Saturday, July 10

On Neighbors, Friends and Food

Cheryl (see sidebar- Konkadoo) asked how we end up with the relationships we do with our neighbors. It isn't something we think about- it's just something we "do". I don't think we've ever lived anywhere that we haven't befriended neighbors, strangers, friends of friends. She got me thinking, though, and you know, I think it's all about the food.

My Mother was a Southern woman in many ways- particularly when it came to her home, her kitchen, and the people in her world. She had a few rules for company in her home, which were clear and consistent:

1) You're only a guest once, after that, you're family.
2) There is always room at the table for "one more" (or ten more- it doesn't matter, there is always room at the table).
3) If you leave hungry, it's your own fault.


Is it all about the food? I am inclined to think so, or at least partially so. The early Christians gathered to break bread together, and Paul would preach. The food, the interaction and support and comaraderie of fellow believers was central. Am I making a huge theological statement that Religion is all about the food? No, not at all, but ya know, there's a reason the pot lucks and meals at churches are referred to as times of "fellowship".

Joining together at a table has been a sign of respect, familiarity, agreement in many cultures over the years. When you share a meal with another human being, you are sharing in traditions that predate ourselves and our histories. There is an intimacy in sharing nourishment. Some of that is lost by the high rate of dining in restaurants, where there is not so much of one's self put into preparing a meal, but still, sharing the table, sharing the conversation, and sharing your self is inherent in the food and, by default, in the relationships.

If someone breaks your trust by stealing or lying to you or running off with your daughter, it's somehow doubly offensive if that person has sat at your table and shared your meals. Why? There's an intimacy in food. There is an unspoken trust and boundary set by that universal act. Don't ask me how, I don't have the foggiest idea. Like I said, I only started thinking about it recently...

When there is a death in the family, food is a comforting gift. Yes, it helps alleviate the need for the bereaved to figure out what to fix for dinner, but on a deeper level, it says, "You are not alone, share our meals, know that we are here for you". That's what you're really saying. When there is a wedding, there is food. Graduation: food. Holiday: food. Food is integral to celebrations and observations in all cultures in all times. It's one of the things we do, and I really think that when you open your home, your kitchen, to others, you are opening a part of yourself to them, inviting them right into the core of your corner of the world and saying, "Come, get warm, be fed, share with us."

Now, I'm not suggesting that anyone go about using those exact words. And if you do, for Pete's sake, please don't blame me when you get slapped with a restraining order by the recently-freaked-out neighbors. But even if you have lived a year, five years, ten years in the same neighborhood and have never so much as said, "Howdy!" to your neighbors, I'm going to suggest that it's not too late to start. If you want to develop those kinds of relationships, somebody's gotta cook something up and offer to share it. It's just that simple.

Try it. Just walk right up to someone's home and introduce yourself. Say, "Hey, we're going to be roasting the flesh of a dead herbivore on Friday. Want to join in the consumption?" Or, you know, make it up as you go... it gets easier with practice. Particularly when you have one or two who have said yes, and you can then hit up neighbor number three and say, "Several of us on the block thought it would be nice to have dinner together this Saturday. Why don't you join us?" See how EASY that is? Suddenly, you're making friends. Voila!

From time to time, out of sheer odds, we have hit upon the occasional sociopath who we determine that we will never again allow on our property, it's true. Those instance are so phenomenally low, though, and generally those people don't enjoy our company, either, so they're easy to eradicate.

This approach may not be for everyone. It works for us because we love to have a home where everyone feels welcome and at home. We love the loud, chaotic energy of people buzzing about comfortably, interacting and chatting, cooking and singing. We like the activity, and think that life is much better when not experienced in solitude. (Obviously, we would make lousy monks!) We have amassed an amazingly eclectic group of friends and acquaintances, some of whom have nothing in common with each other than that they know us. Yet, they have come together for Holiday feasts, just-because BBQ's, moving parties, graduation parties. They have developed their own intertwined friendships. Our lives have been much richer, and the overall tapestry of our journey together is more vibrant because of the colorful, wonderful, interesting people who have come to our table... and stayed for a while.

That's about it. And Cheryl, if you're ever in our neck of the woods, the door is open- come on in and we'll feed ya! ;-)

Dy

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