I was driving down the street the other day when I saw a coqui. That’s an odd thing to see just outside of Joliet, Illinois. The coqui is a Puerto Rican tree frog that survives only in tropical environments. If you’ve been to Illinois, you know it’s FAR from the tropics. Now, when I was a kid, they used to tell us that the coqui cannot live anywhere but the island of Puerto Rico. Puerto Ricans love their little frog, and it’s distinctive sing-song call fills the night air.
Unfortunately, the coqui immigrated to Hawaii. They multiplied like rabbits on the Australian outback. They hate them there. Me…I’d love to sit out on my porch on a warm August evening and listen to the song of the coqui. Must be a Caribbean thing.
Anyway, so I saw this coqui, and it was on a sign that said, “Coqui To Go.” Under that there was a banner that said, “Grand Opening.” Now, I’ve waited for YEARS to have a Puerto Rican restaurant close to me, and this one fits the description. It’s FIVE MINUTES close. OK, maybe eight minutes. So, naturally, when I saw the place, I called my parents, let them know about it, and then did the only reasonable thing: I stepped inside.
Let me tell you, the smell of alcapurrias and pasteles and tostones and lechón is like olfactory crack to any Puerto Rican. Once you get that whiff, you are absolutely done for. Just roll the wheel barrow over because I’m gonna need some help getting out of here.
Oh…snap. I’m a vegetarian.
The end to this very sad tale is that I walked out of there with one order of what turned out to be exquisite and delicious tostones. I skipped the white rice. Figured I could make my own at home. Everything else that was not explicitly fish, shrimp, or steak had some form of pig in it. Bacon. Pork chops. Pig fat. Seriously. She told me, “The arroz con gandules has pig fat.” That’s what she said. I believe her. It probably tastes awesome. It was the first time I felt temptation of that kind enter my bones.
Tonight, as I sat here remembering that moment and writing about it, I thought about another recent moment I shared with a hummingbird, a colibri. When I was in Tahoe, I sat all by myself out on the deck of the cabin at which we stayed. On one occasion, I noticed a hummingbird feeder, and within five minutes, there was a hummingbird at the feeder. In my family, the hummingbird, or colibri, is a special animal. It has meaning to us. Sitting there in the presence of that little bird was special to me. It was a sign that I was communing, as I had hoped, with nature, with the Universe, in a way that transcended my normal daily experience. Other things happened to solidify that feeling, but the hummingbird was one of those experiences early on that served to draw me into the natural wonders around me.
I can remember how much I enjoyed my Puerto Rican food back in the day, and I can remember how much being a vegetarian makes me feel close to nature. It’s completely subjective. It’s probably pretty illogical for some. But for me, it makes sense; it fits. The way I see it, a coqui, a colibri, and a Vegi Rican can coexist quite peaceful, neither having anything to fear from the other. I like the way that works out.
Illuminate Possibilities 