Mango Seed

7 min readSep 3, 2024

What is your first mango memory?

My mom ate a lot of cherries when she was pregnant with me. She has no recollection of me and mangoes. I don’t have childhood memories of me, her, and mangoes either. My memories of mangoes are from time spent with my dad in Egypt. My first memory of mangoes is from my summers spent in Egypt, where the hottest month is August, and it can get up to 104 degrees Fahrenheit (40 degrees Celsius).

I recall fresh mango and sugar cane juice stands on every corner during the summer heat. I couldn’t get enough fresh juice. I remember going from one juice stand to the next as we ran errands around town. These juice stands are popular in the summer during the mango season. There is no other fruit I have a vivid first memory of.

My mom’s first mango memory is in Guyana. She remembers mango achar on the dining room table. Her grandfather used to make mango and lime achar. Achar adds a tangy, sweet, and salty heat on Guyanese dishes such as dal with rice. I had no idea my great-grandfather made mango achar until I asked my mom about her first mango memory.

My grandmother doesn’t have a first mango memory but remembers the mango tree. My grandmother grew up in Guyana, with 26 coconut trees, a mango tree, and a guava tree in the backyard. I had no idea she grew up with a tropical fruit heaven in her backyard until I asked her about her first mango memory.

In July, my grandmother sent me a box of Black Spice mangoes from Guyana growing in her childhood friend’s backyard in Florida. They had an overflow and gave mangoes away to people in the neighborhood. My grandmother offered to send me a box. It was my first time having Black Spice mangoes– fresh off the tree and shipped directly to me over 2,000 miles to my front door. They were delicious, and my taste buds were in heaven.

Not all mangoes are created equal, but they rarely disappoint. Depending on their roots, they vary in color, shape, stringiness, and sweetness, depending on the mango seed. It is uncertain how many variations of mango exist. It is estimated to be between 500–1,000. Mangoes are delicious, bright, and juicy. Their sweet smell will let you know when they are ripe and ready. Eating a mango activates your five senses. It’s a full-body eating experience. I’m not on my phone or sitting in front of the television eating a mango. The fruit calls 100% of my attention to be fully present while eating and enjoying it. My favorite way to eat a mango is intimately over the sink, the sticky mango juice running down my arm as I eat around the seed. Cleaning up and washing off when eaten over the sink is efficient. There aren’t many fruits or foods that are enjoyed in their pure form.

I am grateful mangoes are rooted across my ancestry. Mangoes bring cultures together. Mangoes are a physical representation of my Guyanese and Egyptian ancestry. There is nothing abstract about a mango. Mangoes connect us to the past and present day. Few things can be experienced through nature that connect us back to our roots, such as fruits, spices, and foods.

In many parts of the world, mangoes are known as the “king of fruits.” Mangoes originated over 5,000 years ago in the Hindo-Berma region, which extends from eastern India and southern China across Southeast Asia. Around 300 A.D., mango seeds traveled from Asia to the Middle East, East Africa, and South America. The cultivation of mangoes moved westward with the spice trade. Legend says that Buddha meditated under the cool shade of a mango tree. The mango tree represents spirituality. In India, the mango is a symbol of love. Mango is the national fruit of India and the national tree of Bangladesh is a mango tree. The paisley pattern, developed in India, is based on the shape of a mango. I had no idea of the connection when getting my paisley tattoo on my hand. Mangoes have a rich symbolic meaning in ancient literature and poetry that varies across cultures and contexts. Mangoes symbolize love, prosperity, and enlightenment, among other interpretations.

Earlier this year, I became an entrepreneur and named my Coaching and Consulting LLC, Name Dipped In Mango. The name is a line from my poem, titled Mona (reference at the bottom of the page). My company name represents our global connection with the symbolism of a mango. It was important for me to have a company name that included the word “Mango” because people worldwide can connect with their own memories of mangoes. My parents are from different continents, and each has a connection with mangoes growing up in Guyana and Egypt in different ways.

I also chose it because mangoes connect us; they are inclusive. No classism exists around mangoes, but they are regionally based on where they can grow. Different regions don’t have mangoes that are easily accessible.

The letters of my name mirror the letters used to spell the word Mango, except for the “g.” It’s not just my name — my whole being is dipped in mango. Mango and Mona are connected in more ways than I realized. My parents gave me my Arabic name that means wish. And I am giving Mona a meaning, and it is symbolic of mangoes. It’s like a rebirth through the seed being planted in a new environment with a wish to grow to become something. I am the mango seed. I am love and freedom intertwined.

My love for mangoes keeps me grounded in my roots while connecting with others. Meanwhile, growing up what mattered most was being accepted by the majority. In my environment, I could blend in. Growing up in my neighborhood, people assumed I was Mexican, and in college, people assumed I was Indian. But I don’t care about blending in and being accepted for survival’s sake anymore. I care more about being rooted in my ancestry. Growing up, I couldn’t lean into my individuality. I was connecting with my friends based on the environment we grew up in, not my ancestral roots. Poetry and journaling are where I see my roots commonly exposed on the page. I can’t escape who I am, nor do I want to.

Mangoes symbolize identity between past and present — seeds, trees, bearing fruit. Mangoes represent a connection to the land, traditional customs, and community.

In high school, I read the book The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros. In her novel, she tells stories about growing up as a Latina in Chicago. Cisneros writes about the inner life of a young girl navigating the challenges of adolescence and cultural identity. When I read the book, I was drawn to the stories about her identity, culture, gender, and struggles to find one’s place in the world. I could relate to her story of seeking my place in the world. Through my writing, I share my stories and invite others to connect and share their stories, too.

When I own my first home, I want to plant a mango tree in the backyard.

What tree do you want to plant in your backyard?

What does it take to open our eyes to what is on our table the whole time to be present to it?

Growing up, I assumed everyone had experienced a mango as an everyday fruit, as commonplace as an apple or an orange. But as I started to ask people about their mango memories, a pattern emerged: People had vivid childhood mango memories and were excited to reflect on, capture, and retell their stories.

“Thank you for facilitating an opportunity to journey back to such a wonderful, rich childhood memory. I and people who know me know mango is my absolute favorite fruit but this gave me an opportunity to explore how/when the love of mango began and celebrate its forever presence in my life decades later. No other fruit compares, but that initial experience led to an important life lesson for me to be open to try and experience new things and opportunities. You may fall in love if you try it!”

In my conversations and survey, few people encountered mangoes later in life. When first experienced later in life, mangoes are often described as “hidden treasure.” Below are people sharing their first mango memories across cultures and geographies: