden or not.
After acknowledging our sorroundings we kept walking to school, past one of my mom’s nephew’s house and on we walked down the dirt road. The school was brand new, it was two huge buildings separated by a field that was just about half of the soccer field. One of our classes consisted in helping around the school to maintain it clean and to plant flowers and greenery. La Escuela de Los Reyes - was in a different town than our home. It was quite the walk; however, we managed as we imagined our own adventures and mischiefs throughout the walk.
After school would let out, we would take a short cut as a way to change the scenery. We cut across "nice" people’s backyards, over the cercas (fences), and around malicious dogs. Other classmates joined our walk and in a small group we ventured to cut across the dirt road and make our trip a bit more exciting. One place we did end up crossing was the Molino’s backyard, they had the largest amount of land and it was just in front of us as a short cut. In that land, there was a huge mango tree. It looked lonely and the mangoes above were tempting and inviting our taste bubs. The thought lingered in us and the savory, juicy taste of a riped Mango caresed our tongues. Before we knew it, Victor had climbed the tree and told us to catch the mangos as he would cut them and stuff them in our back packs. We were in the middle of our most mischieveous deed, stealing from a private property, and stealing a precious fruit, which to us it was far more inviting to steal from this place than to pick the mangoes from the trees that rested over the cementary where no one would care if we took a few. However, these mangoes were the ones we wanted and not a mango that had grown through absorving the nutrients of someone's remains.
We were so concentrated and almost ready to bite into a fresh cut mango when we saw death hollering at the top of his lungs, waving what looked like a scythe...it was a machete. Scared for our lives, we grabbed the backpacks and took off running over the fences, through the thick bushy mescal plants, and into the cementary, there we hid. Upon reaching safety, we realized Victor was left behind. Slowly we returned to the scene of the crime, hidding through the thick bushery and searched the land for Victor, there was no sight of him anywhere. Did he make it down the tree to run? Or did he get caught and the angry citizen stashed at him? We feared the worse as we could not see him. Just as we were on the verge of crying as we were imagining the worse of things that could've happened...our anguished little hearts gazed blankly into the land franctically searching..... a Mango flew past our heads and landed with a loud thump on an old grave...we looked up into the tree, Victor sat way on top waiting for our signal of safety... he sat on a huge branch and covered himself with smaller branches! Smart! We were glad that he was ok, but our faces still had that blank stare...of fear and shame... The owner had been looming around as if like an angry dog waiting and anticipating some kind of action. He was disgusted and we knew he had every right to be. Just as the owner went back to his house, Victor climbed down, and all of us ran past the tumbstones and quietly walked the rest of the way home. Although it wasn’t said, we knew we would not be taking that short cut for sometime until that angry, malicious guy was over it... we were tempted by our hunger to be able to take a sinfully bite into such a delicious fruit...it seemed as though they had never attempted to pick the mangoes as there were tons on the ground...they fell to their misfortune, to rot and be a composition, a nutrient to the ground...our guess was he liked it that way.
Upon reflecting on that day’s event, it was either our life, death, or a Mango. We took life and the bonus, a Mango. It was a lesson learned: to ask before we dig into our own acts,to be safe and be thankful for a fruit earned through permission, not through stealing.
WRITTEN: Thursday, September 30, 2010 @2:24pm (this story was started before this date though)
Monday, January 24, 2011
A Silent Walk...
"A Breath of Fresh air gives hope for new beginnings..."
BE PATIENT
After all the series of unplanned events that have occurred in my life, things just seemed bleak and so distant. And so, I decided to just go into a mini adventure of my own. To walk down the sandy beach of Folly Beach...to breath the salty fresh air and release my inner spirit into the crisp cold evening...to wonder and roam the sights of wonders before me.
Off I was without uttering a word, in pure silence and in awe of what has been so perfectly crafted in front of me...the cold waters splashing against the pier, the birds standing as if frozen on the sand, it almost seemed as if they were part of a garden...so carefully planted they stood there...without moving at all...the only movements came when the wind would interrupt such peacefulness blowing on their feathers as if it were a delicate petal being brushed by the sweaping wind.
