Actual Mission Stories: Sakhu

Sakhu

Location: Chiang Mai, Thailand

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Date: April 1971 (Story by Duane R. Hurst, © October 1973)

[NOTE: This story is based on actual events, but I changed the names of other people involved.]

      A regular activity for missionaries in our small Chiang Mai district was to home teach members. We paired off with the few Thai priesthood holders whenever possible, but often had to make visits without them. Elder Barnes and I were scheduled to meet several members on the same spring evening, including a girl named Suphatra. She was a cute, typically scatterbrained 15-year-old. She also was a dedicated member who frequently asked us to teach her family, relatives and friends.

      On that particular night after our message of the month, she wanted to talk about her mother. Sister Suphatra related how she first became converted and finally received her mother's permission to be baptized. She even gave us a written copy of her testimony. It was a fine discussion.

      However, before we could leave sister Suphatra told us to wait. She had prepared a Thai dessert for us--sakhu. I had no idea what it was. Poof! She disappeared in a flash. I looked at Elder Barnes and asked him what sakhu was. He didn't know either. We soon found out.

      The mysterious sakhu arrived. It was a colorful dessert--long strings of pink and white gelatin, crushed ice, some coconut milk, and the chief ingredient. I stared at it and glanced up at sister Suphatra.

      "Is this sakhu?" I asked while pointing at the strange globs. She smiled sweetly and affirmed that it was.

      Again I stared at the suspicious globs, which floated ominously in the melting ice. I stirred them with a spoon and watched as several orbs stuck to the gelatin. They looked like frog eggs! I stirred once more, only to see more eggs stick to the stringy gelatin and others to swirl around the crushed ice.

      I learned long before that a missionary teaching in a foreign land has plenty of opportunities to eat strange foods. I had already eaten such exotic delicacies as stewed chicken feet, shark fin and bird nest soup (made from bird saliva), stuffed squid and numerous other dishes. I had good sense to eat without asking what they were. One of my favorites was pork balls and thin noodle soup, with lots of hot peppers and fish sauce.

      It looked like my stomach was in for another local treat. I hoped the taste buds wouldn't object to the frog eggs (they looked to be raw). I knew we had to eat every bite; sister Suphatra always insisted that Elders eat all she gave them.

      I reckoned small bites would prolong an expected ordeal, so I took a big spoonful of the odious eggs and swallowed. They tasted much better than I had expected. In fact, I ate with more gusto than was hoped. No--a sakhu refill was turned down.

      When we finally got home I immediately looked in the dictionary to learn whether or not sakhu was frog eggs. I laughed and felt somewhat relieved to know that it was tapioca.