Thursday, October 2, 2008
Drat.
Oh, threaded comments. Threaded comments, how I will miss you. But the program that was threading my comments was apparently making it impossible to get alerts, so comments were going entirely unnoticed by me. So I reverted to the old template and discovered that wiped all the old comments, so I'm in a bit of comment mourning at the moment. *mopes*
A culture-shock moment to make the post more worth reading: we went out to dinner with our neighborhood to a Chinese buffet. There were plates and plates of...stuff, heaped high with...things. All entirely unlabeled. And Dan and I were the only people unfazed by this--everyone else just happily ate anything that looked kind of interesting. Only Dan and I poked at everything and debated: "Is this fish? Chicken? It's not tripe, is it?" (We ordered tripe by accident once. It's...chewy). When we asked our neighbors, they shrugged and kept eating: "Why do you even ask?"
Our Japanese friends seem able to consume just about everything without knowing or caring what it is. I would blame our squeamish caution on growing up in a country that's hyper-aware of food allergies, but I think it's really just a need to know what it is we're putting in our mouths.
At the other extreme, there's a lot less squeamishness here about detailing exactly where one's food comes from. Groceries usually have cute little anthropomorphic pictures of the animals in question--"Hi, I'm Kimiko Cow, and the flesh you see in front of you belonged to me!" We went to a pork cutlet restaurant only to find it festooned with pictures of Babe, the adorable pig. Talk about off-putting!
In English, of course, we even distance ourselves from our meat linguistically--we don't eat cows, pigs, and sheep, we eat beef, pork, and mutton. Baby cows are veal. We don't like to think about those baby cows at all, much less have them hawking themselves to us in the supermarket. There's a wonderful scene in Douglass Adam's "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" where the main character goes to an exotic intergalactic restaurant and is confronted by a talking cow-waiter explaining which parts of itself were particularly tender tonight. After the rest of the table orders the cow says "I'll just nip off and shoot myself now" and wanders off after reassuring the horrified main character, "Don't worry, sir, I'll be very humane." It's hysterically funny, but in a very black sort of way, and touches on a truth about Western eating--we usually don't like to be faced with the reality that we're taking a life to sustain our own.
A culture-shock moment to make the post more worth reading: we went out to dinner with our neighborhood to a Chinese buffet. There were plates and plates of...stuff, heaped high with...things. All entirely unlabeled. And Dan and I were the only people unfazed by this--everyone else just happily ate anything that looked kind of interesting. Only Dan and I poked at everything and debated: "Is this fish? Chicken? It's not tripe, is it?" (We ordered tripe by accident once. It's...chewy). When we asked our neighbors, they shrugged and kept eating: "Why do you even ask?"
Our Japanese friends seem able to consume just about everything without knowing or caring what it is. I would blame our squeamish caution on growing up in a country that's hyper-aware of food allergies, but I think it's really just a need to know what it is we're putting in our mouths.
At the other extreme, there's a lot less squeamishness here about detailing exactly where one's food comes from. Groceries usually have cute little anthropomorphic pictures of the animals in question--"Hi, I'm Kimiko Cow, and the flesh you see in front of you belonged to me!" We went to a pork cutlet restaurant only to find it festooned with pictures of Babe, the adorable pig. Talk about off-putting!
In English, of course, we even distance ourselves from our meat linguistically--we don't eat cows, pigs, and sheep, we eat beef, pork, and mutton. Baby cows are veal. We don't like to think about those baby cows at all, much less have them hawking themselves to us in the supermarket. There's a wonderful scene in Douglass Adam's "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" where the main character goes to an exotic intergalactic restaurant and is confronted by a talking cow-waiter explaining which parts of itself were particularly tender tonight. After the rest of the table orders the cow says "I'll just nip off and shoot myself now" and wanders off after reassuring the horrified main character, "Don't worry, sir, I'll be very humane." It's hysterically funny, but in a very black sort of way, and touches on a truth about Western eating--we usually don't like to be faced with the reality that we're taking a life to sustain our own.
// posted by Jennifer @ 11:58 PM 
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Oh no! Double drat! I see what you mean: ALL the comments are gone. So sad.
We must all write incredibly pithy comments to fill the gaps.... But I'm not up for it right now.
I remember after Babe came saying, "Let's eat Babe!" whenever I ate pork, which I love.
Somehow your Jpnese niehgbors' lack of worry about food reminds me of how you wrote that Jpnese colleagues (was it?) thought it was odd that Americans would feel life was "unfair" if someone died young.
Is there an equanimity there, an acceptance that things are what they are?
I could see how liberating and charming this could be; I can also imagine it might lead to a lack of rebelliousness, for better or worse. Do you see either of that around you?
Americans, like Capt. Kirk, are hardly equanimous, but some of us do have his commando spirit, which I admire, (though it tips into bullying if it's not checked-- which too often it's not, the rational Mr. Spock being mostly absent from the national psyche).
We must all write incredibly pithy comments to fill the gaps.... But I'm not up for it right now.
I remember after Babe came saying, "Let's eat Babe!" whenever I ate pork, which I love.
Somehow your Jpnese niehgbors' lack of worry about food reminds me of how you wrote that Jpnese colleagues (was it?) thought it was odd that Americans would feel life was "unfair" if someone died young.
Is there an equanimity there, an acceptance that things are what they are?
I could see how liberating and charming this could be; I can also imagine it might lead to a lack of rebelliousness, for better or worse. Do you see either of that around you?
Americans, like Capt. Kirk, are hardly equanimous, but some of us do have his commando spirit, which I admire, (though it tips into bullying if it's not checked-- which too often it's not, the rational Mr. Spock being mostly absent from the national psyche).
