Is it me or is it them? Was my effort to make a pie and walk across to get to know my neighbors not good enough for them to welcome me into their home or visit us in our home? Do we live in a cynical society where people have little to no time to embrace newcomers in their lives? And I don't just mean the occasional "hello, how are you". Shouldn't there be a comfort level to walk into someone's home without having to "schedule" it weeks if not months ahead of time? Do I sound like a complaint box? Maybe I do ! So before you judge me or think of me as the creep who wants to barge into your home without prior notice, let me get to the bottom of this "issue" I have had for over three years. I grew up in a society where everybody knew everybody. Yes, this does have its cons, for example, you couldn't go on a date without the whole neighborhood knowing or someone knocking on your door right when you wanted to take a nap. However, the pros outweigh the cons, hence my post.
As a little girl, I always remember knocking on my neighbor's door wanting to eat what the matriarch cooked in her kitchen, instead of feasting on what my mother prepared. I also recollect my neighbor friends wanting to eat what my mother cooked instead of their's and everyone complied. I wasn't a nuisance to my neighbors and their children were no nuisance to my parents either. We were welcomed 24/7. Back then, this routine was a part and parcel of our lives. Not once did we consider physically saying "thank you" to our neighbors every single day, this was just a way of life, they were family and we loved them. Any nature of formality would have put us into the 'outsider' category. I always considered myself a child of the community. Yes, I have my mother dearest, but my best friend's mother was also another mother and so was the mother of that other friend and that girl who lived next door. Let's not forget the grandmother of that friend, who was also like a grandma to me and that other lady upstairs who always fed me what she knew I loved eating. My friend's father was just as dear to me as my own and till date calls me his darling daughter. It is with utmost sincerity and genuiness that I have a new found appreciation for the 'community' that raised me. How fortunate were we! I have no kids of my own yet, but my prayer would be for them to have the fortune of communal upbringing that we did.
So, coming back to the question of how well do you know your neighbors...do you? When I moved into our new home a few years ago, my husband insisted that making some pie for the family residing next door would help me trigger our friendship. No, I wasn't looking to be best buds with the dude, his wife and kids. All I wanted was to get to know them a little bit. They lived next door afterall. If they were out on vacation for a few days, we would keep an eye on their home and vice versa. I would cook us a huge pot of chicken biryani and invite them for dinner every week. The Mrs would call out my name some evening and we would sit out on the porch and drink coffee. The kids would knock my door and expect candy on a regular non-halloween day. We would host potluck parties at each others' homes. Little did my husband know that after two homemade pumpkin pies with homemade vanilla whipped cream, on two separate (thanksgiving and non) occasions, the neighbors only cracked their front door open, grabbed the pie and said a polite 'thank you'. I wasn't invited inside, I could bearly get a glimpse of their home. I wondered if they were creepy and hiding a deep dark secret no one should know of. They smelt normal, the dude even went fishing with his kids and their garage was fairly clean. After almost six months or so, the Mrs gave us a plate of dry home made cookies ( I never said I wouldn't judge her cookies, did I? I also write about food and have been told I should bake for a living ). Her husband also told mine that the pie was delicious. Knowing me, I made them another one but never heard back. Perhaps my judging her cookies also has something to do with the fact that their hearts refused to open up to new friendships. I choose building new bonds over food exchanging anyday. So, we invited them inside but they refused to come. Turns out, the plate of cookies was their 'thank you for the pies' gesture. A year later, they moved out and we only found out when the family was almost all packed and ready to leave. My first experience of getting to know my neighbors was a flop show. They didn't even bother to remember my name and I remembered theirs, perhaps my memory is stronger? Oh Well!
You deserve not to be overfed with too much of the neighbor chapter at once. So, please await Part II , if interested. Hopefully, a writer's block won't get in my way like it did since my last post. In my defense, I wanted to make a better excuse but there was no other. Until next time...
Good Night
xoxo <3 (heart, sideways) .
