Self-Study through Daily Sustenance
(excerpt)
to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days
—Li Young Lee
While in Michigan, I make it a habit to invite friends over for dinner. I enjoy experimenting with the miscellany of ingredients in the fridge. Measurements from this country still con- fuse me. But instead of forcing myself to translate kilos into pounds and vice versa, I choose to trust my hands, their memory of weight. My friends, one from Honduras, another from Guatemala and Korea, say my cooking reminds them of their homes somehow. Our hearts are their own stomachs; they fill with every spoonful we take.
*
For me, a sickly child, my mother prepares a warm bowl of congee, sprinkles it with shredded chicken and sesame seeds. From across the table, she watches me take one careful mouthful of soft rice at a time, barely restraining liquid snot with whatever strength I have left in my nostrils. My mother says she likes watching how each bite makes moons rise out of my eyes.
*
After a round of pulling at each other’s hair for a trivial reason, I approach my sister with a split apple in hand— in Korean, the sound of the word apple, sagwa1, also meaning to ask for forgiveness. We bite into the fruit and reconcile. I’m reminded forgiveness is something you can sink your teeth into, can limn what’s sharp with honey.
1 Maracuyá. Passion
fruit. Perilla.
Kkaennip. Lúcuma.
See
how they wreathe
my tongue,
how their sounds
wet my mouth
with hunger.
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