IS It KURU, CURU, AWARRA, AWARA?

To be honest, I forgot this fruit existed. It wasn't until my mom showed up with this baby's bracelet that a bunch of memories resurfaced. We can't really remember its name, but google searches lead me to either kuru, curu, awarra, awara. I am not sure whether those words are Spanish, English, Warao, Arrowak or Carib, but they are a fruit I have never again eaten since leaving Venezuela.

This is a fruit for the patient. It tastes delicious-a nutty, fibrous, cashew-ish flavor, but there is little flesh to it, so you have to peel it very delicately, lest you accidentally peel off all of the flesh. It was a fruit that frustrated my instant-gratification self, so only the elders had the patience to feed me this fruit.

It was rarely sold in the markets, so the only time I would have it was when we visited our elders in the more rural/jungle-ish regions outside of the city. I can't even tell you in which direction we went, but the grand aunts and uncles always had lands with fruit trees and this was one of them. If we visited them at the right time, they would take their time to peel these and share with me.

The last time I ate this fruit I remember my almost completely blind grand uncle peeling it for me. He had a monacle and a small knife and it took F-O-R-E-V-E-R. I forgot about this fruit, and I can't believe that within a generation a flavor could be lost.

So let me tell you about this bracelet. My grandfather made it for me. To do that he had to find a large fruit with a large seed and then cut, sand and polish the seed without breaking it. It is supposed to do something which we have already forgotten and it has been passed on from child to child and that is how it came to me again. Upon giving birth to my daughter my mom showed up with it, my grandfather would not want Rocio to go without whatever it has to offer.

I feel lucky to have this bracelet as a reminder of a way of life, a flavor, a fruit. It also reminds me of how easy it can be to forget.

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