Papaya Valentine

I knew this was Valentine’s week and the rest of it but instead of going shopping for a heart shaped cake or, even better, a heart shaped diamond, which all the tireless commercials were urging me to do, I decided to go looking for a sweet tasting papaya. Why papaya? 

Well, a new home remedy website that I found on the Internet claimed that this wonder fruit was actually a cure for almost all the ailments a human body suffered from. It solved indigestion, improved cardiovascular function, prevented heart disease, protected against muscular degeneration, lowered cholesterol, removed intestinal worms from the body, fought infections in the colon, boosted our immune system, destroyed liver cancer cells, mended the kidneys and increased the radiance of the skin. The benefits of eating papaya were so outstanding that many people consider it something of a super food. 

Also it stopped hair thinning, cured dandruff, alleviated blemishes, scars and treated sunburns and inflammation too. And to top it all off, while trying to lose weight, it helped in a dramatic fashion. Papaya was high is vitamin C and was best known for the enzyme papain which was commercially used as a meat tenderiser. It was supposed to increase our metabolism and help in digesting fats and assimilate carbohydrates. 

Right! Reading all this made my head reel and I wanted to reach quickly for a plateful of freshly cut papaya slices. The two varieties of papaya that were available in Jordan came from either Mexico or Hawaii. The Mexican one could grow to be rather large but its taste was subtler than that of the Hawaiian one. Scanning all the grocery stores left me empty-handed and I was soon directed towards the main fruit and vegetable market in downtown Amman. 

Now, the narrow opening that lead from the main road to the vegetable souk was lined on both sides with meat shops. The fresh carcasses were de-skinned and some of them deboned. They were hanging upside down from hooks that were attached to the awnings. The butchers called out to me as I stepped past their store carefully, a tissue pressed firmly over my nostrils.

Though I tried to blend in with the local ladies, the fruit sellers caught me out in a second. After the initial greeting in Arabic, they spoke to me in fluent English. My frantic search for a papaya ended in vain because they sold only fresh produce and at this time of the year, had not even heard of papaya from Mexico, Hawaii or any other place. 

Sensing my disappointment, each of them, with utmost formality, handed me a gift from their stall. For you, they said, as if they were giving me a bouquet of fragrant roses. And they would not accept payment for it, saying it was a present. 

My elderly aunty from America called me in the evening. She used to take me vegetable shopping in the lanes of India when I was a child. The hawkers would always give me free handouts of whatever they were selling, whether I wanted it or not. 

“Did you get a nice Valentine’s Day gift?” she asked me. 

“Yes,” I told her. 

“Good stuff?” she queried. 

“Three peas, two beans and one carrot,” I confided.

There was complete silence for one moment. 

“Sounds familiar,” she replied. 

“Like the vegetable vendors in India,” I reminded. 

“Healthy stuff,” she laughed. 

“Health is wealth,” I had the last word.