My feet crushed the small sea shells as I walked on forward gazing into the distant and getting lost in thought to the sound of the waves, people laughing far behind me, and those riding their bikes along with their dogs running next to them...everything seemed so picturesque. So at peace. This is what I needed, a moment to reflect upon the beauty before me, to follow the sun as it began to sink behind the perfectlty lined beach homes.
I was absorbed by the delightful sun rays slowly fading into the distance, and gazing into the shadows of love...a couple playfully ran accross the sand as if tagging each other and together they jumped to cross a small puddle of salt water. Ah, how fresh it felt and rejuvenating to feel the cold wind slap my face as if asking me to wake up and face reality as is. To think that such moment only exists if we seek it...
That was what I needed, an awakening, a touch of refreshment joy. A moment to reflect upon what God has carefully been laying infront of me. To glance up into the Folly Pier and know, that for each structure there is a foundation, I have that foundation within me. I simply had overlooked the details of such remarkable establishment. Thus, it is set...God took that walk with me and held my hand...He pointed to the great master pieces He has been working on...and so, as any lover would do, He took my breath away just as the sun hid behind the beach houses...my shadow was gone, my feet were numb and so was my face, ears, and hands...time to head back to the car....
It was the most peaceful of moments I had had in the longest...It was just God and I...silently walking...silently loving on what He gave me...a life to fulfill and the wonders for me to use as a rejuvenation tool...to keep going and always know that HE is behind me and behind everything there is.....
BE PATIENT
After all the series of unplanned events that have occurred in my life, things just seemed bleak and so distant. And so, I decided to just go into a mini adventure of my own. To walk down the sandy beach of Folly Beach...to breath the salty fresh air and release my inner spirit into the crisp cold evening...to wonder and roam the sights of wonders before me.
Off I was without uttering a word, in pure silence and in awe of what has been so perfectly crafted in front of me...the cold waters splashing against the pier, the birds standing as if frozen on the sand, it almost seemed as if they were part of a garden...so carefully planted they stood there...without moving at all...the only movements came when the wind would interrupt such peacefulness blowing on their feathers as if it were a delicate petal being brushed by the sweaping wind.
My feet crushed the small sea shells as I walked on forward gazing into the distant and getting lost in thought to the sound of the waves, people laughing far behind me, and those riding their bikes along with their dogs running next to them...everything seemed so picturesque. So at peace. This is what I needed, a moment to reflect upon the beauty before me, to follow the sun as it began to sink behind the perfectlty lined beach homes.
I was absorbed by the delightful sun rays slowly fading into the distance, and gazing into the shadows of love...a couple playfully ran accross the sand as if tagging each other and together they jumped to cross a small puddle of salt water. Ah, how fresh it felt and rejuvenating to feel the cold wind slap my face as if asking me to wake up and face reality as is. To think that such moment only exists if we seek it...
That was what I needed, an awakening, a touch of refreshment joy. A moment to reflect upon what God has carefully been laying infront of me. To glance up into the Folly Pier and know, that for each structure there is a foundation, I have that foundation within me. I simply had overlooked the details of such remarkable establishment. Thus, it is set...God took that walk with me and held my hand...He pointed to the great master pieces He has been working on...and so, as any lover would do, He took my breath away just as the sun hid behind the beach houses...my shadow was gone, my feet were numb and so was my face, ears, and hands...time to head back to the car....
It was the most peaceful of moments I had had in the longest...It was just God and I...silently walking...silently loving on what He gave me...a life to fulfill and the wonders for me to use as a rejuvenation tool...to keep going and always know that HE is behind me and behind everything there is.....
Friday, January 21, 2011
EL EDEN
"And thus the curtains fell with great roar and the stage shook to its foundation...realeasing a wave of vague dusty trail that was barely visible...disapearing into the air"
ADIOS - Goodbye For now...
