By: Giselle Deñó |
Two and a half months into my stay in the Dominican Republic and I still have not eaten sancocho. It was an aberration to everything I stood for, to my “Dominicanness.” I had had it in mind since I set foot in this country, but the odds were against me; every time I held a chance to enjoy this delicious dish, something got in the way. My colleagues had to pay for the effects that the lack of sancocho had on me; the side effects are very serious, almost lethal. I spent the whole week telling anyone who had ears to hear me that I needed, not even wanted, sancocho in my system.
Regardless of this
condition, the week went off great. I experienced some relapses every now and
then but in general everything went very smooth. I worked on some amendments to
the Code of Criminal Procedure, with which we are in search of more effective
penitentiary and judicial procedures that would be tougher against criminality
in our country. The subject of criminality and violence is one that is very
close to every Dominican’s heart due to its degree and reach, but also our
fervent desire to see it get better. It is a subject that should be addressed
for countless reasons, but opening tourism that is so much restricted and
overly dependent of all-inclusive hotels is perhaps one of the most important.
There is so much to see and experience on this little Caribbean island and that
is why leaving without eating a sancocho distraught me.
Besides my usual work,
a couple of things happened off-schedule. Kim came to visit me at the House of
Representatives for an interview about my internship. We had a pleasant talk
and I felt happy to show her what I have been working on and so that she too
could be as amazed as I was the first time coming here. I don’t believe law is
her cup of tea but she had fun filming around the building. One day this week I
was also invited to visit another department, PNUD, Spanish abbreviation for
the Development Program of the United Nations. I conversed with the director
and got a chance to meet her intern, a very nice Italian girl that has grown a
liking for the country. One of the thoughts that crossed my mind while I was
with her is that I bet she had already enjoyed a nice and steamy sancocho and
what a disgrace that me, a Dominican, had not. The impossibility of such thing
remaining at that state was assured this weekend when my grandmother, who had
just arrived from New York, cooked this typical dish at my request. Nothing
like cucina della nonna. Now I can finally resume with my work in peace and my
colleagues are let off the hook with my constant mention of this famous
sancocho.
Photo by: http://carlosprieto.net/?s=sancocho+de+pocho |
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