Four Master Chefs
By Rebceca F., on mission in Costa Rica
One day, our 9-year-old neighbor Diego was playing in front of our house just as we were coming back from visiting. He mentioned he had a guitar and wanted to learn to play it, so I brought out ours and showed him the finger placement for one chord. He immediately forgot where to put his fingers and strummed tunelessly while I made up lyrics about the beginning of the world. Then, I left him with the other girls while I went to cook dinner, but he wanted to cook, too. I let him roll out the dough for the chicken pot pie I was assembling and help me set the table. He enjoyed it so much that he declared he was going to cook dinner for us later that week, and we accepted. When his 7-year-old brother Jose heard that he was going to cook for us, he wanted in on the action. Diego cooked us a pot of rice while Jose helped Naty make jam with the guayabas we had received earlier that day. A few days later, Jose showed up on our doorstep asking to help cook again that night. Of course, it was impossible to say yes to him without also saying yes to Diego. When the moment arrived, another little neighbor was at our front gate with huge pleading eyes, hoping to be let in. When I sent him to ask his parents for permission, he returned with his brother as well. Suddenly we had four master chefs who all wanted to be involved and all we were cooking for dinner was pasta. As Diego and Jose were helping Lucia, I quickly invented a dessert to keep the rest of our army of cooks busy. For about half an hour it was utter chaos as we carefully monitored those who were chopping bananas or attending the stove while keeping the others from sticking their fingers in everything. Ever since then, they started coming to our gate nearly every day to plead to help us cook dinner, go to the farmers market, or literally anything else we need to do. They even offered to help me write this letter, assuring me that they have very good handwriting and know a little bit of English. Their idea of “help” is a little different than mine…