The Hunger Challenge: Day 5

We arrived at our home in California in the early afternoon of August 2008, exhausted, stressed to the limit, and penniless. Our Serbian neighbors who reserved our apartment next to theirs shared their dinner of Serbian Bean Soup with us, and helped us move what little we had into the apartment. They gave us a card table with four chairs, two air-beds, two armchairs, a coffee table, a lamp and enough plates, glasses, and cutlery to bridge the waiting period until the rest of our stuff arrived. One of these days I might sit down and write about our trip west, but not today. It still hurts too much.

While Husband and I were in the frenzy of unloading everything from the the rented SUV, the Beasties were hanging around the patio, unable to get their bearings. My friend Dragana planted herself right at the bottom of the stairs leading to the apartments upstairs and yelled. In no time three Mexican girls came running down the steps. The first minute, the five children just stood there looking at each other, not knowing what to say or do. Soon enough, it was like listening to a bunch of birds of different species chirping, cawing, clucking, and hooting. From that moment they became inseparable.

Vanessa was in third grade like Zoe. Noemi and Anya had the same fifth grade teacher. These two were born just days apart, but both were drama queens craving the spotlight.  This  made them too competitive to become close. Yesenia, a seventh grader, was the oldest of the Sanchez girls, but for some inexplicable reason she and Zoe became the closest friends.

The four younger girls rode the bus to school together. As soon as they would come home, they would all gather at our apartment and do their homework. Yesenia would join them later, and they would play until night time, causing an unbelievable level of high-pitched noise. I was amused when I noticed that the Beasties became whinier as the result of the friendship, and their whines carried a lilt of Spanish.

There were six children in the family and the mother, Gabriela, was expecting the seventh. Luis was the oldest at fourteen, a troubled child who did not like school, but admired his Uncle, a member of a gang. Yesenia, Noemi, and Vanessa came after, with Emi and Sofia closing the ranks at four and two years of age. The father, Jesús, worked as a cook at Nordstrom’s and at a local country club. Gaby did not speak any English, and we communicated through the kids.

In November the little baby Jesús was born, a tiny bundle of cuteness. I was cringing every time Gaby would let the children, including mine, hold him. But very soon he became their plaything, and we all grew very attached to the Baby. Dragana simply fell in love with him, and started watching him more and more. After some time he was calling her “mama”. In between gulps of juice and bites of a banana she would teach him to speak Serbian.

Dragana and I would sit on the patio, drinking our Turkish coffee and observing all the differences between the children. The Sanchez girls were allowed to play as long as they took care of the three youngest siblings. They carried them, fed them, played with them, and changed their diapers. They behaved like little women. I would not trust the Beasties with taking care of two sheep drawn on a piece of paper. Heck, I do not think I would trust the College Kritter, either! But these girls were attentive, responsible, and caring. And as soon they heard their mother calling them, they would run up the stairs, abandoning any game or project they started.

They ate breakfast and lunch at school for free. Once in a while Jesús would bring some food from work. And sometimes Gaby would make posole or tamales, enlisting the help of all the kids and some relatives. But on most days the school lunch would be the last meal they ate. Dragana cooked every day. I cooked every day. Coming around the corner you would be enveloped by the smell of sauteed onions, roasted peppers, or freshly baked bread coming from our little enclave. But every time I asked them if they were hungry, they would say no.

We decided that we had to break through their little barrier of pride. Dragana would pass out candy and give them money for ice cream when the truck pulled into the parking lot on Wednesdays. When dinner time rolled around, the Beasties would set the table, adding extra bowls and plates, and I would just ask them if they wanted to try some of my cooking. Most of the time they accepted and joined us at the table after Gaby gave them her blessings. Dragana did not ask. Her husband Milan would fire up the grill, she would break open a bag of hamburger patties and just thrust the food into their eagerly awaiting hands.

We tried to feed them regularly on the weekends and holidays when the school was not in session, knowing that their little bellies were grumbling. Dragana’s family is not big on leftovers and she always sent any remaining food upstairs. I fed them at our dining room table, including them in our family conversations, wanting them to feel like they belonged.

The next fall Jesús left, after an episode of pretty intense domestic violence. Gaby did not work and had no source of income. She rented one bedroom to a young couple. We were all worried for the children. They missed school having to take care of the little ones. They had no time to finish their homework, and we knew they did not have anything to eat. I talked to Gaby and she let the girls come downstairs every morning. They had breakfast with the Beasties and then Husband drove them to school where they still ate free lunches. Dragana and I conspired and decided that between the two of us we could offer them some pretty good-tasting, nutritious food. We employed various techniques and ruses, and managed to feed them pretty regularly.

