Every week sometime around Thursday I ask Uncle Byron for ideas for an exciting, adventurous tale for my weekly blog post for you boys. Sometimes I already have an idea and just run it by him. Sometimes I can't quite remember some event and get him to fill in the gaps. Other times I tell him what I've been thinking of for a sort of affirmation or pat on the back - like asking for a compliment. Then he'll say something like - Oh, now that's a good idea.
Today when I told Uncle Byron that I was going to write about the vegetable called chu chu, he laughed and said he thought my posts were supposed to be adventurous. Apparently he doesn't think that a funny, shaped green squashy looking thing could make for an exciting tale. I'll let you decide that at the end of my story. You can be honest with you and leave an opinion in the comments section with your mother's permission, of course.
Today's story goes back to my first year of missionary service in Brazil. Uncle Byron and I arrived in August of 1994 and started teaching right away at the MK school called Fortaleza Academy. We lived for the first 9 weeks of school in the missionary guest house on the same compound as the school and a dormitory for students. We also started language training right away.
Now Uncle Byron knew a lot of Portuguese from his time in Brazil as a teenager. His parents came to the field when he was about15 years old. He still had to go through some language training. Actually he took a test to evaluate his fluency. Fluency is how well you can actually converse and understand in language. But, by the time the language learning coordinator got around to grading his test he was almost all finished with the lessons!
I had to start from ground zero so to speak. I had learned how to count. I could ask simple questions and could even respond to some. But my vocabulary and understanding were limited. My best pal in our new community was Karen. She's on the far left of the photo above. She was a short term teacher at the MK school and was actually staying the whole year in one of the room's of the guesthouse.
We did a lot of shopping together and one of our favorite places to go was the Japanese Market. It was a fruit and vegetable store with some grocery items. Neither of us had a car and it was only about four or five blocks from the school there in downtown Fortaleza. It was run by actual Japanese immigrants. The owners and clerks were all very nice to us.
One day after classes we decided to go buy some vegetables and fruits. Karen was a little more daring than I was when it came to experimenting with unknown items. I was probably afraid of spending money on something that might not taste good. Uncle Byron and I didn't have much support so we had to be very careful with every centavo (penny).
On the particular day in mind when we went into the store we saw a sign that said CHU CHÚ - GRÁTIS - 10 POR CLIENTE. As we were staring at the poster, an older man came up and starting counting out loud - um, dois, três... as he picked up the funny green vegetables one by one and put them in his cart. He must have sensed that we had both stopped looking at the sign and were now staring at him. He asked if we spoke Portuguese - Falam portugues? We must not have answered very well! He pointed at the sign and read it out loud and held up 10 fingers. I thought I understood the grátis part but my funny face had more to do with what the thing might be good for. In English I think I said something to that effect. He started making Mmm good noises and said - Mmm, bom em sopas! Sopa? I asked. Mmm, sopa, sim. He said, and then made a slurp noise like someone eating soup. Ah, obrigada! We said.
Then we both counted out our ten free chu chus, ten for me and ten for Karen. They got really heavy on the five block trip back to the school - heavier and heavier. When we got back to the guesthouse and gave them a good look, they were ugly and a little prickly. When you tried to cut them, they got slimy feeling. We weren't too sure how to turn these little green thing-a-ma-bobs into Mm, mm good soup...
We ate a lot of soup, cooked chu chu, chopped chu chu, chu chu salad, and chu chu lasagna. I think they were multiplying in the dark recesses of the bottom of the refrigerator. And the next time we saw a sign that said GRÁTIS, we didn't stop to hover too long and we didn't run home happily with ten each. We learned our lesson.
Chu chu in English is called chayote. It doesn't really have a lot of taste. Later I learned that it goes well in a potato salad with other vegetables to add some flavor. Maybe you can look for some the next time you go to the grocery store with your mother. I can almost guess they will be expensive and not free. Here we didn't know it but they are considered a poor man's potato. Here's a link to how to cook your chu chu soup if you happen to find one. But don't be convinced to buy ten the first time!
