In 1957 my research partner and I drove into a tiny, almost roadless village along the Pacific coast of Chiapas, in Mexico. In the back of our truck we had a big stalk of bananas, just getting ripe. We passed some out as a way of saying hello and started to eat some ourselves. Man, woman and child, the Zapotec-speaking folks in the village began to laugh at us - uproariously - at the stem-end way we were peeling our bananas. I've peeled them from the blossom-end ever since.!