Look at them from Side A, and they look fine. But roll them over, prop them up a little with a wooden spoon, so they don’t flop down, and Side B looks quite different.
Side B’s side reveals that these two bananas, over about 80 percent of their lengths, actually share a common back cover or skin. They, in turn, constitute my very first set of conjoined bananas.
Sure, double yolk eggs are not uncommon and I even liked to see the two-headed snake on display in a glass case at the California Academy of Sciences’ reptile room in Golden Gate Park. But conjoined bananas!
I’ve been consuming bananas and buying them in the produce section at one grocery store or another for a long, long time. But I’ve never before laid eyes on, or even heard of, conjoined bananas. Have I been living in some sort of banana-experience darkened hollow, where the light never shines on these kinds of banana occurrences? Do others see conjoined bananas all over the place?
I’ve named them (as my post’s title suggests) Eng and Chang. (If you don’t know who Eng and Chang were, please consult Wikipedia.)
I don’t know, of course, whether they’d be happier if they were surgically separated. This would require an operation by a qualified specialist. I’m certainly not going to risk it myself. And I don’t think we have that sort of fruit vet up here in North Idaho. (I’ll have to check the web.)
For all I know, they are perfectly happy bananas the way they are. They don’t appear overly bruised or browned by their life experience so far. Naturally, I’m curious to know whether the interior fleshes of these two bananas are also conjoined — making them, arguably, one banana, albeit with two, well, banana exteriors.
Stay tuned for updates — that is, more specifically, until tomorrow morning, when I’ll make coffee and settle in for a banana (or two) with breakfast.