Much can and has been said about humans and food. And not without good reason. Being the sole inhabitants of this planet that are bio-cultural beings, food takes on paramount significance for Homo sapiens. From micro- and macro-nutrient analyses about metabolic interactions, to discussions of how scavenging and hunting likely played vital roles in the evolution of our ancestor, Homo erectus around 1.8 million years ago, to the way we come together or can be torn apart over the production, preparation and consumption of food, this is indeed an inexhaustible and interesting topic. From the standpoint of my current interest—and by this I mean my interest right now, after eating two and half empanadas prepared as part of a group effort for our coffee break at the Monteverde Institute—I wish to highlight the symbolic role that food can play in social interactions, and in the understanding of the larger contexts in which these interactions take place.
Food, it can be said, is symbolic. That is not to say that we literally eat symbols (although some annoying French theorists might make that argument), but rather to point out that we don't simply eat an assortment of macro- and micro-nutrients that let us carry out our daily activities. Of course, we do this, but we also do more. We conceptualize what we eat in socially patterned ways. Thus we have foods that remind us of our home when we were young, of meals prepared for us by loved ones, or of rough times; we have foods we eat during religious times, and foods we eat at birthdays. When, how and with whom we eat also reflects social processes and patterns, which brings me back to the Monteverde Institute.
As part of my research I am based out of this NGO. It is a small organization, with around 18 employees, that is dedicated to community-based research, education, and sustainable development. There are around 5 employees from the US and the rest of us are Latin Americans. And if you were an alien observer that could not understand any of our languages, nor see the phenotypic differences between the North and Latin Americans, I would be willing to bet that you would still notice some differences in how we carryout our days at the Institute. Most notable would be the contrast in time spent hanging in and around the kitchen.
Among the things that makes Costa Rica famous is its delicious coffee—although this fact somehow eluded Kate as she prepared for her first trip here. She was nervous because she was going to meet my family, and she wanted to make a real good impression on them. “Why not bring some nice gifts?”, she must have thought. And nice gifts she brought. Noteworthy for the present discussion was the North Carolina coffee she brought. “Oh that's so nice”, I remember my mom saying, as she probably battled to hide her “what the hell?” face. And coffee has played more than just an aesthetic or culinary role in our history. It literally formed the backbone of our fledgeling economy as we sought out a more active role in the world economy. So for these reasons and countless more, we like our coffee and we like our coffee breaks. Our friends from up North, well, not so much. I mean, clearly people from the US love coffee. Some places you see around as many Starbucks as you see poorly manufactured cars (just kidding Holder family! About the amount of Starbucks, that is). And our Gringo buddies here definitely drink as much coffee as we do, but the way they do it is quite distinct. I mean, the brew process is the same, and we usually all fill our mugs from the very same pot. But what transpires after our mugs are full is were the true distinctions lie. While us Latins tend to hang out in the kitchen for undefined periods of time, the United Statesians tend to zip right back to their work stations, to continue with whatever it is they are busy with. We laugh. Somebody will comment on how “they” like to drink cold coffee, eliciting responses of horror from some uninformed Costa Rican.
Today marked a special occasion, in that the executive director of the Institute was away on vacation. So, I, being the prepared young lad that I am, brought some corn dough and cheese with me to work. Three pm roles around and the kitchen started to pick up. “What? It's time?”, people said as they trickled in. We would waltz in and out, taking turns in shaping the dough and filling it with cheese, refried beans, and some left over pork I had. Thirty minutes later and we were howling, joking with each other as we ate and drank coffee. We planned our next empanada making session, and a potential “Olla de carne” day (a traditional beef stew). I asked Kate to join us twice, but to no avail. Justin, our colleague from Tennessee walked in last, had a few empanadas, joked a bit, and was the first to leave.
Now of course this scenario does not apply to all Costa Ricans nor to all North Americans. The fact that we are in a rural community has a lot to do with the patterns of socialization that we practice here. But whatever the root causes that contour our experiences I have to admit that I really like it. While we work, we make sure we attend to the human element by visiting each other numerous times throughout the day, sharing food and joking. We remind each other in subtle unspoken ways that life is meant to be lived socially, warmly, and with a nice belly full of grease.
Belch.
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