Solidarity in Times of Crisis

After visiting my local cannabis shop I stopped by Que Rico restaurant in Steinway. I've been here twice before and remember it only being a Colombian joint but with the added Venezuelan flag, I guess they must've partnered in business and cuisine for a broaded gastronomy of the two nations. Which makes sense because they both have similar foods. Just don't get the two nations started on where the Arepa, a corn cake made out of corn dough, first originated.

While I ordered my munchies meal of empanada de queso with chorizo and a potato with picante --a tasty treat that can be eaten any time of the day-- I noticed a family of four and their two children sit next to me. I didn't bother to look to at them, a quick glance was enough. It's rude to stare anywhere you are.

Such great ambience in Que Rico. It wasn't very busy that day, probably because it was midday. Naturally, we of South Americas tend to joke and quip amongst ourselves non offensively. I think this is very common amongst all customers and establishments, but I think more so among certain cultures. I'm a proud Ecuadorian and it is socially known, as many can attest, that fellow Ecuadorians unless they REALLY know you, their service can be cold and even lack politeness, lacking even the "Thank you come again."

The men and women working there were very attentive and helpful. Focusing on women (I am heterosexual), everyone knows that Colombian and Venezuelan women are known for their beauty, as the constant top five women in Miss Universe in prior years can attest. Also, good naturedly, don't ask any of the women in these respective countries where the most beautiful women are. It's like the Argentina/ Brazil feud in soccer.

There was a chatter in the background when it came time to pay for the meal. Seems as though a frequent patron had paid for the family's meal. It was a grand gesture done quietly without alerting the family or waiting for a thank you. Like an angel lifting a little weight from the constant personal doldrums.

I looked behind me and noticed the family appeared as though they were part of the recent wave of immigrants coming to New York, mainly Venezuelans escaping the economic and political turmoil of the inept Nicolas Maduro regime.

The family here was willing to pay for a couple of empanadas and coffee they had ordered, but the generosity of a stranger shed light in the increasing solidarity among these Latin American nations. It was in the quarter of the last century that Colombians too faced a dangerous climate dealing with the drug wars, paramilitary groups, FARC, and other left-wing guerrillas groups like ELN.

If only there were more people to witness this benevolence and follow suit considering there have been a lot of racism and animosity towards Venezuelans who have fled their country. A few bad apples don't spoil the bunch.

PS: In light of this story not being approved by Vocal because of its word limit, I would like to add that this experience is dear to me because my ex wife is Venezuelan. What an excellent woman: Beautiful, docile, well mannered. Now she has moved on with another man who has fathered her a child. There's no remorse because it was my fault. I wasn't mature enough for a committed relationship.

God I will miss her encebollados, an Ecuadorian tuna tomato soup, which she perfected while working at a restaurant. Uff, and also the puffed arepas she would make with tuna inside called Diablitos. Above all, I will miss the classic Venezuelan dish: Pabellon Criollo.

Since I've lost her, I am saddened to say I have lost 14 lbs. Sniff.