El Salvador: Dena laid the plate on the table. The white slices were piled on, each slice containing a handful of small, white seeds. Everyone questioned what it was. “I’m brave,” I thought. “I’m up for trying anything new.” I grabbed a slice and took a bite. It was hard and crunchy; semi-sweet yet tart, and the seeds were jaw-breaking. The team had mixed reviews. I, however, liked it. Smothered in lime, I’d eat them for a snack any day!
Dena said it was “Guava”. Many people, however, didn’t think it was.
Guatemala: “I really want guava”, I said to my team, after not seeing it as part of our daily meals. The debate continued about if our green fruit was guava or not. Oriolyne chimed in, “Guava is a small, green pear-shaped fruit that smells sweet; when you bite, its pink in the middle with white seeds.” Well, that just confused our team more. “That sounds similar to what we had, just smaller; I still think ours is a type of guava.”
I was brave. I decided to walk to the outdoor market. I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for, but I knew the general look of the fruit. And there it was!! I walked up to the lady to confirm. “Que es?” I asked, pointing to the large, green, pear-shaped fruit. She mumbled a word, but it sounded like “Guava”. A guy, who was confident in his partial-English, came to assist. I asked him if the fruit was guava. “Si,” he said.
“Bien, cuanto cuesta?” To my surprise, it was 5 fruits for 4 Quetzales, which is about 50 cents. “Hallelujah,” I thought. I bought 5.
I arrived home and went straight to the kitchen. I took the knife and attempted to cut the fruit. It was like cutting squash. The outside was VERY FIBROUS. “Hmmm,” I thought. I cut the fruit in half. It was white inside, but there was one large “seed”—a darkened, more fibrous part of the mystery food. I don’t think this is guava. I covered it in lime and gnawed it down anyway–as much as my jaw could break it down.
The next day, I took the green Unknown to Logan and asked him what it was. He mumbled a word that sounded NOTHING like guava!!! He explained that it is a type of squash that Sandra boils and puts in the soups. “It’s only eaten after being boiled.” Oops, I thought. “Well, I ate them raw.” He laughed. He took the rest of them to Sandra. Words were exchanged; he pointed at me, and Sandra erupted into a belly laugh. “Yep, Jessica did that!” I shouted across the room.
For the rest of the month, I was unsuccessful in finding guava. However, the morning we left, Sandra arrived and placed two green fruits in front of me. “Guava,” she said, chuckling. “Really?” I squealed, “Thank you thank you thank you!” I jumped up and gave her a hug. She grabbed a knife, and I added this addition to my breakfast—and let me tell you, I enjoyed every bite of crunchiness!! And yes, it was what we had in El Salvador.
Honduras: A week after arriving, I tried finding guava at the local tienda, but soon learned that it’s not something they sell here. I was disappointed. A few days later, Pastor Gregorio walks up to the table. He places a tiny, green fruit on the table. “Guyava” he said. “Guava?” I exclaimed. “Guuuuuyabbbbba” he enunciated. (Americans call it “Guava”, but it’s the same) I took a bite—It had a softer, green outside; the inside was a soft pink fruit intermingled with tiny, white seeds. The flavor was slightly sweeter than the guava I’ve come to know and love, but it was very satisfying.
It turns out that Pastor Gregorio’s sister-in-law, who lives next door, has a guava tree. I went in search of more fruit—only to find a few fruits were scattered across the TOP branches, outside of human reach.
On Monday, we spent the afternoon at the Immigration office (which so happened to be located inside a mall) to fix some passport issues. I didn’t feel well; I was exhausted. The passport process was halted due to a 2-hour lunch break by the staff!!! Our team decided to roam the mall in search of lunch for ourselves. Nothing sounded good. I went to the fruit isle, and THERE IT WAS!!!! Guava—the ones from El Salvador!
I bought 1, as well as papaya and banana for lunch. Out of habit, I saved the best for last; unfortunately, I was full after the papaya.
The next day, I decided to eat it. I took it from the fridge, rinsed it with water, and was about to take a bite…
But I stopped.
I ran inside, cut the fruit up, and brought it out for the team. I took a bite —and it was heaven. It was soft with hard seeds—not jaw-breaking though—and the flavor was similar to an apple-pear mix. It was SOOOO GOOOD!!! “So this is what it tastes like when they are ripe,” I said. The rest of the team, while having mixed feelings about it before, loved it!
I sat and enjoyed every piece. With every bite, I thanked God for His little gift.
“Sometimes, you aren’t patient enough to wait for My timing; you choose to eat the fruit when it isn’t quite ripe. If you choose to wait, you won’t just enjoy “good fruit”; instead, you will be blessed with delicious, sweet, refreshing fruit!”
