At ten years old, the world revolved inside my home...

I always imagined that everything that happened in my life was what happened in every house on the planet. I was convinced that people laughed on the same occasions, liked the same music, got sad in similar circumstances and even ate foods identical to those on our table...

Even considering the uniqueness of my home, we lived in a town in Argentina, my father was a Japanese Buddhist and my mother was a Western Catholic...

I remember that the most important meal in my house was dinner, because it was a time of day when we all got together. My parents, my brothers together and relaxed, created a magical atmosphere because they always had an anecdote or an interesting fact to remember. But I cannot remember those homely evenings without bringing to my memory a very special fragrance, that of the warm and peaceful aroma of rice, cooking on the stove and permeating the atmosphere with the unmistakable sign that dinner time was approaching. At that time, my mother served it in bowls that some of us shared with the closest diner, as in my case, since I did it with one of my sisters.

At that time I had a schoolmate named Ramón, who was also a neighbor in my neighborhood. My friend wandered in the world of mathematics with notable difficulty, on the other hand, I, who although I liked literature was also an excellent mathematics student, came to his aid every afternoon and together we did our homework.

Appreciating my patience and perseverance, one day his mother invited me to dinner at her house. Unlike my brothers, I have been a sociable person and I loved this offer, I had never eaten in any house other than mine or that of a relative. So it was that with great enthusiasm I dressed myself up and went to share Ramón's table, which consisted of only five people, his grandmother, his parents and his older brother. I remember that they placed me next to my friend, while I watched as his mother, like mine, made sure that nothing was missing from the table.

Finally he appeared, bringing a large platter of delicious chicken with golden potatoes. He then set about serving the dishes with care and when he had finished, everyone began to eat with an appetite worthy of soldiers in their moments of truce. However, I didn't try a single bite, as I was still anxiously awaiting my indispensable bowl of rice...

I assumed that it was just a simple oversight, that in a matter of moments someone would notice the unacceptable oversight and run to the kitchen bringing them. But this never happened, suddenly Ramón's mother noticed that I had not eaten a bite and asked me anxiously if I was missing something, to which out of respect I answered in the negative. Then, imagining what a terrible economic situation was looming over this family, I decided to start eating without my portion of rice…

When I returned home, my mother was waiting for me to tell her what this first experience of my social life had been like. I immediately and with real concern related what happened with the rice, but she smiled and after thinking for a few moments, she answered:

- Well, that is a custom we have in this house and not everyone shares it...

That night I had a hard time falling asleep, it is too strange for a child to consider their differences and accept them. But that's how I discovered that my world, the one in which I had lived in harmony until that moment, was not the reflection of the rest of the universe.

There were human beings very close to my home, who were even capable of eating without their bowl of rice...

© 2016 Marta Marenco