Is there an equanimity there, an acceptance that things are what they are?
You know, it does feel rather connected! "The food in front of us is what we have, and it would be silly to waste energy being picky about it." I think there's also still some effect from the war and food shortages then, a generation of people grew up with parents who really meant it when they said "You should be happy you have anything at all." Dan's mother remembers pouring rice dust onto paper and picking out the insects so they could use it to make gruel...after that if it's cooked and edible I guess you eat it.
One of the most Japanese of sayings, supposedly, is "Shikata ga nai," which means roughly, "Well, it can't be helped." To be said whenever something is unfortunate or unfair but hey, what can you do? It's a very fatalistic attitude, which is both good and bad--there's a resignation to both the small injustices of life that need to be glossed over to live, and the large injustices that need to be fought. (Where that line actually is drawn depends on the person, of course).
You know, it does feel rather connected! "The food in front of us is what we have, and it would be silly to waste energy being picky about it." I think there's also still some effect from the war and food shortages then, a generation of people grew up with parents who really meant it when they said "You should be happy you have anything at all." Dan's mother remembers pouring rice dust onto paper and picking out the insects so they could use it to make gruel...after that if it's cooked and edible I guess you eat it.
One of the most Japanese of sayings, supposedly, is "Shikata ga nai," which means roughly, "Well, it can't be helped." To be said whenever something is unfortunate or unfair but hey, what can you do? It's a very fatalistic attitude, which is both good and bad--there's a resignation to both the small injustices of life that need to be glossed over to live, and the large injustices that need to be fought. (Where that line actually is drawn depends on the person, of course).
Interesting.
I saw that sort of attitude as I read about the nonindustrially developed Middle East--the sense of "inshallah" = "as God wills"--which leads to both a beautiful acceptance and a kind of atrocious lack of effort to change things that can be changed...
Closer to home, I see it in myself--when should I just say, well, that's the way it is, and when should I try to change it?
You know the St. Francis prayer used in 12-step AA :
"God grant me the courage to change the things I can, the serenity to accept the things I can't, and the wisdom to know the difference" ?
I think it's interesting that in America this is called the Serenity Prayer--I think because what we are most lacking is serenity----we've got John Wayne "We can change" energy in spades, but little of the calm acceptance that limitations are real and respecting them might be a good thing.
As our economic shambles displays...
And "wisdom". Ha! Not even on our radar.
I speak in gross generalizations about our nationality, of course...
I saw that sort of attitude as I read about the nonindustrially developed Middle East--the sense of "inshallah" = "as God wills"--which leads to both a beautiful acceptance and a kind of atrocious lack of effort to change things that can be changed...
Closer to home, I see it in myself--when should I just say, well, that's the way it is, and when should I try to change it?
You know the St. Francis prayer used in 12-step AA :
"God grant me the courage to change the things I can, the serenity to accept the things I can't, and the wisdom to know the difference" ?
I think it's interesting that in America this is called the Serenity Prayer--I think because what we are most lacking is serenity----we've got John Wayne "We can change" energy in spades, but little of the calm acceptance that limitations are real and respecting them might be a good thing.
As our economic shambles displays...
And "wisdom". Ha! Not even on our radar.
I speak in gross generalizations about our nationality, of course...
Interesting.
I do recall once, while attending a debate tournament as coach, seeing (with my students) a TV commercial for a local Kentucky fried chicken restaurant as were heading out the door. (No, not KFC) The commercial starred an animated chicken talking about how good 'he' would taste, whereupon he reclined on a pan, slid himself into the oven, and than came out of the oven, ah... breaded. "Boy am I lip smacking tasty!"
We were all suitably horrified.
I do recall once, while attending a debate tournament as coach, seeing (with my students) a TV commercial for a local Kentucky fried chicken restaurant as were heading out the door. (No, not KFC) The commercial starred an animated chicken talking about how good 'he' would taste, whereupon he reclined on a pan, slid himself into the oven, and than came out of the oven, ah... breaded. "Boy am I lip smacking tasty!"
We were all suitably horrified.
# posted by 
: October 6, 2008 at 12:11 PM
: October 6, 2008 at 12:11 PM
Fresca--the St. Francis prayer is one of those things that sound trite but then when I think about it it has this beautiful, wistful simplicity, like...ah, that really is all it would take, isn't it? It makes it sound almost within reach and I do love it for that.
Paul--No way, lol. I cannot believe a commercial like that tested well. :) But I guess they're out there! We went to a tempura restaurant for a business meeting with a relative stranger from San Diego a few days ago and they brought over the plate of freshly-killed seafood (the shrimp were still alive, I believe) to show us before frying. We were all like "Okay, I didn't need to see that." Lobsters are one of the last things that I believe Americans will watch killed and then consume with gusto, although even that is becoming more rare.
Paul--No way, lol. I cannot believe a commercial like that tested well. :) But I guess they're out there! We went to a tempura restaurant for a business meeting with a relative stranger from San Diego a few days ago and they brought over the plate of freshly-killed seafood (the shrimp were still alive, I believe) to show us before frying. We were all like "Okay, I didn't need to see that." Lobsters are one of the last things that I believe Americans will watch killed and then consume with gusto, although even that is becoming more rare.
Tree words: Tree of Meat.
That's all I'm saying.
Also: DON'T BOIL THE LOBSTEEERSSSSSSS!!! ;o;
I'm grumpy and missing you! lalalaaa
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That's all I'm saying.
Also: DON'T BOIL THE LOBSTEEERSSSSSSS!!! ;o;
I'm grumpy and missing you! lalalaaa
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