“Expect the Unexpected.” What? No, I don’t know how to do that. “Have no expectations.” I don’t know how to do that either. It’s so funny, how you take things for granted and don’t realize that you have a set level of expectations about things. I remember during my staging event in DC, before I came to Bolivia, and they asked us what the most important thing to integration within a new culture would be. The options were something like Communication, Acceptance by the new community, Understanding the new culture, and Understanding your own culture. I don’t know which you picked, but I did not pick the right answer- understanding your own culture. I am now starting to get a better grasp of what it is. I did grow up in a mix of cultures- Vietnamese and American- but I am finding that there are many things about me that are strictly American.
Let’s return to the expectations topic. It’s reasonable I think, to expect that when you buy a three-piece speaker set that all three pieces will work, right? Or that if you buy a brand new phone, after running around for a week because every single shop is closed for the holiday, and then for the weekend, and then because they don’t feel like opening yet, that you could expect the charger to work, right? Or that when you sit down at a restaurant and open the menu, the things listed would be available. Or at the very least, you could get your second choice. But no, I’m not talking third choice either; it falls to the fourth or fifth choice. Which is equal to saying that of what is on the menu, really only two items are available and they are just waiting until you decide you want one of the two.
Other expectations: I guess I never really thought about it, but I thought I knew food. For example, we all know what a zucchini is, right? I thought I did. I went to the market the other day after a week of not enough sleep, an overnight bus ride of 12 hrs, and then another 3 hr ride to my site. All I wanted was a little fruit, and maybe a little food to make a quick stir-fry. I decide to hit the market and at the first stand I see when I enter, the lady immediately pegs me as a tourist. She starts offering food, and pretty much anything she offered I bought. Onions? Yes. Garlic? Sure. It went on for awhile and she’s laughing at me because I had taken Dramamine and didn’t really know what was going on. I explain to her that I just moved in that day and I was tired and couldn’t think straight, so I really appreciated all her help. She continues to offer me things and I continue to buy, up until she offers me a zucchini. And I look at her like she’s crazy and I’m like, “You have no zucchini here.” And she says, “Yes I do, here you go.” I look at what she hands me and I’m like, “I’m sorry, you handed me a squash.” “No, it’s zucchini.” “No…this is a SQUASH!” “No, it’s ZUCCHINI!” At this point I take a moment to inspect this thing I’m holding. If you added a little green, instead of the pale beige, and shrunk it by about half its size, then yes, I could imagine a zucchini. So I say, “Thanks! I love zucchini!”
Then I move to the next stand and look for a watermelon. I ask if the lady has watermelon and she looks at me strangely and points to a huge stack right in front of me of what looks exactly like honeydew, and says to me, “It’s right there.”
Then today I decide that I want to make some fresh lemonade. But Vietnamese make their lemonade from limes. So you would believe it, I go and ask for some lemons, not knowing the word for limes. I find that the limes look like lemons, lemons look like oranges, and oranges are actually mandarins. So if I want to buy a lime, it’s a “lima.” Or so I thought. I was so excited to make my limade and I go and squeeze all my limes, add sugar and water, and what I tasted when I was finished was a very bland orange juice.
There are many other things I am learning about my culture. We love gadgets. How do you make toast without a toaster? How do you reheat food with no microwave? I was pretty much resigned to eating fried rice the day after making rice, cause when I tried to heat it up in a pan, it turned into fried rice. It’s not like I’m a spoiled American (I don’t think), it’s just that I’ve never lived without a microwave! I sat totally perplexed for the entire day, wondering how I would ever heat up left-overs or if I would just have to learn to cook perfect portions. Fortunately, my mom calls that night and I start asking her the most ridiculous questions. Whilst laughing at me, she explains to me how to heat up food, how to make toaster, how to get rid of ants without repellent, and a host of other issues. Of course she has the answers, she grew up in Vietnam! How wonderful for me to have such a resource! Now I do not have to eat fried rice every day of my life!!!
Another point to contemplate- Do Americans realize how much we differentiate between products? How many types of toilet paper, toothpaste, shampoo, etc can exist? I didn’t realize I had been so desensitized to this aspect of life until the market. The market teaches me many things. You probably don’t want to hear about them all, but for my own amusement I will tell you about buying milk. You can then substitute milk with hand soap, or even clothes hangers and you will see how I myself make my life too difficult. All cause of this product differentiation that I never thought twice about.
The other day, I was in the market and needed milk. In the U.S. I am a skim milk drinker. I ask for milk and was handed whole milk. I ask, (because I have to ask, at least the first time) if perhaps, maybe, by chance there might be anything other than whole milk. So I ask the lady if she has milk with less fat. I’m not asking for skim, 2% or 1% would do. She looks at me smiling and says, “Yes, I have another milk.” And proceeds to hand me another bag of whole milk, albeit a different brand. I look at it and think, “This is whole milk as well.” At this point I am resigned to buying whole milk, and I look at the lady and say thanks and pay for the bag. I then proceed to another convenience store where I buy chocolate whole milk, because if I can’t have skim, I might as well make sure it tastes good!
P.S. If you haven’t tried whole milk in awhile, I recommend it. It’s actually quite delicious, especially heated up and with a bit of sugar added. Tastes just like the condensed milk mixed with hot water I used to drink as a kid when I watched my dad drink condensed milk with his coffee. But being too young for coffee, I got water instead. Oh, the memories Bolivia can bring back. And the new set of experiences that you never though you’d like, you now love.
I now also eat avocado, onions, and for a moment actually considered going vegetarian. It’s not hard when the meat you can buy comes with heads and livers intact, and they hang in the hot sun at the market. Yum.
