For the first time in six weeks we had a home-cooked meal tonight and felt like human beings again. When coupled with the laundry and showers from earlier today, it felt better than Christmas....
The occasion was an informal reunion between Fabrice/Mike and a friend, Rudy Pierre, with whom he grew up in Haiti. Rudy lives with his wife Fabbi and their 10 year old son in Chelsea, an immediate suburb of Boston. She also is Haitian. Their apartment is about seven minutes from the New England Produce Co., where we were dropping part of our load of garlic. Fabrice/Mike had not seen his friends in 11 years so it was a great treat for him to visit them, and he was kind enough to invite MJM and i to join him.
Fabbi made traditional Haitian food, which featured long grain white rice with a black bean and a white bean sauce, Haitian meatballs (what makes them Haitian i do not know, but they definitely had a courser, drier consistency than traditional meatballs), boiled plantains and salad. Drinks were Coca-Cola and water. It was all delicious. Of course, to us, anything that you don't have to unwrap is delicious.
We didn't visit a lot, but they were very warm and generous.
Their small apartment is definitely in the less affluent section of town. Although i didn't see the bedrooms, i'd guess it was about 1,000 square feet in size. It was an old narrow townhouse style apartment, with a street level garage, and the apartment going up above the garage. You climb stairs up to the living quarters, which consisted of a small living/tv room, a dining area/kitchen/office, a separate sink/laundry room where Fabbi did the dishes, and presumably two bedrooms. It was very modest but cute. To us it felt palatial to be able to stretch out and not smell each other's feet the entire time. They are apparently a Christian family, based on several of the wall hangings in the living room and bathroom.
It also was nice to be around people who are not part of the "trucking" universe, and to be reminded that there is a world beyond truck stops and white lines on the road.
Stay safe everyone.... always wear your seat belt.
KWA
Woo Hoo! Which is why dad won't eat in restaurants. Truck driving cured him of that for life. Too bad for mom though:) Always had to cook. Now she does not, so dad has to. You will understand that I'm sure!!! Stay safe my friend, and yes, I always wear my seat belt.
ReplyDeleteAndrea