Week Poetry and Broccoli

In my favorite movie of all time, Drop Dead Fred, Fred, the main character’s childhood imaginary friend asks her (I’m not sure the first two lines are direct quotes):

Fred: Snotface, what’s wrong?
Elizabeth:Nothing.
Fred: You just put a piece of broccoli in your mouth and said, "Mm, what a lovely piece of broccoli."

I thought of this while sitting at a retreat for my village Parish Youth Ministry (quite another story). Earlier that day I was having trouble putting my feelings into words. On the bus ride up I thought, “Why don’t I write a poem, isn’t that how people share emotions?” So I wrote a poem. Not as an assignment, not as part of a funny birthday card, as a legitimate outlet for my emotions. What a lovely piece of broccoli.

Before I joined the Peace Corps I wondered if this would happen. I read a book by a volunteer in Africa filled with poetry. I thought, do people start writing poetry once they join Peace Corps or do all the people who join the Peace Corps already write poetry? I never got an answer.

Please don’t interpret this to mean that I have something against poetry or broccoli. I like both of them. In fact one day recently I almost bought broccoli at the grocery store for $30 a pound because I missed it so much. Then the (choose the best answer: environmentally, locally minded volunteer OR ethnic/religious stereotype) in me chose the $5 a pound locally grown cabbage.

I just never had the urge to write poetry before. It has crossed my mind to share my feelings through poetry exactly zero times. At least it answered my question: being a Peace Corps makes you want to write poetry.

Headline News: Ben is arriving in Dominica on Saturday afternoon. I am beyond excited. He is going up to the garden and hopefully out fishing with a real, live Caribbean fisherman.

Dominican Phrase Book: Directions. Most directions involve “so”. Make sure you attach it to the end of any statement in which you are giving directions.

Erin: Excuse me, where’s the hot sauce?
Store clerk: (points down the aisle) Over so.

Erin: Where does Mister stay?
Guy sitting on the side of the road: (motions with his head up the road) Up de road so.

Erin: Where’s the bus stop?
Old lady cutting her front lawn with a cutlass: You will find. Keeping going down so.

You (when you come to visit): Where’s the white lady staying?
(Hopefully) Anyone in my village: Just so.

Next time