A Eulogy for Items Lost, but Not Forgotten

I

On Wednesday, December 18, my Bejarano family gathered together for the funeral of my grandpa, Heriberto Wilson Bejarano Paredes, or Papa Hery, as we affectionately called him. After the funeral, we went to one of his favorite buffets in Salt Lake City.

While we were there, two men in a white Cherokee shattered the front passenger side window of my sister's car and stole her purse. They proceeded to make large purchases at WalMart, Smith's, RedBox, and other nearby stores.

When we left the restaurant, we found broken glass strewn across the asphalt. Although my sister was in intense shock, she gathered herself together and began making calls to cancel her credit cards. I called the police and filed a report. A police officer met us at the restaurant, where he was able to access the surveillance camera (which is how we know a little bit about how the crime was committed).

My sister's fiance jumped into the restaurant dumpster, hoping that maybe the thieves took the wallet and ditched the purse. After his search came up empty, he, along with several of our excellent cousins, drove to nearby stores to see if they could find any leads (or useful surveillance footage). Over two hours passed, and they came up empty.

II

The good news is that all of my sister's credit cards were cancelled and that she is not liable for any of the purchases the burglars made. Also, we found a local business to repair her car window the next day, and they charged us a reasonable price.

The bad news is, many of the items in my sister's purse are irreplaceable. Credit cards, iPhone earphones, chapstick, and the purse itself are items that can all be fairly easily replaced-- but there were other items in my sister's purse that, although worth little monetarily, were worth a lot sentimentally.

There was a USB drive that contained many of the essays she had written during her time as an undergraduate economics student. Many of these essays were not saved on her laptop and do not survive in paper form.

Since we had recently come from my grandfather's funeral, my sister had copies of the program in her purse. She specifically sought out English and Spanish copies to keep in her collection. My sister's fiance designed the programs, and her contribution to the funeral preparations was to print the programs.

Before my sister's fiance bought a "real" gold-and-diamond ring, he made my sister a ring out of twine and string. It is a simple ring, probably worth only a few cents if we're talking materials, but to my sister that ring means a lot. I remember receiving a text message photo of the ring when her fiance gave it to her-- she was ecstatic.

There was a joint-journal she kept with her fiance. Earlier that day, while we sat at the funeral service, my sister took time to carefully record her feelings about our Papa Hery. She could try to re-write the memories that were in her journal, but she will never be able to replicate the entries with same emotion that comes when an event is still fresh in one's mind.

And even though the bag itself is replaceable (I found an identical one online), even it has memories attached to it. When my sister came to California for my graduation, we decided to buy matching tote bags at Target. I still remember that trip to the store, and when I see my own bag, I think of my sister's identical one.

III

Now, you might be thinking, why did she have all of those items in her purse? Why did she leave her purse in the car? Those questions are easy to ask after-the-fact. My sister is torturing herself with those very questions. The truth is, we've all done careless things like that before-- and the purpose of this post is not to educate you or anyone else on proper safety precautions, but to mourn the loss of items that, by meaning so much to my sister, have come to mean a lot to me and our immediate family.

The last two days have been really rough for my sister. It would be one thing if the thieves merely took her credit cards, it is another thing to know that two sinister people have items so close to your heart. A journal, two funeral programs, a USB drive, a square knot ring.

We cannot reasonably expect to get any of the contents of my sister's purse back, yet we still hope that maybe something unexpected will happen. That the police will bust the perpetrators for another crime (and find the purse), that the thieves will have a change of heart and return the items, that somehow we'll wake up tomorrow and realize this was all a dream....

As I reflect on this small tragedy, I am impressed by how quickly we mobilized to help my sister. I am amazed at the calm, eloquent way she went about calling her bank and her credit card company to cancel her accounts (even when that included sitting through a slew of automated messages).

I think it is really cool that she has cousins, and a fiance, that were willing to drive from store to store trying to track down information about her lost bag. (If a guy jumps into a dumpster for you, you know he must really like you).

IV

So, a message to my sister: we all care about you and love you very much. You won't stop making great memories. And at the end of the day, while the items you own are important, the people that surround you are the most important. :-)

This is what my sister's stolen bag looks like.

Vegetarian Etiquette

Recently, I made the decision to be vegetarian. Truthfully, it's one of the easiest decisions I've made in my twenties--compared to deciding to be a full-time Mormon missionary, get married, study English at Stanford, etc.--choosing to be vegetarian was really simple. In fact, I didn't even really consciously decide to be vegetarian, I gradually just "became" vegetarian. As my mom pointed out when I told her about my new lifestyle, "you never really liked meat any way."

