What I Learned This Week

"They" say you learn something new every day. I haven't gotten to share this just yet, but I learned something very interesting and very new on Tuesday.

I was riding the train home, and it was packed. Such a touristy time of year. I finally managed to make my way to the back of the train, where I could lean against the wooden cabinet and stay out of the way.

Enter eavesdropping. Or more exactly, enter--people talking so loud the words on the page of my book jumbled and blurred to the point that I was staring at a page with undecipherable black markings forcing me to instead listen to said loud talkers.

The girl on the bench--heavy, loud girl--self proclaimed "I'm part black, part Creole, part American" speaking to two French guys standing in front of her bench, holding onto the rails.

She started the conversation:

"Are you from France?"
The reply--"Yes, we are."

Small back and forth about how she knew they were French.

"Where are you from?"

"All over! I live in Oakland, but I've lived ALL over Oakland." Insert multiple neighborhood names here. "And I was born in Berkeley."

More back and forth.

"Do you speak French?" one boy asked.
"Nah, but I worked in a French restaurant."
"Oh! What did you cook?"
"Crepes--the easiest thing ever. And paninis, things like that."
"Oh. Paninis are Italian."
"They are? I didn't know Paninis were from Italian."

Enter more banter about food and origins. Then asks if she knows French words. She does. It's Bonjour.

"Oh, do you also know how to say goodbye?"
"No. But my sister speaks French. We're part Creole."
"It's au revoir."
"O river." Giggles.
"Good!"

French guy returns to food conversation. "Crepes are French, paninis are Italian--what cooking is American?" he asks, adding: "Other than hamburgers."

"Well, hamburgers yes. And pizza. Oh no, pizza is from Italian. French fries---well, no, I guess they're French.

I don't know! I mean, I'm only part American. I'm also black and Creole. So, I eat Soul Food. Greens, black-eyed peas, yams. That's American.

Oh! And BBQ! That's Amercian. I eat a lot of bbq."

"BBQ is American?" he asks.

"Yeah, it's American. It dates all the way back. Indians invented bbq. When the settlers came to America in the 1800s, or the 1300s or whatever, Indians showed them how to make the bbq sauce and everything. It goes all the way back in American history."

"Oh! Wow, I had no idea," he said.

And neither did I! A little nugget of grossly inaccurate American history is what I learned on the F Tuesday evening. Of course, it did spark my curiosity enough to check out the true origins of bbq, but her story is way better.