Tuesday, April 24, 2012

My Belizean Heritage

There is a space inside my Mom that is full and empty.
Seeping through the edges are the
faces...
songs... 
stories...
scents...
humidity...
tears...
joy...
regret...
laughter...
music...
sacrifice...
grace...
and food...
of Belize!
She's an MK (missionary kid)...
She spent several years in Belize with her parents... brother and sister. 
They ministered, evangelized and sang!
They even cut two records!  Here's the cover of one of them.
Mom's in the pink dress... Little sister Sue in the white dress... and Mickey standing behind.
My Grandmom and Grandad are seated in the middle.


Mickey, Pat and Sue were (and still are) quite the trio. 
There is nothing like blood harmony.

I love this picture... it is so... classic.


I was helping Mom edit some of her memories and stories of Belize recently and this sentence sent me on a journey.
"Beans and rice were the most common and delicious food. Of course there were several types of bananas, breadfruit,and chicken fixed with Recado, a special blend of seasonings I still crave."
Surely Recado (aka Ricardo, Recardo) could be found online. 
So... I Googled... I found... I purchased!
If you're curious and want to order your own... www.bluefield-prod.com



For Easter Grandmom coached me through the preparation of...
Belizean style beans and rice... chicken "stew" with Recado... banana and cabbage slaw
 (I know... sounds weird but it was actually one of my favorite parts of the meal)...
 and fried plantains.

She's wearing plastic gloves because the red color of the Recado spice will stain your hands! So if you handle it... you've been warned.
You take the spice (it looks sort of like a bouillon block but softer) and mix it with a little vinegar (just until it is a thick paste).


Then you rub the chicken generously with the red Recado mixture and let it sit for at least 20 minutes before throwing it into the frying pan. 
(A cast iron skillet works best Grandmom says, but we didn't have one...
so Teflon did pretty well in a pinch.)

We even got husband into the kitchen for some moments of heavy lifting.
I just love a man with a hot pad!


So what does Recado taste like? 
It's not spicy... like you might imagine judging it by it's fiery red color. 
It is more smokey... maybe paprika in nature.  I did a little research and found that it is made from the annatto seed. 
Mom says it tasted like she remembered... so mission accomplished.
It was down home and rich and the combination of all the items we put on the table was at the same time familiar... and exotic.  I liked it.  I'll make it again.

The best part though, was cooking with Grandmom. 
Listening to the stories and memories...
Reminiscing while the kitchen filled up with fragrance from another life.
Belize is a ghost for me too, certainly not in the same way as it is for those who lived there... but I feel it sometimes.  Somewhere deep in my gut... is a mutated gene inherited from Mom.  It forms the shape of a small country.  It is a warm glowing seed that I don't fully understand. I visited once when I was in college.  One of the souls they loved there... the Other Brother Wright... picked me up and showed me around.  He took me through the rooms where the Wright Family had poured out ministry and song. 


Beautiful ebony faces sang to me as if I was a princess from another land... and I wept.
I was home... and yet I was not.
This is the ache Mom feels... multiplied eternally.
It was so strange... to return to a place I had never been before.  

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

It's Snowing!

Every year...
in April... sometimes May
it snows.

It isn't North Wind... or Jack Frost who brings the white...
It isn't chilly... or cold... or even wet.
But it is this great lady which blankets my lawn with her downy offspring. 

The Texas Cottonwood.



Husband gets grumpy.
Everyone starts sneezing.
It gums up the mower.
But I always smile when I see her first fluffy refugee flying across my yard.
She is majestic... and lovely.

At times it looks as if a giant pillow fight has taken place on the grass...
bits of her pollen filling in the low places...
rolling down the roof in tiny soundless avalanches of poof.
If you look closely here... you can see them flying... little white specks... orbs... dancing free.


Littering the lawn...
Tiny puffs poised in the sunlight...
Ready to take flight with the slightest motion.

I have a co-conspirator!
A compatriot who joys in her messy shedding... delights in the simplicity of it... her pirouettes of whimsy... flecking the air with melodies of movement. 
Her daughters harmonize with the laughter of my boy. 



I don't care what anyone says... I love that tree.
And now I am not the only one.
I have swayed a Cottonwood Rebel to my side!