It's suffocating...this feeling of anguish and anxiety...knowing you will be laid unpon that piece of property where once we set our eyes on, where our hearts wondered through the walk ways of perfect harmony... El Eden, such is the perfect resting place for your tired body.
Mama Cati, once had shown us that place, had pointed out the specific spot where you and her would lay forever in eternal rest. 20years ago, we walked through the green grass never thinking about this day...never thinking this day would come...
My stomach is shaking, rattling as if a it were a magnitude 5 earthquake releasing all frustration...I am not there, however, feels as though I am glancing over...begging for you to stay just a little longer. It is all too real now...everyone, dressed in depressing colors elegantly, yet so mournfully distant their glassy eyes wonder off into the sureal world...escaping this sudden reality of the uncertain process...of the unexpected departure of a loved individual.
And so, from a distance, I am thinking of you Papa Pedro...thinking of all those who are by your carcass side.. I know you are there in spirit asking everyone to lift up their spirits and not agonize within...I cannot help it..my heart is slowly bleeding...it trembles with insecurity and pain...I cannot stop the bleeding and slowly I grow weak...oh, this is so debilitating...I feel as if a wave of heat and coldness has touched my body leaving me nauceous....this is hard....
Off you go - into a world of unknown secrects and wonders...into eternal rest and peace...a place we merely have imaginations off...a delicate atmosphere sorrounded by finest silks, gold, luxuries that our minds cannot wrap our thoughts into...PAPA PEDRO...
Te Quiero mucho, I love you very much! I did not have a chance to tell you these words and missed out so much...so many memories we could've had...God knows why and what is the purpose for all of us to be so segregated and split into so many places...from where I am, I am thinking of you...talking to God to give you the best pillow He has so that your head can finally rest..without thinking of the painful moments you went through...When HIS angels visit you, send a note for us, ask HIM to give us peace, comfort, and overall unity...And don't forget, take a peak all through Heaven and whisper in my dreams the wonders of our Lord.
Lord, hence the situation we are in...this season of life and growth. Take this moment and speak to us the words of comfort and guide each person into gaining strength....embrace this family and give each the hope for a better day...Lord, look after our Papa Pedro, his last moments were painful to him, please receive him with all LOVE and CARE. You know his life History better than we can ever imagine...you know how hard he worked and struggled throughout the years to get to where he was...among his loving children, grandkids, great-grandkids, and this...this is the last that any of us will see of him....receive him LORD and may his memory be a seed for wisdom and maturity...may it be an example into our lives...Thank you Lord for your marvelous wonders and for always keeping us under YOUR CARE...he was a man of courage! Elegant and very determined....I LOVE YOU PAPA PEDRO.....................
**I am not the best with words or goodbyes, this is a difficult stage of life and moving on seems as sluggish as can be...it's one of those moments where all you want to do is crawl back in bed...sleep away into a dream...
ADIOS - Goodbye For now...
It's suffocating...this feeling of anguish and anxiety...knowing you will be laid unpon that piece of property where once we set our eyes on, where our hearts wondered through the walk ways of perfect harmony... El Eden, such is the perfect resting place for your tired body.
Mama Cati, once had shown us that place, had pointed out the specific spot where you and her would lay forever in eternal rest. 20years ago, we walked through the green grass never thinking about this day...never thinking this day would come...
My stomach is shaking, rattling as if a it were a magnitude 5 earthquake releasing all frustration...I am not there, however, feels as though I am glancing over...begging for you to stay just a little longer. It is all too real now...everyone, dressed in depressing colors elegantly, yet so mournfully distant their glassy eyes wonder off into the sureal world...escaping this sudden reality of the uncertain process...of the unexpected departure of a loved individual.
And so, from a distance, I am thinking of you Papa Pedro...thinking of all those who are by your carcass side.. I know you are there in spirit asking everyone to lift up their spirits and not agonize within...I cannot help it..my heart is slowly bleeding...it trembles with insecurity and pain...I cannot stop the bleeding and slowly I grow weak...oh, this is so debilitating...I feel as if a wave of heat and coldness has touched my body leaving me nauceous....this is hard....
