Making tostones to manage the pains..

 

Tostones..

The plantains are not too green and I think what the heck, let me try any way to make the tostones.  The place which used to sell them closed at the end of 2019 and I used to eat once a week.  I can't fry and I know that I can't fry but if I want to treat myself, I have to try frying.

Youtube shows a way to do the tostones partly in the microondas and then to fry. Not bad. 

Plantain comes out of the microwave.. slightly difficult to peel. I think heck, this is not going well. I use a small plate to smash.. two of them break slightly so I take my hand to form them back.

Oil is heated in the pan.. I wince at the oil and imagine the oil flowing in my veins and pancreas and so on. But I think nah.. some will leave over. Put the pieces in and splutter and so on.. all the things abotu frying which don't happen on Youtube and other videos.

But nice smell and golden colour.. and with the second batch the oil disappears.. and I say to hell with it.

A bit of salt.. too lazy to try with the bit of garlic too.. and as I eat.. nice light plantain.. crispiness.. to hell with glycemic index and so on.. and this is sooooooo much better than the platanos verde tostones.. .. and the mood rises and the sense of accomplishment and the pains seem to go away..

Managing pains..

Stressful event. I know it is stressful, and I am breathing through the mask. Standing in mountain pose. Nerves in the body sending waves .. I know this is going to lead to more pains. I try not to fight the body but at the same time to take the nerves elswhere.

Man comes up.. 'hey..' he is familiar. I can't remember him. I try not to stress about that .. the fading memory. We fist bump.. chat a bit me trying to remember him and this thing where we talk to people in general ways. As he leaves, he reaches for a hug and we hug and laugh.. 'Covid'' we say and we both say we are vaccinated and so.. and as he leaves i keep thinking who is he .. and I remember much later  much later

Another man comes up. we fist bump. "Oil is a curse in Guyana' we say.. man is smart guy, retired.. and concerned about how 'Black and Brown' continue to be divided by the new imperialists. I have been avoiding conversations like this as the body tenses up as I can't do anything any more about 2021 Guyana. We shake hands and hug as we leave.. and I laugh.. yeah Covid .. 

Come home and try to move .. anxious.. thinking all kinds of things.. and feeling bad , low. I write a friend to tell him that I need to tell him... that the anxiety now is about the anxiety and to prevent the pains.

Un-writing and Re-writing..

Part of my writing in my head.. I am composing another long email to the loved one who had called after 18 months of shunning me. Their religion was clear.. Satan speaks through me. The night I called back after seeing the missed call.. I thought something was wrong as why else would they call.. the brief exchange in which I did not say all the things I had rehearsed saying if we ever met face to face... 

but one email resulted in a gaslighting kind of reply and the two other emails had no results except to show that nothing had changed and the shunning of Satan had resumed and I laughed and felt the pain in the body from the stress of 'shaking a mango tree to expect sapodillas' 

Writing in my head thinking that writing it out and sending it would ease the pains.. because suppressed thoughts cause pain.. and as I decide.. let me do some yoga, a lil bit .. because the yoga does not always help but as I breathe and I think .. hey.. what do you want to write in your journal tonight? Do you want to write "I sent another email , I am such a fool, etc etc" and as I breathed and stretched and instead of focussing on the stretches and breathe..

I said no.. no .. I want to write " I feel okay, I tried the tostones .. they were great.. I did not write another long pointless email and that I love still'

And that is what I wrote in the journal tonight.