Thursday morning, one of the employees at Casa de Esperanza passed out and fell onto the floor. I wasn't there, but it created quite a stir. I was in town and met Dorian at the airport and we took Elvia to the doctor. She was told she needed to not have anything to eat or drink after midnight and return at 8:00 on Friday morning. They were going to take a blood test and then she needed to eat and wait two hours and return for another blood test. I told Elvia I would pick her up at 7:00 and get her to the doctor by 8:00.
As promised, I arrived at 7:00 and Elvia and her little daughter got in my car. It was raining. I parked a block away from the doctor's office and we walked. If I had to have a blood test and then eat, I would have been planning where I was going to eat since I left the doctor's office on Thursday. More than likely it would have been Dunkin Donuts. It might have been Espresso Americano. I might have even walked another block to Cafe Mania. I think most Americans would have done the same thing.
After the first blood test, Elvia, Gina and I walked back to my car and she opened her purse and pulled out food for all three of us. It dawned on me that she had to get up really early and prepare food to bring with her. Running to Dunkin Donuts was not an option for her or for most Hondurans.
She had wrapped the food in foil. I opened mine to discover a nice, still warm, tortilla filled with eggs, beans and bologna. I began to realize the tortillas were probably made before she filled them. But I also nearly died. I do not eat bologna. Ever. Under any circumstance. But I would have died before I hurt Elvia's feelings. I was already humbled that she had brought food for me. I began to say gracias, gracias. I bowed my head and shut my eyes. I am sure she was thinking I was thanking God for my food. I was, but I was also desparately praying that I could get this down without gagging. I more or less swallowed the bologna.
I am trying to be culturally aware and culturally sensitive in a culture that is so different from mine. At times I think I am doing pretty good. I did not feel very culturally sensitive at that moment. I never ever thought about someone having to get up and prepare food and pack it so they would have something to eat in between two blood tests.
As we sat and ate and visited for two hours, I learned many lessons from Elvia. I hope I never reach the point where I quit learning from the Hondurans, whom I love so much.
Terri
2 comments:
Dear Terri,
When I was a kid our family ate bologna every time we had a sandwich..that was a given as we could not afford ham to make sandwiches...i don't recall eating peanut butter and jelly much either..we had peanut butter but little jelly and jelly was saved for toast. My brothers use to eat onion sandwiches to keep from eating bologna. They would put catsup on the onion and eat a onion sandwich. When we first got married we ate bologna sandwiches. Couldn't afford ham but sometimes we ate spam sandwiches. It has been years since I bought a pack of bologna because i too cringe at the thought of eating bologna. I would rather eat a spinach sandwich than eat bologna and i hate cooked spinach.
I say all this to say that I can relate.
But when you are hungry I guess anything taste good. Sometimes frying bologna makes it taste better.
You are really sweet to choke down bologna just so you didn't hurt Elvira's feelings. What caused the fainting spell? Let me know blood work results.
Love, Ginger
Terri,
I meant to type Elvia 's name correctly. Sorry. Love, Ginger
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