![]() ‘Our next attempt was from seed, the seed packet we think was through some offer in the Western Morning News, and we planted these, that was the beginning. ![]() We bought a young echium from a tropical garden centre near Penzance, which we grew on in a pot, but sadly had a disaster when we tried to straighten the stem by loosely tying it to a cane in the pot….it died. ‘Ever since we saw these strange prehistoric plants back in the 1990’s, growing in random locations in the South West, we have wanted them in our garden. This was donated at Appledore Lifeboat Station on Wednesday 2 September, the cheque being accepted by Appledore RNLI Lifeboat Operations Manager Tony Merrill. ![]() Peach has harvested approximately 400 seedlings from plants in their garden and offered these for adoption in return for donations to Appledore RNLI, raising a massive £735.45 to help their lifeboats and crew save lives at sea. News and Features Expand menu - News and Features.Find my nearest Expand menu - Find my nearest.Give feedback on our education resources.Plan and register your fundraising event.She is published or forthcoming in Guernica, The Best Small Fictions 2019 anthology, Hobart, SmokeLong Quarterly, and elsewhere. She was the winner of the 2019 Malahat Review Open Season Award in Fiction and has received fellowships from VONA, Tin House, and One Story. A wedge of lime in one hand, a rope in the other. We inhale and swallow, we eat and eat and refuse to be empty. A memory, a forgotten place, a distance too great to cross. Gorging on survival, something that is our own. We sit around the table eating everything we can’t find. Let me fill my mouth with longing for what we lost and found again, let me reach out my hand and grab for more. Give me the whole fruit, the whole seed, the whole plate. Give me the peanuts slick with pepper paste, the peanuts boiled in salt water, the peanuts floating lifeboats in dal. Give me the salted papaya, the mango slice rubbed with a triangle of lemon. Unhinge your jaw, consume whatever you’re given, aching, longing, too hungry to In the next country you swallow your memories, You do not consider what they took from you: the ground beneath You,īeing a child, thought it was the crickets, that you had taken something that The next day you found yourself exiled,įleeing a country that spat you into the ocean, teeth from a broken mouth. You found yourself wanting, the crickets drowning in bileĪnd fruit flesh on the bathroom tile. Oil-crisp, wings stiff and light as eyelashes. Then guava, flesh scraped with baby teeth, the insides of a coconut, its The temple, orbs of sugar and sun-warmed milk rolled by hands bigger than You tell me that in the beginning you ate peda offered from Mouth, unable to imagine what might be better. ![]() Heads low to the table, we ferry food from plate to Pillows of bread, noodles thick as thighs. ![]() The only food inĮxile is everything we never dreamed: potatoes fried into oily smiles, white The British dip butter toast into cups of imported Indian tea. The rice meal, we say, as the plantains hang fat and green from the trees, as The only food in the labor camp is riceīoiled to slurry, set with small stones and prized nodes of salt. Waves, the acid of emptiness, the boy who asked his mother for yogurt and datesįrom a mouth crusted with seasick. The only food on the boat was rice meal mixed with water, Food marks the displacement of the collective speakers as the pleasure of “guava, flesh scraped with baby teeth” is replaced with the need to “unhinge your jaw, consume whatever you’re given.” In the last section, the speakers’ desire for flavors from home is inextricably intertwined with a hunger for “a memory, a forgotten place, a distance too great to cross.” Wading into Oza’s richly textured prose, the reader’s immersed in the tastes of loss, survival, and longing. Assistant Editor Maggie Su: All three sections of Janika Oza’s “Lifeboat” revolve around food-as sustenance, as survival, as a way to connect to a lost country. ![]()
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