The Green Banana My encounter with the green banana started on a steep mountain road in Brazil. My ancient jeep was zigzagging when the radiator began to leak. I stopped at the next village, where people gathered to look. Three fine streams of hot water spouted from holes in the radiator. “That’s easy to fix,” a man said. He sent a boy running for some green bananas. We exchanged pleasantries while I mulled over the green banana. Asking questions would seems silly, so I remarked on the beauty of the mountain. “Do you see that tall one right over there?” asked my benefactor, pointing to a particular tall, slender pinnacle of dark rock. “That rock marks the center of the world.” I looked to see if he were teasing me, but his face was serious. He in turn inspected me carefully to be sure I grasped the significance of his statement. The occasion demanded some show of recognition on my part. “The center of the world?” I repeated, trying to convey interest if not complete acceptance. He nodded. “The absolute center.”