Fried Love & Traditions

Saturday morning hit

Hit the school bells, please. I want to split

Split the air and hurry home

Home where Mama’s prepared lunch

Lunch is almost swallowed whole

Whole days we have waited for this time

Time to visit our grandparents

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We pack our things and race to go

Go from the city to the country side

Side-eyeing my sister who wants the window seat

Seated in the middle, I still enjoy the road

Road of asphalt running along the Caribbean Sea

Sea, with iodine in the warm air

Air of tropical peace; we’re almost there

*

There!

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Mommy has parked the car and now time is slowing down

Everything has shifted within us, children

Our excitement is so high we seem to have calmed down

It is serious business for me and my brethren

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Like komodo dragons we taste the smells with our tongues

Squinting as we analyze the aromas in the air

We are looking for particular particles to fill our lungs

Grandma has not forgotten us, she would not dare

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Suddenly, a whiff of something frying

Hurray, she is making dankits!

We get out of the car, running!

We barely say hello and pounce on our feast

*

This centuries old fried dough with codfish

Is a symbol of love from our grandmother

So simple yet delicious from start to finish

Sometimes, on Saturdays, I savor one in honor of her.