Now that I'm part of a growing Vegetarian Clan, I have become aware of the many mildly offensive things non-vegetarians say. I'm ashamed to admit that I, too, once said things like that to friends of mine who were vegetarian, vegan, or had another type of dietary restriction.

During this time in the world (or at least in America) where many people are choosing to eat (or to not eat) certain foods for health, moral, or other reasons, I think it's time all of us learned a quick lesson in the etiquette of how to treat and interact with people who do not eat what you eat.

I am not writing this from the viewpoint that vegetarians are morally superior or smarter than non-vegetarians-- the majority of my family is non-vegetarian and I am totally fine with that. I am writing this from the perspective of someone who is in a minority and who is just asking for a little more respect and understanding from the non-vegetarian majority.

1. "There's a salad!"

If you're vegan or vegetarian, chances are you've probably heard this phrase A LOT. You show up to an event that serves a meal and realize that everything has meat in it; when you ask the host/ess if there is anything vegetarian, s/he surveys the table of food and offers up the phrase: "There's a salad!"

I really don't like hearing "there's a salad!" when there is a table full of food for everyone else to eat-- but hey, I know that the person saying that is usually just trying to be helpful, so I usually just shrug it off and make a mental note to grab myself some food after the event is over.

But what really, really gets to me is when someone notices that I haven't had any salad, and tries to follow up with, "you're vegetarian, you must love salad," or worse, "you're vegetarian, but you're not having any salad!?"

That just really makes me upset. You'd never say, "you're Mexican, but you're not an illegal immigrant!?" to someone, or "you're Mormon, but you don't have seven children (or wives)!?" Why? Because those stereotypes are offensive, and you would never just assume that because someone affiliates with an ethnic or religious group they necessarily fit the stereotype.

But for some reason, it's okay to assume that vegetarians love salad. (Because what else would they eat, right? ...Wrong.)

The truth is, I don't usually eat salads. Sure, I'll have a little garden salad if it's served with a nice panini or heaping portion of pasta. If it's a candied walnut, apple, and goat cheese salad, topped with a nice raspberry vinaigrette, I'll eat an entire dish of salad. But more often than not, the salads you see at your every-day event are not fancy salads full of nuts, fruits, veggies, and fine cheeses. They're often mixed greens (with tiny shreds of carrot) that made their way to your nearest grocery store in a plastic bag. 

Fun fact: basically everything in that bag, no matter how it's marketed, tastes the same: bland.

If you're a meat-eater and you're not interested in taking more than three bites of that salad, chances are your vegetarian friends aren't interested in eating a whole lot of it either.

So please, if you realize that you forgot to bring a vegetarian dish to your event and can't quickly remedy the problem, be kind enough to just apologize and promise to do a better job in the future. Don't try to shove all your salad off on your poor vegetarian guest.

And if you will soon be hosting a party, remember that a regular old salad-in-a-bag does not satisfy your vegetarian item requirement. (Unless your guest is Jared and it's baby arugula).

Addendum: Vegetarians, vegans, and others with food restrictions have commented that they don't expect people to cater to their diets. So, I should revise: don't sweat it if you don't have something prepared for your food-restricted guest, but still, please don't guilt us into eating the bagged salad.

2. Be courteous when making decisions about where to eat and what to cook.

My sister decided to go vegan this past year, and when we tried to explain this to my 91-year-old grandmother, she said, "I'm not modern like you young folk." She doesn't really get what being vegan or vegetarian entails, but she knows we have dietary restrictions and whenever we go out to eat, she gives me a few options of places to eat beforehand, so I can choose a place that has something vegan/vegetarian on the menu.

This is such a nice gesture, especially coming from someone who doesn't understand the appeal of eating vegetarian. It is the same kind of courtesy you might extend to someone who has an allergy to seafood, or a strong aversion to a certain type of cuisine. So please, extend that courtesy to us vegetarians, too! (And in return, we'll try not to drag you to a raw food cafe).

My grandma, sister, and I end up going to Olive Garden a lot... but hey, they serve a great vegetarian minestrone and their tasty breadsticks are vegan! 

3. No, it's not "all in my head."

Some people find it funny to give vegetarians food with meat products in it, because they believe "if it doesn't look like it has meat in it, it's probably fine." Or, just as bad, they give vegetarians meat because they're careless.

Please don't be the waiter that brought Jared a ravioli sampler and forgot to make a no-meat request to the chef. I know you're busy, but let's return to the allergy analogy: if someone breaks out in hives and swells up in the face from eating peanuts, you'd probably try pretty darn hard to make sure you didn't feed them a peanut-laced meal.

