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Hi everyone,

It’s Ray again.  I can’t sleep because I just had a very strange dream about illegal immigration.  In the dream, I was serving as a judge before a woman who was on trial to be deported but was appealing to the court because she wanted to stay for her son’s wedding and her father’s funeral.  The prosecuting lawyer was slamming her with every single statute that substantiated the movement toward deportation.

As the judge, there was nothing I could do. I sympathized with the woman because she was staying in America for very valid reasons, and she promised to leave after her son was married and her father buried.

I just recently woke up, and on cnn.com and Google News, I see several stories about the issue.  I see stories about policymakers struggling with the issue.  I see stories about ignorant and often racist people who want to keep the illegal immigrants out by building walls around our nation.  I see stories about people giving aid to immigrants.  From the sad, the happy, the disappointing, to the uplifting, the news stories make me happy and sad about the future of our nation.

And as we enter into the final months of the election, I wonder what the verdict will be in the end.  I’m happy I’m not the judge who has to make the decision, and I realize that perhaps one of the very many reasons I write about food is that food is something that is cross-cultural and vast.  It is something that can be shared.  Food is something that transcends borders and leaps over walls.

I only hope that one day the flexibility that people have in taste can be extended to our borders.  But then again, we’ll always have our picky eaters. The trick is the show them that new things aren’t so bad…that in fact, the best food is sometimes the food that doesn’t seem to belong.

Because you see…the beautiful thing about food is the same thing that’s beautiful about people.  There are so many kinds, so many flavors.

A very sleepy,

Ray

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