Once a week I volunteer to help students with their homework. The students are Vietnamese and are from several families living under one roof. The last count had the number of occupants in the home at 20, but I only help about five kids. Coincidentally, I happen to love Vietnamese food (see earlier post) and always smell amazing things coming from their very busy kitchen. There are usually one or two women always present with a younger helper sitting on the kitchen floor chopping piles of lemongrass or other unidentified greens and seasonings. I secretly hope to be given a take-home bag one day, but it's not my motivation for coming. Well, this week my hopes were realized. The family said they would be dropping off something special to my home. I kept thinking of those delicious pork- or beef-filled spring rolls we used to order at the restaurant. I rationalized to myself that there was no way I was going to a) tell them I was vegetarian because I thought that would be rude and presumptuous or b) throw away perfectly good--heck, amazing--spring rolls. I reasoned there is a higher value of honoring our neighbor to our concern for the treatment of animals. So, thus philosophically armed, I was ready to face-off Todd when he got home.
Well, the delivery came. I ran out to receive the bag of goodies expressing a million thank-you's. I eagerly opened the bag and, alas, it was a warm, sweet soup with rice balls injected with some form of bean paste. Not a sinew of meat in sight. Sigh. It was very delicious nonetheless.
--Nina
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