In the spring of this year, they had to move out. Dragana and I were heartbroken and worried. We were talking of housing the kids in our apartments until the situation got resolved. But we did not suggest it knowing how proud they were. We cried, hugged each one of them, and tried to reassure them. I whispered into each girls’ ear that I expected them to rise above and do well in school, while the tears were streaming down my face. The Beasties were crying, the Sanchez girls were crying, and it was an emotional mess. When they left holding their meager belongings in garbage bags, we were all left sobbing for hours.

For some time we did not know of their whereabouts. And then one day Gaby drove the bunch of them over, and they played with the Beasties all afternoon, talked about how much they hate their new school, the chicken coop next-door to their “house”, and not having a refrigerator or a stove. They are still proud and protective of their family, but we found out that Jesús moved back to Mexico, abandoning his seven children. We know that they move around from place to place in Santa Ana.

Anya’s birthday was on August 8th. I did not expect that they would remember it, but the Sanchez girls showed up nicely dressed and spent an afternoon playing with the Beasties. For a moment it felt like old times. They laughed, teased each other, and argued. The whining was the same, the bird sounds were the same. But nothing else was the same.

Some other people live in their apartment now. But once a while I imagine I can hear the girls bickering as they are coming down the stairs, running to catch the bus. I have a vision of Yesenia’s brown slender legs disappearing around the corner and of Noemi’s light brown hair flying as she runs behind the building. I hope they are healthy. I hope I see them soon. I hope they stay in school and do well.

This is Day 5 of The Hunger Challenge. Husband is visiting his Offspring #1 who recently moved away to live with her boyfriend. I thought that I would make a pasta dish with all the various shaped remnants and all the various remnants of cheese in the fridge. No meat necessary. I thought that the Sanchez girls would love this creamy, hot dish, with melted cheese enveloping the noodles, and the crunchy topping giving it a bite. It was delicious and I wish they were here to share it with us.

BREAKFAST:

soft boiled egg

tomato slices

english muffin

coffee, Husband

rye bread and 1 sausage link, me

milk

.85 per person

• Eggs, $4.00 for 12, .33 for 1
• English muffins, $2.79 for six, .23 for a half
• Milk, 2 for $4.99, .15c for a cup
• Sliced heirloom tomatoes, $1.99 per pound, .50 cents for 1
• .50c for coffee
• .99c for rye and sausage

LUNCH:

soft boiled egg

peach

juice/water

yogurt

chips and salsa, Husband

a piece of multi-grained roll with butter, me

• 1 egg, .33c
• peaches, .49c per pound, ½ peach for .12c
• yogurt, .50c
• juice/water, .25c each
• chips and salsa . 50c
• bread and butter .50c

.85c per person

DINNER:

leftover Serbian Bean Soup

Baked Macaroni and Cheese

milk/soda (the kids)

white wine (me)

(Husband ate the beans before he left, and we finished off pasta later at night)

$1.57 per person

• Beans, already included, therefore free
• Pasta, $1.29 a pound (mixing and matching, I probably ended up with about a pound)
• Butter, $1.99 a pound, 2 Tbsp, .13c
• Flour, $2.99 per pound, 2 tbsp, .05c
• Milk, 2 gallons for $4.99, .15c per cup
• Cheese, $5.99 a pound (I used a couple of slices of provolone, some jack and some cheddar), $3.00
• Panko breadcrumbs, $1.99 for 8oz package at 99 Ranch Market, I used 1/3 of the package, .66c
• Parmesan cheese, $12.99 per pound, just a sprinkle, $1.00

BAKED PASTA WITH CHEESE

Ingredients:

• 1 pound of pasta (I used any more robust shape I found in the pantry, a bit of this, a bit of that, rotini, farfalle, penne, even 1 lasagna noodle, broken into pieces)
• 2 Tbsp unsalted butter
• 2 Tbsp all-purpose flour
• 1 cup milk
• 8 oz cheese (I had a couple of slices of provolone, some jack and some cheddar)
• 1 tsp kosher salt
• 1/2 tsp freshly ground pepper
• about 1 cup of panko breadcrumbs (I liked the crunchiness they added)
• a sprinkling of freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano

Directions:

Heat a big pot of water with a handful of salt on high heat, when it boils add the pasta and cook for 8-9 minutes (it should be slightly undercooked). Drain.

Preheat the oven to 400F.

In a heavy saucepan melt the butter on medium heat. Stir in the flour and whisk to incorporate. Add the milk and stir to avoid lumps. Turn the heat down to low and let it cook for 2-3 minutes to thicken. Add the cheese, salt, and pepper and stir to help melt the cheese. Taste and add more salt and pepper if necessary. Pour the pasta and mix well. Transfer to a buttered oven proved dish and bake for 25-30 minutes until brown on the top. Let it cool for 5 minutes and serve.

I m contributing this recipe and post to 12 Days of Bloggie-mas, hosted by Alex of A Moderate Life.