Off you go - into a world of unknown secrects and wonders...into eternal rest and peace...a place we merely have imaginations off...a delicate atmosphere sorrounded by finest silks, gold, luxuries that our minds cannot wrap our thoughts into...PAPA PEDRO...
Te Quiero mucho, I love you very much! I did not have a chance to tell you these words and missed out so much...so many memories we could've had...God knows why and what is the purpose for all of us to be so segregated and split into so many places...from where I am, I am thinking of you...talking to God to give you the best pillow He has so that your head can finally rest..without thinking of the painful moments you went through...When HIS angels visit you, send a note for us, ask HIM to give us peace, comfort, and overall unity...And don't forget, take a peak all through Heaven and whisper in my dreams the wonders of our Lord.
Lord, hence the situation we are in...this season of life and growth. Take this moment and speak to us the words of comfort and guide each person into gaining strength....embrace this family and give each the hope for a better day...Lord, look after our Papa Pedro, his last moments were painful to him, please receive him with all LOVE and CARE. You know his life History better than we can ever imagine...you know how hard he worked and struggled throughout the years to get to where he was...among his loving children, grandkids, great-grandkids, and this...this is the last that any of us will see of him....receive him LORD and may his memory be a seed for wisdom and maturity...may it be an example into our lives...Thank you Lord for your marvelous wonders and for always keeping us under YOUR CARE...he was a man of courage! Elegant and very determined....I LOVE YOU PAPA PEDRO.....................
**I am not the best with words or goodbyes, this is a difficult stage of life and moving on seems as sluggish as can be...it's one of those moments where all you want to do is crawl back in bed...sleep away into a dream...
 |
| Sunset in Costa Rica - Photo Curtesy of Marcos Torrentes - My cousin in Costa Rica |
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Las Brizas
"Let the adrenaline flow and carry you through the excitment of being set free..."
Cool Breeze
La Escula y una tortura de Morcielagos
Long before la Escuela de los Reyes got built, we would take classes at Las Brizas (cool breeze). Las Brizas was the name of our area and the school was in an “abandoned” building that had a ton of rooms, some of which we were forbidden to go into. Nevertheless, being young and being explorers, our recess consisted in exploring the dark rooms and playing hid-&-go-seek. The building looked as if some wealthy explorer family had once lived there and abandoned it. It was pretty, it was like a huge square, filled with windows every where, and in the center of the construction were the rooms: bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchen, and sitting area with closets – kind of like a house sorrounded by a verandah all around, except ground level.
During one super stifling school day, we opened all the windows, doors, and continued with classes as normal. The heat though was unberable that morning and we knew we would not last very long there for class. We waited for the entire class of 20 students to arrive before we headed to take class out door. As we sat there chanting some songs an unexpected attendance of uninvited guests flew past our heads, desks, and as quick as they appeared, books and notebooks began to fly up and across the room. Everyone started screaming and rushing to make it out the door and the morcielagos (bats) just kept emerging by the hundreds! (Well maybe lesser, but at such moment of commotion, it felt as if there were tons of them). Kids ran out and bats continued to fly everywhere!
Everyone took cover, their sound, screams were piercing and thus proclaiming their sudden agrivated mood...we knew we had altered their air by opening all doors and windows. Their living quarters were the dark rooms and the dark bigas (2x4s used to create ceiling), those were their resting areas. We ran outside and took cover by the lemon and marañon trees (cashew trees). There, in what seemed a mixture of laughs and frightened voices, we talked over each other how we had never noticed they lived there!
School let out early as it had been a traumatic moment. Our teacher Señora Rosario, who came long distance just to teach us had grown fond of us therefore, would often go have lunch with us if not go to the monja’s house (nun’s house) and wait for the daily sermon to start at the church. We loved her as she taught us many things and she would share some stories about traveling and North America. We were intrigued by her features as well, she was somewhat short, her hair short and curly…she carried herself very properly, and thus why we liked her so much.
