This crazy treat is called a bomula. It's a citrus fruit that's about
the size of a soccer ball before the skin is whittled off, after which
it's the size of a slightly smaller soccer ball. The taste is
somewhere between a mild orange and a mild grapefruit, no hint of
soccer ball at all. I ate it at my new friends' house near the hotel
where I am staying in Ramallah. Razan works with me at CARE and she
and her brother Mohammad have ensured that I don't whither away in the
hotel after work, so tonight they invited me over for spaghetti and
bomula and fresh picked corn on the cob with their parents. Mrs.
Jalajel is an excellent bomula carver, as the photo shows. Once again,
I find myself marveling at the hospitality I seem to find everywhere I
turn. As much as anything else I am learning here-- language,
politics, history -- I know that some of the most important lessons I
will take away from Palestine are to be found in the simple moments
like the one I shared with the Jalajels tonight. Be nice, be generous,
be grateful.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
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1 comment:
I'm pretty sure that's a pomelo (Citrus maxima or Citrus Grandis). I *love* those.
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