Story by Alejandro Gomez, Summer 2020
A fig is a fruit that I had heard a lot about as I was growing up, my father talked about the sweet center and how it reminded him of Mexico. My father’s childhood was difficult because he had to help his father support his family. He started working at the age of 9 and he rarely had time to be a kid because he was always working or in class. One of the ways that he got to relax was by buying fruit from the local fruit stands that were abundant in Guadalajara. One of the fruits that he loved to buy was Higo, or fig. The sweet and soft fruit was something that made my father appreciate the little things because he found joy in taking a break to consume the fruit. Whenever he had the chance to buy that fruit, he would, but my father left Mexico at the age of 18. Since he left almost 40 years ago he hasn’t been able to find or buy figs. As he told me his many stories of the fig I still wasn’t able to connect the image with my own experiences.
This changed when I joined the Heritage Garden in 2019. As I was helping the group plant one day, I was intrigued by the small round fruit that hung from a short tree, I asked “what is this?” and to my excitement, I learned that it was a fig tree. I went home that day and told my dad that the garden had a fig tree, and the first thing he asked was “can you bring me one?” Throughout the year I was able to see the fig tree grow, but the fruit didn’t seem to be coming out or ripening. I was disappointed because I wasn’t able to share the fruit with my father. But at the end of the summer I received the news that there was one fig that made it and it was ready to eat. I tried it in the Latino Cultural Center and it was just as I imagined it when my father explained it to me. The skin was a colorful purple and green and the interior was soft and sweet. I went home with the news and my dad kept saying “I told you so!” But the real excitement came when the garden informed me that I would be able to take a fig tree home with me. My father was elated, and we began to set up a place to put this tree to keep over the winter. To this day we still care for it and we are waiting anxiously for the fruit to ripen. The fig has made my father and I connect more because now I can imagine an aspect of his life that I couldn’t before.