Gratitude

Thanksgiving is just...well, a jump away actually, as if anyone reading this needed that reminder. I thought gratitude would be a worthy topic to discuss this week. Unfortunately, I have a bone to pick before I get to the good stuff.

For me, (and most everyone I know), gratitude boils down to good manners and the respectful way we treat people. Emily Post, the undisputed world champion of all things manner related said, “manner is personality—the outward manifestation of one’s innate character and attitude toward life.” In addition, she vehemently believed that manners could be learned if one did not happen to have any. This certainly holds true for my experience of growing up as well as living as an adult in Hawai’i.

When I was a child, relatives from town (any area outside my community) would stop in from time to time to visit with my parents. They always brought something not readily available for our eager consumption. The recognizable boxes were the first indication of what I would be feasting on for the day. Pink boxes held manapua (a meat-filled bun; char siu bao), and white boxes were filled with malasadas, a Portuguese, sugary pastry dessert. Showing up with food was widely accepted and appreciated. Excuses were never made to avoid eating something. You were grateful for the offering. Diabetic? You just ate one malasada and said thank you. Don’t like pork? You just ate the bread and gave the pork to the sibling that liked it more than the bread and said thank you.

“Showing up empty handed” to any social situation in Hawai’i (and many other places in our global community) is a big no-no. You just don’t do it. You better show up with something and 98.9% of the time, you show up with food. The Japanese tradition of gift giving or “omiyage” was introduced locally during the early plantation days and the concept seemed to weave itself into the fabric of our lives. These gifts of food are rarely presented in beautifully printed squares of fabric called “furoshiki” like they do it in Japan, but the idea is the same in that it is meant to honor the recipient who is also your host. Much effort is put into the selection of just the right omiyage to present to someone in their home or office.

On one particularly festive occasion, during the time of year when the baking of sugar cookies and gingerbread men are in full throttle, my offer of baked goods was adamantly declined. Earlier that morning, I had enthusiastically mixed the ingredients for the cookie dough, lovingly shaped the precious, little morsels and delicately packed them in an attractive, reusable container. Those Russian Tea Cookies were almost required, like admission wherever I happened to turn up during many a holiday season. They were an ultimate comfort food as they could not be had without the proverbial glass of milk. To say that I was a little miffed, maybe a tad rebuffed...that would be putting it mildly.

The main offense for me was that I had actually phoned this particular host (a newer acquaintance at the time) earlier in the week to ask if there was anything the members of the household didn’t eat. “Oh gosh, we eat just about anything,” she said. Except nuts, apparently. As soon as she saw the cookies she asked me, “These have nuts in them, don’t they?” Ignoring the panicked look in her eyes, I answered, “Why yes, they have walnuts in them.” Food allergies. This is just a shot in the dark, but I believe any food item that makes your head swell up like a balloon and your skin break out in a horrendous rash, falls neatly into the category of food items members of your household don’t eat. She sent me home with my cookies in a ziplock bag and kept the attractive, reusable container.

Another time, I rushed about trying to find the right kind of pie to take to a friends’ house after she had invited me to an impromptu gathering in her new home. I remembered that she had received not one, but two ceramic pie dishes a month earlier at her house warming potluck. A very lively conversation immediately ensued about her love for sinfully, sexy fruit pies. This was the first I had ever heard about treats other than chocolate that were considered sinful, but what stuck with me were the words fruit and pie.

I finally found the most perfect looking apple pie and since I didn’t bake it myself, I decided to wrap the pie container in furoshiki. I thought this would make the gift more special. She was thrilled with the pretty fabric and the fancy way I had wrapped the omiyage. When she discovered the apple pie hidden within the soft folds of the furoshiki, I could swear I heard her gasp. She looked at me across the island in her kitchen, a grave look on her face and said, “We don’t eat apple pie here.” That’s it, no further explanation was given.

What in the name of all that is decent and holy? Not only was this one of the rudest comments anyone has ever made to me, but I truly wondered if I was dining in the home of a twisted and beleaguered ex-patriot. I don’t know why I was so surprised. After all, she used a word like sexy to describe fruit pies, for crying out loud! I faked a “stomach issue” during the first round of appetizers and got the hell out of there! She literally tossed the uneaten pie at me as I rushed out her front door and I heard her exclaim, “thanks for the pretty fabric!”

Oh, I could just go on and on in this fashion for days. Instead, here are a few “winning” highlights of my omiyage journey: the guava chiffon cake I discovered in the kitchen trash after returning to the party when I realized I forgot my cell phone on the counter near the sink. Eight minutes had elapsed since my original departure.

The Chocolate Haupia Pie from Ted’s Bakery that remained largely untouched, (I had a piece of course), by a group of women gathered for a passion party; I later found out that everyone was on a diet and in a strange competition (with a cash prize) to lose the most amount of weight in the least amount of time.

The freshly baked blueberry scones that were sent home with me at the end of a breakfast party because the group didn’t like scones, but failed to mention this important fact when they were brought up in conversation about ideal breakfast foods: scones originally made the list.

The miso soup a sick friend wouldn’t drink because she was convinced it would give her the runs. Nevermind that she ordered it every time we shared a Japanese meal together.

Well, you can just imagine how all of this has affected my ability to present omiyage to anyone. I find it quite difficult at times to make the effort to select just the right food item to share at a gathering. Now, I just show up with practical, sundry items. A 4- pack of toilet tissue, a 13oz bottle of unscented hand sanitizer, a pair of beach towels, two rolls of individually wrapped paper towel, a package of napkins, several pairs of rubber slippers in different sizes, a bulk pack of AA batteries (they seem to be used the most), a box of J&J Q-tips (they’re the best) and two packages of Japanese washcloths (you can’t get clean without them).

Most people laugh, thank me heartily and I feel secure in the knowledge that they will never send me home at the end of a party with anything I presented them with and they could never bring themselves to throw any of those items away. For that, I am truly grateful.