The smell of a crisp Saturday morning reminds me of the aroma of my family’s Asian market. It was a fond childhood memory to run around the store, clustered with aisles of soups, snacks, noodles, and fruits. I climbed up the mountain of heavy rice bags and beat on it like a drum all the while my aunt works hard to maintain her store. It was not until I grew older when I began to walk in her shoes.
Once I began working, that smell of a crisp Saturday morning went away. All that I could smell was bloody pig meat and I would be asked to wash off the red and pulsing blood from the pig organs. The smell of intestines, spleen, tongue, heart, and ears overcame the smell of herbs and fresh greens from the recent shipments. I blanketed the bottom of the sink with paper towels to sponge any excess blood and water from those organs. The latex gloves were a must in this endeavor. The gloves, however, did not stop the slipperiness of those organs. I thoroughly cleaned every centimeter of those organs, trying to reach that precise measure of dryness that my aunt desired. I estimate that fifty sheets were blood-soaked at the end of the cleaning on one day.
The work was tedious. The first time I finished drying the meat, I felt relieved. To my surprise, that relief did not last long and I was back on meat duty, bagging them. The bagging process was as long and smelly as the cleaning process. After the organs were placed in their own little transportable, transparent homes, my aunt taught me the basics of the electronic scale, allowing me to accurately measure the weight of the meat. I double-bagged and double-knotted to ensure freshness and prevent that bloody smell from entering my nostrils. I would then put a label. Tim heo for pig heart and tai heo for pig ear.
As the first child to be born in America in an immigrant family, she knew I was too comfortable with the life I was given. She wanted me to take a step outside my comfort zone, just like how she took a step out of war-torn Vietnam. Although working at a grocery store pales in comparison, I appreciate the escape of comfortability and working on something that is out of the ordinary.
