Foodie Friday

My long story about Repetition triggered another story about pancakes. Like many of you, pancakes have become a Saturday tradition. For me, pancakes are just another reminder that we are strangers and aliens here.

Not so many years ago, it finally dawned on me that pancakes are "foreign food" to the indigenous people here. Probably the Quiche Indians in Guatemala were equally clueless, but merely followed Jim's example in eating them. Who knows if they liked them or not.

One Saturday, Jim and his then-coworker, Eutiquio, were observing a fast. I served some visitors from a village the usual Saturday breakfast: a plate of pancakes with a pitcher of homemade "Log Cabin." Little did I realize that Jim and Eutiquio left our guests to eat by themselves while they went back into the office for prayer. When Jim returned to clear the dishes, the guys made a comment that the tortillas were too dry, and the drink was WAY too sweet to drink.

Okay, so for all those years, I had been serving my famous freshly-ground whole wheat pancakes, thinking they were a treat, and people were just gagging them down without appreciating them? Oh, bother!

Another time, back when we lived in a Mam Indian village in Guatemala, I served homemade pizza to our language helpers. That time it was obvious they were merely appeasing us, and not remotely appreciating all the effort that went into making them.

"Different" is not always good, as our short-term teams will agree. Now I know how our local Mexican hostesses must feel when our American visitors politely force down tamales and other delicacies that took a lot of time and effort to prepare.

(Foodie Friday is a borrowed term from a friend who blogs about food every Friday. I'm not sure I'll make a weekly habit of this, but since it happens to be Friday, I thought I'd give it a try this week.)