I was taught to eat durian by my father at the age of 4. Peeping into the kitchen late one evening, I saw my parents crouched on the floor over a makseshift carpet of newspapers, energetically ripping the husks of a stinky green fruit apart. I was more amazed with the enthusiasm of my parents towards their activity than the fruit itself. My father happened to look up and saw me watching quietly from the kitchen door, he beckoned me to come over to have a look.
Casting a glance at my mother to check that it was alright to be out of bed at that hour, I decided that the coast was fairly clear and proceeded over. At that point, my dad had just opened a husk and grabbed a small piece. He made out as if he was demonstrating how he was going to eat it, but instead shoved it into my mouth. I didn’t know what to expect and so decided to give this alien item a chance.
Those chances still keep coming.