Aunt Effa, a distant cousin of my mom's, could never stand durian. All because of its offensive smell, the durian was decidedly her most loathed food. But of course, none of my family members, the avid durian lovers, could understand why. Thus, it's no surprise that when we had a durian feast we would always expect Aunt Effa to join us too. But that was the precise moment Aunt Effa chose to disappear and hide out in her room. My mom, being mom, would have none of it. She was insistent that my aunt should enjoy the 'treat' too.
Every time during our durian feast she would save some just for Aunt Effa and warned us, kids, not to even think of stealing them. Yet, she would still trust us enough and would ask any one of us to take it upstairs to my aunt's room, actually expecting that my dear aunt would enjoy it in private. "How could anyone not be tempted by durian when it's right under their nose?" was her reasoning. She genuinely believed that my aunt wouldn't be able to resist if greeted by the sight and smell of the durian. If only she knew!
And when it involved durian, the ever greedy me would never fail to be the eager one to volunteer her service for I knew Aunt Effa would never disappoint. Every time she was offered durian, she would flatly refuse. She would pinch her nose and scrunch up her face in utter disgust while screaming "Take that thing away from me!" — to which I would gladly oblige and immediately make the offending food disappear. Short of licking the plate clean, I would greedily shove every bit of the durian into my mouth down to the very last bite. Mmm... yummy! But no, I didn't eat the seeds too.
A perfect win-win situation, I'd say. Aunt Effa got to dispose of the unwanted durian without even laying a finger on it while I got to savor an extra amount of my favorite fruit. No doubt a side perk of being the durian messenger. A good thing that mom was none the wiser too. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to take advantage of the situation. Not once, not twice, but every single time.
Because of my aunt's despise for durian, it had often confounded me how or why anyone could hate durian so much when it was obvious, it is a fruit that has a taste like no other. It is creamy and custardy, and although the taste could get overwhelming and oniony sometimes, still it has all kinds of amazing tastes rolled into one: sweet, bitter, strong, and some other tastes that are beyond description.
Whatever the taste may be, one thing's for sure, durian is sinfully delicious! Sure, half the time it may smell like garbage and dirty socks, but it is the only fruit I know that has a taste that is out of this world! If only Aunt Effa could get over the durian's repulsive smell, I was pretty sure she would be able to appreciate and enjoy it too.
That was what I thought back then before some higher power decided to teach me a lesson. I was fast asleep one night after enjoying a megadose of durian earlier when I was suddenly hit by a stomach clench. Eyes still heavy with sleep, I ignored the pain and willed it away. I thought surely if I ignored it long enough, the pain would let up. But instead, the pain grew stronger. Not a minute later, I was jolted out of bed just right before the urge to purge drove me to the bathroom in a haste.
Clutching my tummy, I was doubled over in pain while my whole body broke out in a cold sweat. No choice, I had to spend the rest of the night slumped over the toilet bowl emptying out the contents of my stomach. I threw up so violently that some of the vomit made it through my nose. Ewww!
The unmistakable stench of durian, pungent and vile, was purely disgusting, which made me gag all the more. I threw up so much that I thought I was going to be choked up by my own vomit.
Even after the bouts of purging ceased, everything seemed to reek of nothing but fermented durian. It was such a disgusting and horrible smell that since that very moment I swore I would never touch durian ever again!
Since then, whenever everyone else in the household was enjoying durian in the kitchen I would be quick to make my escape upstairs to hole up in my room and wait it out until their durian feast was over. If I didn't make myself scarce, I was afraid a mere whiff of the durian would cause me to break out in a cold sweat again and trigger another dreadful gagging episode.
However, months later... Surprise, surprise!
Blame it on my mom. She opened the door to temptation when she purposefully offered me a piece of durian from the main fruit she had just split open and was left sitting invitingly on the table. But I was still too traumatized by the durian ordeal that I immediately declined. Why would I go for a repeat of that horrid night?
But mom was rather persistent. She kept on coaxing and goading me to have a taste. "Just a little taste", she said. Her next words before she was about to give up on me finally made me cave in.
"If you don't try it now, you'll never know what you're missing. Come on, just give it a try. Just a little. I promise it won't hurt you."
At first, I was skeptical. But to appease her, I swiped a little portion with my finger anyway and hesitantly ventured a taste. Lo and behold! I forgot how durian could taste so exquisite. The moment it touched my tastebuds, any memory of the dreadful night was entirely wiped out! One little taste was all it took for my months of resolve to crumble.
Needless to say, I finished the rest of the durian in a matter of seconds, and encouraged by the smile of victory on mom's face, I shamelessly helped myself to more.
And just like that, I folded like a cheap deck of cards and once again, got myself hooked on the king of fruit.
