Cinnamon Rolls

During quite possibly my favorite weekend in the Dominican Republic (the San Pedro one when we stayed with Jon), we made several meals, discussed life deep into the night, went on gallivants, and laughed until we cried. It so very clear in my heart and my mind that these interactions, these expressions of true community, are the fullest and most meaningful aspects of life. I loved preparing the meals. I can effortlessly recall these scenes. Each person has his/her own task and we are listening to The General by Dispatch and just getting used to Joanna Newsom’s peculiar, yet strangely appealing, music. After drinking chinola margaritas and rum and coke, we went on a night adventure, and then came back to the apartment to hang out in the air-conditioned room and enjoy each other’s company.

The next morning we went to Maira’s homestay family’s house where we made David’s famous cinnamon rolls and learned about “bancas de esperanza.” The cinnamon rolls were fantastic. They were fluffy and moist and perfectly sweet. They were a dream and I came to associate them with the perfection of relationships and community that I was learning about in the Dominican Republic. I was learning that people and relationships are THE most important and fulfilling things and everything else pales in comparison.

I knew that I wanted to make these cinnamon rolls for Christmas.

My family’s Christmas morning typically looks like this: 1. Each person opens stockings. The rule is the kids can open their stockings as soon as they wake up. Usually the grownups sit down with their coffee and individual go through their stockings at the same time, occasionally uttering a thank you or a laugh. This year we all opened them as a group (mostly) as we didn’t have too impatient a group. 2. We open presents. Somebody plays Santa and distributes presents one at a time so we call all look, admire, and comment. 3. We have a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and Pillsbury cinnamon roles.

We always ate the crummy Pillsbury ones in the past and I was eager to replace them with the best tasting (and most meaningful) cinnamon rolls I’d ever consumed. During my first week home from the DR, I tried out the recipe. I made them with my sister/friend Kit and they turned out perfectly. They were fluffy and moist and perfectly sweet. I shared them with family and friends and it seemed my Dominican heart lessons were transferring perfectly.

In the middle of the year, we had a mentor-bonding event for WYSE a student organization that I help lead. I decided that the cinnamon rolls would be perfect for that event. I went out and bought all the supplies and made them in my dorm’s kitchenette. But the rolls didn’t turn out right. They were not at all fluffy and they tasted a bit greasy. I had to make the cream cheese frosting twice because the first time flopped so badly. But, they tasted ok and I attributed the problems to the mediocre-at-best oven and a bit of chef impatience.

So, Christmas was upon us and I was eager to make the most delightful and most meaningful cinnamon rolls for the family. I had pictured it perfectly in my head. I would wake up early on Christmas morning. I would pull out my laptop with the recipe and good music. And, by myself, I would meticulously make these cinnamon rolls that I could share with the family.

In short, the cinnamon rolls failed. They were exactly like the WYSE ones: a tad dense and a bit greasy. I had thought I fixed the problems, but I guess I did not. My one guess as to why they didn’t properly fluff was that I didn’t kneed the dough long enough. I was so disappointed, that I could have thrown them away. Now, if I had made a bunch of cookies that had kind of flopped, I would not have had this dramatic reaction. No, that would be no big deal.

Now, my family will probably tell you that I am being overdramatic. Everybody thought they were delicious and all 18 were gone by the end of the morning. Sure they were tasty. Add enough butter, sugar, and cinnamon to anything and it will be tasty, but they were not the perfect cinnamon rolls that I had had in the past. They were not the cinnamon rolls of deep conversations and loving friendship. These were sub par. These rolls were supposed to be true excellence and I feel like, both with WYSE and Christmas, I exposed people to mediocre cinnamon rolls.

And you know what, I was in a dampened mood most of Christmas morning because they didn’t turn out right. I know I know I know. That was stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. The cinnamon rolls really represent experiencing each moment fully, breathing each moment in soulfully, caring about each other deeply.

But you know what upsets me the most: that I made the cinnamon rolls perfectly right when I returned home. During the first two months home, I viscerally knew the lessons I learned in the DR. They took hold of my heart and soul and mind and guided me. Over the course of the last ten weeks (initially prompted by a great disappointment), the visceral understanding has faded and thus I only apply those lessons when I intentionally think to do so and now it feels clumsy and contrived.

I mean, I’m not going for Hugh Grant’s self-deprecating humor thing. The harsh reality is that I have not been very good at actively loving the people I most care about and living in each moment. Now, I AM aware that that top-of-the-mountain victory feeling of “living in the moment” is NOT sustainable, though of course those moments are wonderful and I am fortunate to experience them. However, I do think the deep peace of love and of loving others and having what is most important can be a visceral guide is sustainable. I think so, but I have yet to do so.

Time post DR:

1. I am learning that true disappointment can knock me down for a long time. I’m now trying to figure out how to balance dreaming, getting excited, and not letting disappointment freeze me.

2. I have not earned a penny for the school in the Dominican Republic and I have not started any ventures to do so. That being said, I think about it almost daily. I just don’t really know what to do.

3. I don’t know how summer internships and career tie into “that which is most important”

4. I learned I like the Wall Street Journal

5. I learned (again and again and again) that I can hurt my best friends and either ignore it or be completely oblivious to what I did. I also learned that I tend to avoid relational confrontation though I shouldn’t.

6. I learned I like country music.

7. I learned that I like banter but it’s also my drug of choice. By bantering, I make sure people know I’m smart, I avoid intimate conversations (and thus the most important thing), and I avoid awkward silences.

8. I am learning that I like poetry

9. I am learning to long board

10. Even whilst helping people (etc), I’ve been pretty self-absorbed.

Much love,

A

Interesting, but not necessarily symbolic PS:

At 2AM on December 26, I looked at the cinnamon roll recipe again. You known what? The picture online looks exactly like the WYSE and Christmas cinnamon rolls. I didn’t truly eff them up, but there was obviously something different from the other “perfect” batches.