Food For Thought

Boston, Mass.
During this trip we have broken bread with many amazing people and shared fantastic experiences in doing so. While all of these have been rewarding I have not decided to blog about them as the “American experience meal.” Today however, I had that meal. I realized that for me this meal was not about the kind of food I consumed, but rather the environment and the meaning that I gained from it. This took place in Little Italy here in Boston. Cory and I went and ate at Café Pompei. The food was not amazing but the setting made it so much better. We sat across from the Freedom Trail and were surrounded by a charming mix of natives and tourist.
Being on the street just people watching was delightful for all of my senses. I could smell the food, the street, and even the people as pleasant and unpleasant that can be. I saw the families that were filled with diversity of age and appearance. Also there was a beautiful backdrop for all of this to take place around. The buildings were all so very old. At one point Cory and I even considered all the stories that had been lived out within them. How fascinating. So many stories, thoughts, emotions, and occurrences take place around us with such little acknowledgment, if any.
I could feel the slight coolness mixed with the heat and the thud that occurred every time someone stepped on the metal grate under my chair. The sounds were a feast for anyone’s ears. The variety of languages, laughter, horns honking, and even the light panting of the passing dogs. Such little and insignificant things, but all were incredibly important because each one was essential to the weaving of the fabric of this special and unique experience that I had.
I think that this is reflected to the larger image of what America is. We have many stories; not just one from a specific ethnic group. Instead one for each and every person. Sometimes they are not heard, respected, or recognized in society, but they are still very much a part of what America is.
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