Eating in america

Cai Nengying

American restaurants are all the same. They prepare food in only three ways: boiled in water, grilled, and deep-fried; apart from these there is no other variety. Then, on the table a lot of "condiments" are served so that customers can make things as sweet, salty, sour, or peppery as they like. All over the whole country food stands on the street sell the same hot dogs, hamburgers, sandwiches, french fries, and so on; wherever you go the taste is the same. Especially for someone who has just arrived in America, the sight of a hot dog drip­ping with red tomato sauce and yellow mustard is enough to take your appetite away. But when you are hungry, there is nothing to do but close your eyes and swallow it. Hamburg­ers are even worse: semiraw beef with a slice of raw onion and a slice of raw tomato, and then some hamburger sauce—one dares not try it. Sandwiches sound good, but are in fact bland and tasteless. So eating is the most troublesome aspect [of living in America].

Being invited to dinner is a big treat for Americans, but I find it a painful assignment. First, I cannot get used to eating sweet and salty things together. Second, terrible-tasting food must be praised to the skies. Third, it is not filling, and you have to make yourself another meal after going home.

One time a colleague said to my husband, Fan Guangling, "My father is a good cook and invites you two to have a taste of his culinary skill this weekend." It would have been embarrassing to refuse, so we had to accept. The meal turned out to be canned chicken with vegetables and rice, which tasted funny. Following this dish was a dessert of cored apples stuffed with plum jam and coated in sugar. Eating it made me feel like vomiting, but I had to say, "Delicious! Delicious!" It was unspeakably painful.

Often when we were invited to dinner by Americans I felt that they were not inviting us to eat but to look at the tableware. They do not use rice bowls. At the beginning of the meal the table is set with three plates for each person, three glasses, knife, fork, big spoon, and little spoon. The big spoon is seldom used, however, for they do not drink soup but lots of cold water, so the glasses see much service. The first course is usually raw salad or fruit salad, followed by bread and butter. After that some strange-looking and odd-tasting little dishes are served while people eat and talk. Then comes the main course, usually a piece of chicken or steak or a slice of ham, with a few fried potatoes, and some peas, or whatever, boiled to a pulp. When this is finished dessert is served, fruit pie or ice cream and cake, which is murder to eat for it is tasteless. Moreover, it is not a lot of food in the end, but just a lot of dishes and silverware on the table. Last comes coffee or tea. American tea is a bag of tea leaves in a cup of hot water, at which point the dinner is considered over. Then you are invited into the living room to talk for two or three hours. The foreigners talk and laugh, and we Chinese do not understand what is being said. It is really unbearably painful. That is why I find eating American meals most troublesome.

Cai Nengying, who was from Taiwan, was the wife of a graduate student. This excerpt is from her article "A Housewife Staying in America Talks about Household Matters."

Reading Comprehension

1. How does the author feel about hot dogs, hamburgers, and sandwiches?

2. Why is being invited to dinner in an American home a painful assignment for the author?

3. What does the author think about the amount of food at an American meal?

4. Why doesn't the author enjoy being invited into the living room to talk for two or three hours?

5. What is your opinion about American food? Which American foods do you like the best?

CULTURE SHOCK ON RETURNING TO AMERICA

J. Peter Schineller

It took me more than six months to readjust to American culture, and even after that, I was never fully at home. What was this other side? What did I see that I didn't like?

Everyone was concerned that I would suffer culture shock when I went to Nigeria in 1981. Could I adjust to that foreign culture? Was it safe? Would I ever adapt? The adjustment for me, however, was surprisingly easy. No one at that time spoke about the culture shock when you return home. And yet, for me it was far more difficult, far more painful and time-consuming, to readjust to American culture than it was to go from the United States to Africa. When I say this to friends, they are amazed, and in many ways so am I. Yet for me it is a clear, indisputable fact. Moreover, most foreign missionaries would agree with this view, that the reentry to the United States is more painful than the entry from America to Africa or Latin America.

How do I explain it? What was so difficult in returning home? Why such a slow re­adjustment? I have tried to reflect on this, and now at a distance of a few years, when I am settled back in Africa, I will try to express what I saw and felt.

