growing up poor in a rain forest

we are probably the poorest in our village --a small barrio in a third world country
quite unconsequential to the civilized world.
our home is of  coconut tree trunks supporting a raised bamboo floor.
the walls are woven palm tree fronds which allow the breeze to enter
as it pleases -- as do dragonflies, butterflies, geckos and mosquitoes.

we decorate our lives with leis of bromeliads and orchids -- so rare and so free.
mornings would be cool and fresh. no need to cook breakfast --
when there are jackfruit and plantain for the picking.
if you want know how these taste,
check your local "foods-from-the-rain-forest' store
and be ready to pay several  paper images of dead presidents.

how about roasted breadfruit for lunch and  perhaps leftovers
from last night's dinner of  definitely  wild and free-range chicken,
and some roasted locust ( note: you will find canned ones
in your gourmet section -- usually dipped in chocolate).

dinner menu: roast wild boar, wild fowl, catfish seviches, wild rice
and fresh palm 'wine'. salad:  heart of palm, banana blossoms
marinated in calamondin ( tastes like artichoke -- only better ).
palm hearts are now available in your local upscale supermarket.
my favorite dessert is fried bananas lit in rice wine.
i think they call it banana foster.

at night, sleep  inside a gauze mosquito net of pineapple cloth --
so fine you can see the stars peeking through the jig-saw
of canopy trees. someone strums a guitar from afar,
someone chants a love song and the rain forest joins in
with its enigmatic hum.
no electronic synthesizers, no mp3s, no ipods.

we are quite poor in the rain forest.
we do not have a penny to our name.
if you would like to help us, do not bring money.
bring salt.


z m evensen
1 sept 1993 rev  28 apr 2010