how do you like your eggs?

You could say that within minutes of landing in the U.S.  I experienced reverse culture shock.  As I was in line to go through security in the Miami airport, I was surrounded by light-skinned people. I didn’t stand out anymore! I also had first-hand experience of the new infamous body-scanners.  Walking through the first-class cabin in my next flight I noticed that about 10 of the 15 first-class passengers had i-Pads and everyone had smart phones. Little did they know that I just spent the last 20 minutes trying to find a pay-phone so I could notify my father about my delayed flight (yes, they still exist). And so it started…

Even after being home for a month, there are things that still surprise me. The streets are so big and clean, I don’t see trash littered anywhere. There are no stray dogs walking by, there are no exhaust-fumes irritating my lungs and eyes.  Side-walks are plentiful yet nobody uses them. I can take my dog on a mile-walk on a residential road and not see another soul outside of their homes, much less walking. Last week my mom walked the mile home from work (by choice) and people thought she needed help. People just don’t walk here.

As part of completely normal reverse culture shock process, one starts to miss things from the host country, sometimes inexplicable things. I miss my bunk bed with a 3-inch foam mattress the sagged in the middle. Sure, it hurt my back all year and I finally had to drag it on the floor each night in order to sleep well, but I still miss it. The bed here is too big, I can roll over 3 times and still not fall off.  I miss the selection of fresh fruit. I miss NOT having an air conditioner, I’m constantly freezing here even though it’s 90 degree weather. I miss the humidity,  it’s too dry here,  a mere 3% humidity yesterday. My face has broken out in protest and my legs are ashier than a fireplace.

But the thing that never fails to shock me is the grocery store. We mostly go to a little place called Wal-Mart, perhaps you’ve heard of it?  Since Wal-Mart came into town a couple years ago, the town’s main grocery store shut-down, it couldn’t compete.  There is just sooo much stuff, it’s mind-boggling. Here the cashier doesn’t greet you by name and ask you what you’ll be making with your ingredients.  Here the cold cereal section takes up an entire aisle, up until a month ago my cereal options were limited to Corn Flakes or generic corn flakes. As I was shopping with my mom, she asked me to get some eggs, it sounded like a simple enough request, but it led to an egg-istential crisis. As I stood in front of the massive refrigerators I was dumbstruck, who knew there were so many different types of eggs? Would I prefer organic eggs? Free-range eggs?  Cage-free eggs? White eggs or brown eggs? A carton of 18 or 12? Maybe 6? Do I want medium eggs? Large eggs? Extra large eggs?  I stand paralyzed with confusion and fear. What if I pick the wrong one? Do I really want to eat a medium sized egg that comes from a poor, imprisoned chicken that was pumped full of antibiotics? If I do, am I contributing to animal cruelty??? After a couple of minutes, I finally go for my go-to method of choosing products;  I chose the cheapest carton and run away.

While I’m searching for my mother in this never ending labyrinth of aisles, displays, and shopping carts,  a voice next to my ear says “Hmm, I wonder what we should have for dinner tonight? “ I turn to see who is talking to me and am startled to see a flat-screen TV instead of a human being.  There are little screens all over the food section ready to entice you to buy a certain product or provide you with dinner ideas. I feel like I’m in the movie Back to the Future.  

 In my search to find my mother, I find a some new products that I’m unfamiliar with, one of them is a bag of dehydrated refried beans. “Just add water,” the package proudly proclaims. It also promises that it will taste just like abuela’s beans. I highly doubt that. The second item I see is cooked bacon. This one really confuses me, why is it in the raw meat section if it’s cooked? Is it really fried already? I look at the package and see that you still have to cook it for a couple of minutes. This place is stuffed full of items of convenience, everything is pre-packaged, pre-cooked, or just add-water. How lazy are people, I think to myself in shock.

At first I almost revere these inventions, look how far we’ve come! But then I bitterly remember the hours spent in my small kitchen in Honduras trying to make the simplest of meals with my two-burner mini stove and microwave oven. Rice and beans? You have to plan that a day ahead, soak the beans overnight and cook then the next day for at least an hour and a half. Pizza? Sure, make the dough, roll it out, let it rise, chop up tomatoes, garlic and onions for the sauce, cook on the stove with spices and then add it to the pizza and bake it in the microwave oven. But then I realized most people here wouldn’t have the slightest idea of how to make an entire meal without the help of a can or some sort of mix, and it kinda makes me sad.

I heard in the news a couple weeks ago that American spend only 30 minutes a day cooking meals, well below the global average of 52 minutes. With so much pre-packaged food, it’s easy to believe. But what can I say, I too love food and must admit that it is nice to have so many culinary options at my fingertips. I guess I’m just trying to find a middle-ground in a land notorious for its excess. Wish me luck...

  

Quote of the day:

Remembrance of things past is not necessarily the remembrance of things as they were.

-Marcel Proust