Why morning papaya?
Morning papaya is more than just a cutesy name (although I do find it quite cute, personally). A daily dose of papaya was my introduction into Colombian culture, and it all started with Abuela Ruth.
Abuela Ruth's story
My husband Firo has a huge family that spans the globe, but the main branch that I know and love is located in Medellín, Colombia. Medellín is where Firo's grandmother, Abuela Ruth, was born. For decades she raised her family in both Colombia and Syria, eventually becoming the matriarch that gathered the family and cultivated it in Medellín. She had four children, fifteen grandchildren, and seven great-grandchildren before she passed away in 2016. Abuela Ruth was the one who welcomed us into her home when our family moved to Colombia, and she was the one who taught me about morning papaya.
Morning papaya
I moved with my two-year-old and three-month-old to Medellín, Colombia in April of 2014. I made the initial move alone while Firo wrapped up loose ends in Burbank, CA, our previous home. Needless to say, it was a difficult transition. For the first four months I lived with Firo's mother and grandmother in the family home, and my Spanish was abysmal. Despite the communication barriers and cultural differences, Ruth welcomed me into her home with an open heart and an open mind.
On my first morning in Medellín, I woke up early with baby Noah, and Ruth was the only other person awake in the house. As soon as she saw me, she got up and shuffled into the kitchen, bustling about while I changed the baby. She came out moments later with freshly cut papaya on a plate, handing it to me as if I were the most treasured of guests. In Spanish she explained that in Colombia, fruit is eaten first thing every morning.
"Papaya is the best fruit to eat in the morning," she told me earnestly, "for the digestion."
From that day on, every single morning, Ruth chopped papaya and served it to me as soon as I woke up. I was treated with the utmost kindness and respect, like some visiting princess, even when I knew my welcome was wearing thin.
Ruth introduced me to the polite hospitality and open kindness that I have grown to love in Colombian (more specifically, Paisa) culture. She treated me with that same sweet respect until she passed in 2016 at the age of 82, leaving a massive void in the family hierarchy that will never be filled. To this day I see the tradition of morning papaya carried out by her children and grandchildren (now all adults), who continue to feed morning papaya to their own children, Ruth's great-grandchildren, of which there are now thirteen. It is a mainstay of Colombian culture and, to me, a symbol of Colombian hospitality and the family that has made me one of its own.