23 May 1994
Nobody likes it when others laugh at them, or think of them as “unmanly.” In our foolish pride (is their any other kind?) we set out each day to “prove ourselves” to a world that does not even know we exist.
Oh vainglorious pride!
Oh the pains we inflict upon ourselves!
This morning, Elder Rowley and I stopped into a colmado for a cool beverage and a banana. As we stepped into the store we interrupted a conversation…ABOUT ME. I had gained a reputation in the small town of Las Matas de Farfán for my love of the picante (#). There at the counter four men had gathered to talk of the "gringo' who ate picante," and my walking in at that precise moment proved a dream come true for them. Instantly they came down on me: could I eat the ají piquenó?
Could I eat the ají piquenó? I scoffed at the challenge. I can eat anything hot that this island has to offer. Not that it wouldn’t hurt…but I can eat it. So I quickly puffed out my chest, strutted my strut, and in the place of crowing gave a loud and proud “Que si!”.
I had eaten the ají piquenó before, our maid Laura had brought some in for me to try. It hurt. I won’t lie to you that little pepper had a sting that made my eyes water for a day. It hurt worse than wasabe, worse than kimshe, worse than the jabañeros of which my Tex-Mex friends are so proud. It had a thermonuclear kind of heat that I can’t describe...except to say "thermonuclear." Still, I had eaten one before and knew that I could eat one for them at this time.
The man threw down three ají piquenós on the counter.
¡TRES!
I scooped them up and calmly ate all three. I could not back down…I was the "gringo who ate picante." Quite a crowd had formed (by that I mean one old woman who wanted to buy some talapia,) and I was eager to demonstrate my manhood to a few people who didn’t really care. They just wanted to see a gringo in pain...
Oh vainglorious pride!
Oh the pains we inflict upon ourselves!
Counting myself, I impressed exactly zero people with my manliness. No one sang praises and hails to my name. Instead they laughed at me has I turned red and tried chuckle away my pain. When is it that I will learn? How much more pain will I allow myself to endure? Did I not climb that loma* searching for the respect of a bunch of teenaged boys? From that I gained nothing but physical and emotional anguish. Now I once again put myself though physical pain…and gained nothing.
My prayers are that I can learn from these experiences and leave the pride of men here in (©)Las Matas.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(#) Dominican food, though yummy in it’s own way, lacks a certain spice that I like when I eat my beans and rice.
(*) Stay tuned for an upcoming post telling the story of “La Loma”
(©) I didn’t quite leave all of it behind…some of it has stayed with me through th
e years.
Nobody likes it when others laugh at them, or think of them as “unmanly.” In our foolish pride (is their any other kind?) we set out each day to “prove ourselves” to a world that does not even know we exist.
Oh vainglorious pride!
Oh the pains we inflict upon ourselves!
This morning, Elder Rowley and I stopped into a colmado for a cool beverage and a banana. As we stepped into the store we interrupted a conversation…ABOUT ME. I had gained a reputation in the small town of Las Matas de Farfán for my love of the picante (#). There at the counter four men had gathered to talk of the "gringo' who ate picante," and my walking in at that precise moment proved a dream come true for them. Instantly they came down on me: could I eat the ají piquenó?
Could I eat the ají piquenó? I scoffed at the challenge. I can eat anything hot that this island has to offer. Not that it wouldn’t hurt…but I can eat it. So I quickly puffed out my chest, strutted my strut, and in the place of crowing gave a loud and proud “Que si!”.
I had eaten the ají piquenó before, our maid Laura had brought some in for me to try. It hurt. I won’t lie to you that little pepper had a sting that made my eyes water for a day. It hurt worse than wasabe, worse than kimshe, worse than the jabañeros of which my Tex-Mex friends are so proud. It had a thermonuclear kind of heat that I can’t describe...except to say "thermonuclear." Still, I had eaten one before and knew that I could eat one for them at this time.
The man threw down three ají piquenós on the counter.
¡TRES!
I scooped them up and calmly ate all three. I could not back down…I was the "gringo who ate picante." Quite a crowd had formed (by that I mean one old woman who wanted to buy some talapia,) and I was eager to demonstrate my manhood to a few people who didn’t really care. They just wanted to see a gringo in pain...
Oh vainglorious pride!
Oh the pains we inflict upon ourselves!
Counting myself, I impressed exactly zero people with my manliness. No one sang praises and hails to my name. Instead they laughed at me has I turned red and tried chuckle away my pain. When is it that I will learn? How much more pain will I allow myself to endure? Did I not climb that loma* searching for the respect of a bunch of teenaged boys? From that I gained nothing but physical and emotional anguish. Now I once again put myself though physical pain…and gained nothing.
My prayers are that I can learn from these experiences and leave the pride of men here in (©)Las Matas.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(#) Dominican food, though yummy in it’s own way, lacks a certain spice that I like when I eat my beans and rice.
(*) Stay tuned for an upcoming post telling the story of “La Loma”
(©) I didn’t quite leave all of it behind…some of it has stayed with me through th
e years.
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