Topic: Dream
For the first time – I think in my life – it was staged in Casuarinas, Peru, in my Grandmother’s house. I think I was just a bit younger – say, 23. I was with my uncles, who were only slightly older than I, say, 27, 28 (the age that I am now).
We were three in the house, my uncle Jimmy, and one more who was a bit anonymous, but I know he was family. I suppose by process of elimination it was my uncle Cesar. The house was otherwise empty. My memory of the dream only goes halfway back into it. I had already made a big Chinese stir-fry. It was a sweet/sour orange and black pepper sauce, and I used lost of different brightly coloured vegetables. I remember most clearly the green and red peppers.
We were quite hungry. Since it was just the three men in the house, and my uncles didn’t cook, I was given the duty. I went to the fridge and it was a chaotic pile of pots and pans and barely plastic-covered leftovers. The stir-fry I had made the day before was piled into some 4 or 5 different containers and stacked into the fridge such that it looked like a heap. My perspective was so tight on the food it almost seemed I was in the fridge with it and it stretched on for ages, like a mountain range.
I said I would make the leftovers, and add meat. My sister Joanna was there too during this discussion, and she had already made herself a big bowl of Chef Boyardee Ravioli, so I was just cooking for tree. I had to keep returning to the fridge during the conversation to check the possibilities
There were two frozen pieces of meat, and I remember that Jimmy was very sceptical they’d be defrosted in time. I had to write something with my finger in the frost on the side of one piece (both were wedge-cut, like pieces of cake, or cheese). I wrote 3 letters on one side of the wedge, and three on the other. I can’t remember what I wrote! S a o l k … dunno. I think it was something personal like a name. When I wrote it, I was able to come back and say we’d eat the two pieces, and I’d use a bunch of the vegetables from the day before. I brought two pots from the fridge to put on the table so they could check the sauce for quality.
This whole discussion was happening on a kitchen table, the layout wasn’t quite right. There was the table, then the kitchen, then the offices, and there was no hallway like in my grandmother’s house before you got to the offices.
When I brought the food, there was rice in it that had dried to being nearly inedible. I apologized for this and remembered the rice my father would leave in the fridge until it dried out. I asked them to eat the least dry bits. They eat with their fingers, and approved the sauce. We agreed we’d share the two wedges of meat (one was chicken and one fish I think) although it wouldn’t be much. This is when I asked Jo if she wanted any and she said she was ok. I was relieved.
I got to work, and loaded a wok with the meat and just a few vegetables. I was to add more later for some reason. At this point, the other men were in the offices working, and somehow 3 Peruvian girls showed up on the scene. I think they were the three girls I went dancing with in Iquitos. They were definitely love-interests, and I spent a long time with them chatting in different parts of the house. It’s a bit of a blur, but I remember I returned with them to the kitchen and the oil had burned black, and the food was still cooking away in it.
The food was relatively undamaged, but the smell wasn’t great, and news somehow got to my uncles. They began to chastise me with that brand of venom that my eldest brother and other Peruvians use to let you know you’re an idiot. If you’ve not experienced it it’s an essay in itself to explain...
Then my alarm went off; Time to get everyone up and make them banana-chocolate pancakes. I hope I don’t burn them!