Today when I told Uncle Byron that I was going to write about the vegetable called chu chu, he laughed and said he thought my posts were supposed to be adventurous. Apparently he doesn't think that a funny, shaped green squashy looking thing could make for an exciting tale. I'll let you decide that at the end of my story. You can be honest with you and leave an opinion in the comments section with your mother's permission, of course.
Today's story goes back to my first year of missionary service in Brazil. Uncle Byron and I arrived in August of 1994 and started teaching right away at the MK school called Fortaleza Academy. We lived for the first 9 weeks of school in the missionary guest house on the same compound as the school and a dormitory for students. We also started language training right away.
Now Uncle Byron knew a lot of Portuguese from his time in Brazil as a teenager. His parents came to the field when he was about15 years old. He still had to go through some language training. Actually he took a test to evaluate his fluency. Fluency is how well you can actually converse and understand in language. But, by the time the language learning coordinator got around to grading his test he was almost all finished with the lessons!
I had to start from ground zero so to speak. I had learned how to count. I could ask simple questions and could even respond to some. But my vocabulary and understanding were limited. My best pal in our new community was Karen. She's on the far left of the photo above. She was a short term teacher at the MK school and was actually staying the whole year in one of the room's of the guesthouse.
We did a lot of shopping together and one of our favorite places to go was the Japanese Market. It was a fruit and vegetable store with some grocery items. Neither of us had a car and it was only about four or five blocks from the school there in downtown Fortaleza. It was run by actual Japanese immigrants. The owners and clerks were all very nice to us.
One day after classes we decided to go buy some vegetables and fruits. Karen was a little more daring than I was when it came to experimenting with unknown items. I was probably afraid of spending money on something that might not taste good. Uncle Byron and I didn't have much support so we had to be very careful with every centavo (penny).
On the particular day in mind when we went into the store we saw a sign that said CHU CHÚ - GRÁTIS - 10 POR CLIENTE. As we were staring at the poster, an older man came up and starting counting out loud - um, dois, três... as he picked up the funny green vegetables one by one and put them in his cart. He must have sensed that we had both stopped looking at the sign and were now staring at him. He asked if we spoke Portuguese - Falam portugues? We must not have answered very well! He pointed at the sign and read it out loud and held up 10 fingers. I thought I understood the grátis part but my funny face had more to do with what the thing might be good for. In English I think I said something to that effect. He started making Mmm good noises and said - Mmm, bom em sopas! Sopa? I asked. Mmm, sopa, sim. He said, and then made a slurp noise like someone eating soup. Ah, obrigada! We said.
Then we both counted out our ten free chu chus, ten for me and ten for Karen. They got really heavy on the five block trip back to the school - heavier and heavier. When we got back to the guesthouse and gave them a good look, they were ugly and a little prickly. When you tried to cut them, they got slimy feeling. We weren't too sure how to turn these little green thing-a-ma-bobs into Mm, mm good soup...
We ate a lot of soup, cooked chu chu, chopped chu chu, chu chu salad, and chu chu lasagna. I think they were multiplying in the dark recesses of the bottom of the refrigerator. And the next time we saw a sign that said GRÁTIS, we didn't stop to hover too long and we didn't run home happily with ten each. We learned our lesson.
Chu chu in English is called chayote. It doesn't really have a lot of taste. Later I learned that it goes well in a potato salad with other vegetables to add some flavor. Maybe you can look for some the next time you go to the grocery store with your mother. I can almost guess they will be expensive and not free. Here we didn't know it but they are considered a poor man's potato. Here's a link to how to cook your chu chu soup if you happen to find one. But don't be convinced to buy ten the first time!
Think I will forego the chu chu ... Good hearing from you.
ReplyDeleteKeep up the good news.
Marshall Twiddy
Thank you, Mr. Twiddy! Praying for you!
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