About a week ago we invited an Ecuadorian friend and her daughter over for an American dinner at our house. I decided to make bar-b-q sandwiches out of a large piece of beef tenderloin that I'd kept in the crock pot for nearly 24 hours. We bought fresh buns, cut up a pineapple, sliced cucumbers, steamed cauliflower, and Doug created a fresh batch of home-made salsa. Then we did as all good Americans do and put every condiment known to man on the table: mayonnaise, two kinds of mustard, ketchup, jalapeno sauce, three kinds of bar-b-q sauce, salad dressing, Lowrey's Seasoning, Morton's Kosher Salt, Tabasco, black pepper, garlic, and probably a few other things I've forgotten by now. We had more options for seasoning than for food. It was a bit of overkill but we wanted to introduce them both to the promised land.
So, true to Ecuadorian form, my sweet friend showed up to dinner half an hour later than expected. Thankfully, true to Thompson form, I didn't have dinner completely ready at the appointed time and appreciated the extra few minutes. All parties were therefore quite happy about the arrangement. When we finally sat down to the table and re-introductions were completed, both Nelly and her daughter Daniella ate more than their fair share of food and were complimentary about it all. Ecuadorians are the best hosts and the best guests.
All through dinner we each put our Spanish skills to use and had a very lively and enjoyable conversation. I really didn't have to translate very much and we had to bring Doug up to speed only every once in a while. I was proud of our kids for trying their best to welcome this friend of mine, and proud of my husband for suggesting this dinner invitation. It ended up being way easier than I had predicted.
After dinner we introduced them to two of our favorite card games knowing that language would not be a barrier during either. We played Dutch Blitz with them (which is kind of like playing Solitare but with others playing on your cards and you on theirs) and did our best to keep the game really slow so they would not be overwhelmed by the speed of play. Once we did a few hands of that, we then brought out the big guns and played Pit. If you've ever played Pit, you know it can be obnoxiously loud and fun. We did our best to break them in slowly before getting too rambunctious but then after a few hands we let it all hang out. We were laughing hard before too long and when Nelly said it was time for them to go, eleven year old Daniella was sorely disappointed and wanted to play just one more hand.
The whole night was a really sweet affair--what stood out though and will stick with me the most was the way in which Nelly's face lit up when I gave her the tour of our little house (1000 square feet) with it's painted cinderblock walls and write tile floors. To us it's a real downgrade from our home in the states, but to Nelly who lives in a one-room apartment up on the roof of an apartment building, it's a mansion. Nelly's bathroom is not connected to her little home. She has to walk outside to reach it. She does her laundry in a sink on the roof as she looks down on the people below. Then she hangs her laundry out to dry on one of the many clothes lines that hang across the length of the flat roof. And, her place only has room enough for a double bed, stove, small fridge, table, and a clothes rack--there's not even a closet. The place she and Daniella live in is approximately the size of our master bedroom here. So, when I gave my dear friend the tour, she thought I lived in luxury--and when I thought about the tour she gave me when I visited her at home a couple of months ago--I knew she was right.
We are blessed beyond measure.
Thanks for reading.
Blessings, kim
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