Now, you might be thinking: yeah, but an allergy can make someone sick, unless you're allergic to meat, you'll be fine eating some! False.

Here's another fact: once your body has stopped digesting meat, cheese, or another type of animal product for long enough, it becomes very hard for your body to break down those food products. The result? You get sick-- sometimes you feel nauseous, sometimes you vomit. Whatever happens, it isn't pretty, so in effect, it is comparable to having developed "an allergy" to a type of food.

Trust me. And even if you don't, just be courteous, and don't tell your vegetarian acquaintances, "it's all in your head."

Recently I went to an event that served a dish that looked vegetarian. When I asked one of women in charge of the event if it was okay for me to eat, rather than just assume it was, she went to the person who had prepared the dish to verify the ingredients. Turns out the dish wasn't vegetarian, which was kind of sad, because it looked delicious, but the woman who figured that out deserves a commendation for going out of her way to be helpful and understanding.

4. "Can you eat _____?"

Some people have trouble distinguishing between vegan and vegetarian and gluten-free, etc., etc. And that's completely fine and understandable. After all, there are lots of new and specific diets out there!

But what really bugs me is when people decide to play the "can you eat [insert type of food]?" game. For instance, a few days ago, I was at a dinner and a woman sitting near me noticed I wasn't eating much. I told her I was vegetarian and that lots of the dishes at the get-together had meat in them.

When a server came by with ice cream, the woman near me pointed at her dish and asked, "so you can't eat ice cream?" To which I replied (somewhat snarkily), "does that ice cream have meat in it?"

When you ask questions like that, what you're really doing is making an assumption about someone. You're not sending the message that you're open-minded and would like to learn more about a different way of life.

Vegetarian Stuffed Bell Peppers

As a Mormon, people have asked me questions like, "so do you wear weird underwear?" Or "is it true that Mormon men have many wives?" I really don't like talking to these people, because they really have zero (or close to zero) interest about my beliefs-- they just want to reaffirm their own belief that Mormonism is wacky by asking me to answer yes or no questions. As a full-time missionary who spent a lot of time knocking doors and street contacting, we'd get questions like that with some frequency. Turns out, people who ask those kinds of questions are almost never interested in genuine discussion.

When people try to play that: "what [regular things] can you not eat?" game, I feel like all they're looking for is validation that vegetarians are nuts because they don't eat steak or soup made with chicken broth, etc. I imagine it's only worse for vegans.

So, look, if you don't know the dietary restrictions that accompany labels like vegan, vegetarian, etc., you could either (a) Google them when you finish reading this blog post, or (b) next time you're with a vegetarian friend, politely make an inquiry as to what they eat. Try asking an open-ended question. Here's a sample conversation: "Jared, I know you are vegetarian. I am not sure what type of foods vegetarians can and cannot eat. Would you mind telling me?"

You might also (non-judgmentally) ask Jared about why he's vegetarian, or about his favorite foods-- you might discover that being vegetarian is not as limiting as you think! There are countless desserts, delicious entrees, and tasty appetizers that vegetarians enjoy. Chances are, non-vegetarians would probably enjoy a few of those dishes, too.

5. Disagree with me, but please don't try to attack my way of life.

My mom and I used to get into huge, heated arguments on politics when I was younger. They usually ended with me in tears and my mother wanting to disown me-- those were painful times. Lately, my mother and I have tried to find middle ground-- and when we can't, we've agreed to disagree. When we try to view political issues from each other's perspective, it is easier to understand why we feel the way we do.

You may not understand why it is important for me to be vegetarian. I believe eating less meat is healthy. I believe by choosing not to purchase meat, I can effect a small, but positive impact on the current meat market. I believe that not eating meat is a morally good thing to do if you believe that animal suffering should be minimized (just look up "factory farms"). And I also believe the vegetarian food is just tastier (because like I said earlier, meat was never my favorite thing to begin with). 

Me and my mom, smiling together in our Hawaii kitchen. 

Do you remember the quote from my mother I used earlier in this article? She has been a lifelong meat eater, but when I told her about my decision to stop eating meat, she said: "you never really liked meat any way." And not in a rude way, but in a, "huh, for you that really makes a lot of sense" kind of way. She tried to understand where I was coming from, and told me that when I visit for Christmas she will make vegetarian food for me. 

And for all of you vegetarians out there: try to be respectful and understanding of your carnivorous friends. We might eat differently, but that doesn't mean we can't be friends!

(Plus, you convince more people with kindness than you do with criticisms).