Rosalie CP #6: Key Lime Pie, Corn on the Cob, and an Impromptu Piano Recital

September 20, 2013

            My parents and I had planned to invite my partners over for dinner, and last night was the night. I live almost half an hour away from campus, so Mehmas graciously drove the three of them over to me so I didn’t have to pick them up. They arrived at 6 instead of 5, but it could have been a miscommunication: does “dinner at 5” mean leave your house at 5 or be there at 5? Also, they probably didn’t realize how long it takes to get out here. It was no problem at all. I was excited to see them piling of out of Mehmas’ SUV.

Key Lime Pie in Progress

            They learned a new word—ants—when Mehmas stepped in an ant hill, poor thing. We got inside without further mishaps. I noticed my partners were pretty shy, hesitating in the front hall. I introduced them to my parents, and everyone shook hands. We ushered them to sit in our kitchen, and everyone got more comfortable chatting around the table. My parents did an admirable job slowing their speech and annunciating, and they were able to converse with minimal confusion. I come from a family of expressive people, so we know where I get it from. I looked over to see my mom explaining how she hated cooking growing up. “The kitchen was evil—bad!” she exclaimed, crossing her eyes and making a face of disgust. My partners laughed. They were very much at ease, and Isabella even told me, “Today, I was sad. But now, here, I am happy.”

Luis' Meringue Masterpiece

            Our project for the evening was making key lime pie. Luis inspired me by ordering a slice the day we went to the beach. He had told me that, though he had tried it before in Mexico, it didn’t taste fresh from all the preservatives. I promised him I would teach him to make it, and he lit up when I reminded him. Everyone helped, especially the boys. Isabella got into an involved conversation about cities in Brazil, including Belo Horizonte (her city) and Brasilia (the capital). Luis read us the ingredients, and I presented each one as he read. Mehmas was confused about the can of sweetened condensed milk. “Eagle?” he asked me.

            “Oh, that’s the brand!” I told him, and we laughed. Luis measured the key lime juice. Mehmas poured in the milk. I worked on separating the yolks from the egg whites to use in the pie, mixing them once. I learned recently that if any bit of yolk gets into the whites, the protein in it won’t allow the meringue to form peaks. Mehmas learned to operate the electric mixer and taught Luis. It was a team effort! We made the meringue as well; Luis valiantly beat the egg whites the whole time, while Isabella added the sugar. Luis swirled the meringue in a spiral pattern, and we put the pie in the oven.

            My friends were curious about my backyard, especially the relic of our childhood, the playset. Before I knew it, all three were gleefully swinging. As I took a picture, Mehmas got concerned. “Wait, wait! There’s a…” he said, agitatedly gesturing at the top of the swing. As I got closer, I could see that the bolt was mostly out of the wood that attached one side of the chain.

“Isabella, he’s right! Be careful!”

“No, no, I jump,” she said, unconcerned. She promptly jumped and didn’t understand until we showed her the loose bolt. I’m glad we narrowly avoided an injury.

Mehmas wanted to know if we had any pits. “What?” I asked.

“P-e-t-s!” he said.

“Ohhhh, pets!” He smiled when I understood. “Yes, I  have two dogs. Do you want to meet them?”

My partners chorused their assent. The dogs came out, and everyone was friendly. Luis was the most timid, as he never owned a pet. “Are they big?” he wanted to know. And everyone wanted to know, “Do they…?” as they mimed biting with their hands. Luckily, they don’t, and my partners and my dogs enjoyed meeting and the subsequent petting.

My dad fired up the grill and came to take orders. Everyone wanted a hamburger except for me. “I don’t like choose,” Isabella confided. “I just have what they have.” I completely understand her. Decision-making is always tough when you’re a guest, and doubly hard if it’s a foreign country and language!

We trooped in to eat, and my partners were intrigued by the corn on the cob. “I never had before,” Luis told me. I showed them how you can roll it in the butter, and they were impressed. It was a hit. The burgers also went over well. My parents ate with us, and they kept the conversation lively. They spoke more with Luis and Mehmas, as they have a higher level of conversational English, while I spoke more with Isabella. Isabella explained to me that she is frustrated with her inability to communicate. “I meet many cool peoples in my class, but I don’t meet them very much.” In Portuguese as well as Spanish, the verb conocer means to meet as well as to know, but of course in English we have two separate verbs. I took the chance to explain this to Isabella. “Ah, then I don’t know them very well,” she said, smiling with relief at expressing herself. Poor thing! She’s still limited in her ability to talk freely with people, and so she can’t get to know anyone outside of the Brazilians in depth.

“What is food like in Kuwait?” my parents wanted to know.

“You know Samurat?” Mehmas asked. Turns out they do know that Indian restaurant. “Is like that,” he concluded. He seemed much more comfortable than he had at the beginning, laughing and joking with my parents.

“No restaurant here from Kuwait!” my dad said, laughing. “Sorry!”

Mehmas retorted, “In my apartment! In my apartment we have restaurant from Kuwait!” They both laughed.

My mother asked if we were going to go swimming. “I can’t,” Isabella said.

“Oh,” my mother said, exchanging a knowing look with Isabella.

“She understands!” Isabella said. She had told me that earlier, when Mehmas wanted to know why she couldn’t swim, she explained it to him. I taught her the word period but had to wonder how she managed to explain it to him without the terms.

“I told him, women have a time…every month, and then he understood.” As we recapped the episode, Mehmas closed his eyes and looked away. He was clearly embarrassed, while Isabella was unperturbed.

“My life is a book that is open!” she proclaimed. “That is a Brazilian expression.” Of course, I told her we have a very similar one. “I am an open book!” she repeated proudly. “I have no secrets. Just tell everything.”

Our key lime pie! 

The key lime pie came out of the oven, and it was beautiful. The meringue was toasted on the peaks, and Luis’ spiral design was clear. We ate it warm, and everyone approved.

After dinner, it came up that Luis plays piano as well as dances. We requested that he play, and he graciously obliged. We gathered (along with my mom) in the living room to listen to him. He plays beautifully. He played the Transformers theme, as well as a classical Mexican composition and the song from Twilight. “I learned that for my girlfriend. You know the song that the vampire plays on the piano?” It was a joy to hear him, and we applauded after every song.

We sat around chatting for a time after, and Luis recounted a dance battle he had at the last Downtown Get-Down. I guess he was shy at first but ended up having a great time. “Dance now!” Mehmas said.

“No,” Luis shook his head, “but I show you a video I did on Youtube.” It was filmed in the streets and subways of New York City. That boy can dance! He is very fluid, making his arms look like they’re transmitting a wave, but he can also seem jointed and robotic when he wants. I loved how disinterested the folks on the subway were. I’m sure they see crazier things than a Mexican guy dancing hiphop in the aisle.

The only time that I was surprised and uncomfortable was when my friends were leaving. I don’t blame them because I’m sure it’s cultural. Everyone has their own way of being polite, and I noticed Mehmas didn’t want anyone to take his plate in for him or get him a drink. So I know it must not be rude in Kuwait to just announce, “Let’s go,” and head for the door. It made me smile because I realize now (with the contrast) that here you need to at least pretend to be sad to go and thank your host again (they all did during the dinner). We said our goodbyes and said we’d see each other again soon.

I’m so glad my partners could come over and equally glad my parents were such welcoming, warm hosts. I know my family had fun, and I think my friends did, too. I am grateful for the opportunity to show them a US family and how we interact. I’m looking forward to hanging out again!