One day during our visit, we were escorted to several small projects managed by the civilian development agency affiliated with the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF). After several rather tense meetings in which much was lost in the chain of translation from Azeri to English to Tagalog to Maguindanao or Maranao and vice versa, the group treated itself to a stop at a “durian park” outside of General Santos City. Aside from the requisite macaque-in-chains, which is apparently ubiquitous in the rural Philippines, our moods were lightened by posing for photos in front of giant durian statues. We also saw a stand of durian trees, and learned fun facts about the fruit.
Upon arriving back in General Santos City, we dropped the weary Azeris off at the hotel and went off to meet our MILF colleagues in front of a small durian shack on a secluded side street near the center of town. They had broken their fast, and were ready for a serious durian session. The purveyor of the shack laid out a plastic table and chairs in a damp hallway lit by a lone lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. He brought out fruit after fruit for our consumption. We were treated to the “native” and ransilia varities. I found the fruit of the native variety to be larger, paler in color, and milder in flavor. The ransilia was smaller, darker, and packed quite a punch. At times the group would send back fruits if the overall quality wasn’t up to scratch.
For the first 10 minutes or so I matched my friends in the pace of consumption as we tackled the native variety. I hadn’t eaten since morning, and had developed a strong appetite over the course of the long, hot day. My Filipino friends marveled at my apparent lust for durian. My pace dropped markedly as the powerful ransilia pieces started coming out. Nevertheless, I played my part as the group wolfed down 12 kilos of fruit in our dank durian lair. I paid a price for consuming such a large quantity of durian on an empty stomach, as the durian stench lingered on my skin and in my nostrils for days afterwards.
Unwittingly, I had been initiated into the ranks of durian junkies. And like a true addict, I forced the Azeris to stop at Manny Pacquiao’s coffee shop for a durian cappuccino before leaving General Santos City for Manila.
Durian is available at many Asian specialty grocers throughout Ohio.
On November 12th, 2010 @ 10:38:am,
eek ! the terror and scourge of my childhood in a Thai family ! The 'Royal Fruit of Thailand', and definitely an acquired texture, taste and ..er... bouquet. I am however in a lifelong love affair with another Thai lovely : the Mangosteen. All the plusses of Durian, none of the wackiness. Although it has its own quirks, one being it looks a lot like a gorgeous eggplant purple-coloured leather Cricket Ball. .. Durian is referred to as 'The King of Fruit" ... and the slightly less dramatic Mangosteen is dubbed 'The Queen of Fruit", and for good reasons. Long Live the Queen !