Yeny and the Children for Peace by Michelle Mulder Read Free Book Online

they were grinding Rocio explained the whole process. Next they’d mix the mashed corn with a few other ingredients, like tomatoes, to give it more flavor. Then they’d put a spoonful of the mixture onto a big, wet, green plantain leaf, flatten it a bit, and add a small spoonful of the pork filling from the big pot on the stove. On top of that, they’d put more of the corn mixture. “The hardest part is when you have to tie it up in the leaf,” Rocio said, “loose enough so the fillingdoesn’t squeeze out when you knot the string, and tight enough for everything to stay together when it’s boiling.”
    Yeny nodded, but her mind was already hours ahead in the wonderful moment when they would open up one of the steaming leaf packages and scoop out the rich filling with a spoon. She could almost taste the corn boiled in the juices of the meat.
    But first they had to finish the grinding. She took hold of the little handle and turned it. “It’s like making chocolate,” she said, thinking back to afternoons at María Cristina’s house after cacao harvest.
    â€œYou know how to make chocolate?” Rocio asked, eyes wide. Rocio’s mother, who had been dipping the big plantain leaves in boiling water, stopped and turned to Yeny.
    â€œWe did it every year in the village,” Yeny said. “Many families, like my friend María Cristina’s, had cacao trees. They sold most of the beans to big companies that made chocolate out of them. But there were always some beans left over, and after every harvest we used to roast them, and grind them up with a grinder like this one. Then we added sugar, ground the mixture again, made little chocolates, and let them harden.” Yeny sighed, remembering. “Sometimes we popped the chocolates right into our mouths. But most we saved for making hot drinks.”
    Rocio looked amazed.

    Kids here certainly missed a lot by living in the city, Yeny thought, but she kept quiet because she didn’t want to offend her new friend. “If we get some cacao beans sometime, I can show you how.”
    â€œYay!” Rocio shouted. “I
love
chocolate.”
    â€œI love tamales,” said Yeny.
    â€œDon’t worry,” said Rocio’s mother, laughing. “We’re making so many, I’m sure we’ll have enough for you to take home and enjoy with your family.”
    Yeny grinned as she turned the handle on the grinder. That was just the kind of thing María Cristina’s mother used to say.
    On Saturday afternoon, Yeny put on her jeans and her green top with the rainbow on it. When she lived in the village these had been her “city clothes,” the nicest and newest-looking things she had. It seemed funny that, now that she lived in the city, she spent most of her time in her school uniform.
    Today would be different, though. Today was the carnival, and she would dress in her best. What a relief that her parents didn’t worry about her so much anymore. Papá had told Mamá wonderful things about the planning meeting that he had watched. And both of them told her how happy they were that she was making friends.
    Yeny smoothed her top over her tummy, and wandered overto the kitchen. Her mother was sitting alone at the table, patching a hole in a pair of trousers. Elena and Carlitos were outside in the tiny patch of grass behind the house. Neither of them was interested in the Peace Carnival. Carlitos was too little and Elena too boring. Their aunt and cousins had gone to visit a neighbor before heading to the radio station again. They’d found out at the last minute that there was time available on the program that day, and of course they would never give up a chance to talk to Juan’s father, no matter how many Peace Carnivals were going on. Yeny didn’t mind going to the carnival alone. Already she knew many of the people who would be there. It was going to be the very best day