Posole

I’m guessing you wouldn’t know it by looking at me, but I’m a picky eater. Being a picky eater never really gave me any problems until last year. I was on a mission’s trip and we were going to Mexico for a month. It sounds great, and don’t get me wrong, it was but right off the bat I knew that my being picky with food and Mexico were just not going to go well together. Before the trip I told myself that since I was from New Mexico that I would have no problems at all, I was wrong, Mexico Mexican and New Mexico Mexican are two very different things.
 
The first problem came in Rio Verde Mexico, when we were eating lunch at a woman’s house. She was a member of the church we were there to help. She was a very nice woman and I remember she had on a blue dress. We ate outside her house because there were too many of us to fit inside her home, there were about three tables set up out side and all of them had two bottles of coke on them, of course. I remember it was a hot day and that I was hungry because it was a long walk to her house, so I was actually excited to eat. Once we sat down she brought out the bowls. . . of posole. I’ve had posole plenty of times and actually like it, but again… Mexico Mexican is very different from New Mexico Mexican. It seems that the whole chicken minus the feathers was some where in this food and I luckily got both the head and the feet mixed around with skin and fat. So I’ll remind you that I’m a picky eater, but I also new that it is rude to not eat what you are given and it is considered rude to not finish your plate. I looked at my friend Heather who was sitting next to me, and with blank stares we all just started to eat. I noticed things were going pretty bad for me about the time I had eaten all of the liquid part, which left me with everything I did not want to eat by itself and the fact that everyone else was done, and many people were on to their second bowl. The lady came to check on us and in her very broken English said to me “oh you don’t like?”
 
 I felt horrible, I in no way wanted to offend this woman but it was quite obvious if I didn’t finish my meal I would do just that. She went back into the kitchen where I decided that I would finish my bowl of chicken head, feet and a fat for her. To make it bearable I took each bit with a drink of coke, and well just swallowed it without chewing. It still took me a long time to finish and I was the last one done. When the woman came back outside most people were finished with there second bowl and I had some how accomplished my first. She came over to my table which was all girls and put her hand on my shoulder and said “you liked” I replied to her in Spanish very much, she smiled and that made it all worth it. The food she gave us was the only way she could thank us for being there to help out her church, what she gave us was all and even more than she had. But she feed all fifteen of us and the fact that I could make her smile by eating what I thought I could never eat made it all worth it.