A hot school day ended due to massive bat attack! Another moment of inspiring advenures of being bombarted by screams and wings flapping at our heads! That’s what happens when you live out in the country side where an abandoned building becomes the rooms of knowledge and wisdom. It was in that school where the intellectuals stood out, although no one thought of it then; it was there where the bright spirited imaginations took sail.
Written: Thursday, September 30, 2010
Written: Thursday, September 30, 2010
A Recipe For Life....
"Sugar, love, and unity...the spice's for a perfect sustenance for life's endeavours"
1. MARQUEZOTE SALVADOREÑO
½ Cup of all purpose self-rising flour
1 cup of sugar
6 eggs
1 teaspoon of ground cinnamon
First, separate the yolk from the whites, and beat at medium speed the egg whites until they are firm. Slowly begin to add the egg yolkes, mixing at medium speed, until the mixture is firm. Add the sugar, slowly and continue to beat slowly, then add the flour, also slowly while still mixing it slow. Add the cinnamon and beat mixture till it is all well mixed. Pour in baking pan of choice and cook for about 20-35mins or until fully cooked.
Story:
Being young in a third world country you must do whatever it takes and whatever your family’s need to cover each other and struggle for survival in unity. Those in deed were the moments when we all collaborated in one way or another. While our mother prepared the mixture for this famous and most delicious bread, our older brother preheated the oven: more clearly, he went wood picking, turned the oven on which was made of clay/bricks/ or some are of cement. Our oven was a combination of the three. My older brother would start up the fire and let the wood burn all the way through while covering the entrance/oven door and the back. Note the oven was like a shape of an igloo home, exactly the same way. The HORNO (oven) was lit with a massive amount of wood burning inside it, until it was all just charcoal and ashes. Those ashes are then "swept out" and cleaned, leaving just a pure and clean oven...very hot though....see image below...
Around the corner, there would be my younger sister at the time, adding oil or butter to the tin cans used for baking. Some were sardine cans, others were from some recycled products, either way, and we didn’t quite have baking pans as they are called here. No one was embarrassed to use tin cans as those created the perfect shape and size of bread. She would butter up the bottoms, sides, and continue to clean the rest of the cans for future use. My youngest siblings were too young to do anything, they were our little jewels.
What was my contribution? I was the sales girl. Grabbed my basket loaded with bread and walked our entire neighborhood and even further, to sell the bread we had all worked so hard for, so that we could earn our way and meals (thus was taught to us by our mom – never allowing ourselves to be dependant of anyone). It was a great lesson and for that experience I am so thankful. This does not necessarily mean we were starving to death, but it was our way to make our living, while my father was in the U.S.A. He did support us financially, sometimes we needed to find a way to make a little extra and work a bit more to help out around the house and feel accomplished on our own.
I was maybe 8 or 9 at the time, although it feels as thought time never seemed to pass…it stood still and our days were forever the longest. Those were the learning days, the days of endurance and early maturity. Indeed, sometimes I have to question myself what is best; to be back in that time and work twice as hard everyday for absolutely no future, or struggle everyday here with the negativity around us and work towards a future?
Marquezote, is a fluffly bread almost like angel cake, but it’s way tastier! Nothing can actually compare to it. I have attempted to make it here, however, seems that the one ingredient missing is that oven we used. To bake this bread in the heat of actual wood would be like biting into a piece of heavenly baked bread…
This small insightful story takes place while we lived in San Miguel, El Salvador – we lived in Colonia Santa Carlota, a neighborhood rich in memories and past times. More so, this was were most of dad’s family lived. We sought to work hard every day as a family to earn our ways while also understanding that our dad was doing just the same. We baked breads, made Tamales of different types, sold fruit, etc…it was our way. We were good at it and we did it just great. If I had to pick up on my pride and toss it aside, I would do it all over in a heart beat. I sold almost everything and often came back for more to sell even more. I was also accompanied by my oldest brother so to keep me safe. I miss those days of nurishful knowledge and the absorbtion of unique experiences.
Written: Wednesday, April 21, 2010 @ 2:40pm
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