First of all, I must say that there are many wonderful aspects of American society. It is always good to get back to U.S. soil, and I look forward to my next home visit. Telephones work, television has an amazing variety of programs, transportation systems can be relied upon, stores and shopping centers usually have whatever you want in stock, business and legal systems can, for the most part, be trusted. Things usually work, or if they are broken, can be readily repaired. The melting pot is a reality in the major cities, where peoples of various races and creeds live and work together.

And yet, it took me more than six months to readjust to American culture, and even after that, I was never fully at home. What was this other side? What did I see that 1 didn't like? What did I miss?

Perhaps the best way to depict the shock or difficulty of reentry is to set forth a series of vignettes, with some comments. . . .

Children. In Cambridge, Mass., I used to walk back and forth from school along Brattle Street, 20 minutes each way. It is a historic and beautiful street, with large spacious homes on both sides and overarching trees. But something was lacking—people, and especially children! Sure, this was expensive Cambridge, but it is, I feel, becoming more typical. Except in inner cities, one does not see many children. In Nigeria, one cannot avoid them, and one does not want to. Children show forth life, hope, joy, play, a sense of the future. In my more cynical moments, I think that the lack of children in the United States results from self-centeredness, the desire to have it one's own way without any strings or obligations. There is something unreal, something that worries me, about so many beautiful houses, mansions, with so few children playing around them.

So much did I miss the smiling faces of children in Nigeria that for the first five months back in the United States, I had to get out my photo album once a week, and spend a few minutes looking at their faces, being with the children once again, at least in my imagina­tion.

Shopping Center and Supermarket. One is overwhelmed upon entering a modern supermarket. There are long aisles of breakfast cereals alone. The quantity and variety are shocking. Then half an aisle for pet foods, including diet food for dogs and cats. I can understand why one missionary from a poor country, upon entering a supermarket, broke down and wept. Instead of low-cal foods, in Africa many simply need food. Of course it is marvelous, a tribute to U.S. enterprise to see such well-stocked stores, and yet there is another world, most of the world that will never have the opportunity to share that con­sumer abundance.

Conversation. So much American conversation, it seemed to me, was about the latest and often fast-fading fads. Concern with health, foods safe or unsafe, with the latest theory on exercise, with the latest on cholesterol, seemed to take up a disproportionate amount of time. One must talk not about cooking but about cuisine. Again, these can be wonderful. I enjoy a good, healthy meal, but there is more to life than that. And is everyone expected not only to have seen the latest film at the nearby cinema, but also to be able to talk at length about it?

Family. One finds a high and growing percentage of single-parent families. Divorce and second marriages are often talked about with no sense of failure, with little sensitivity to their effects on the children. Stories of child neglect or child abuse dot the newspapers. The elderly have special homes with good health care, yet so often they are distant from the children and grandchildren they cared for and loved. This is in notable contrast with Nige­ria, where the elderly are so often in the center, where family life revolves around them, with their wisdom and experience.

Television. No longer for the living room or recreation room, the television is now found in the kitchen and bedroom. The children have their own. Sure, there are many good programs, but then there is the rest. While the quantity of programming has increased, what about the quality? So much television is very provincial and narrow. American-centered. The vision extends beyond the bounds of the United States only to bring us the latest news on the latest crisis. Instead of being with one another, we go to our room or den and turn on the television.

Morality in Media. One does not have to go to 42nd Street or Times Square to see pornography. The local newspaper stand has more than enough. Or videos on the top shelves of rental stores, or special telephone numbers promising thrills. It hurts to see how all this has increased, and with seemingly little question, discussion or opposition. The truly hu­man is being denigrated.

Artificiality. By this word, I mean a distancing from the natural, from nature, or from personal interactions. We live in a world of machines, from our cars to our computers. The marvels of television bring the world of nature into our homes, and yet something—namely, more direct contact—is missing. Our experience is increasingly indirect, filtered, pack­aged, dished out to us piecemeal. Deep realities of human existence, such as sickness, old age and death, are specialized, sanitized, separated off to the hospital or the old folks home. We don't have to visit there. We don't come face to face with these harsh aspects of life, and yet we expect to have a full, rich emotional experience.

Time. Americans are always short of time, caught up in the race, the fast lane. Micro­wave ovens, fast foods, 15-second commercials, digital watches that cut the seconds up into hundredths of a second. Time is for doing things, getting things done, rather than (as in Africa) for being with people.

How does one keep a balance? How does one continue to cherish and appreciate the virtues of American culture, and yet not lose a critical perspective? ... The theologian Paul Tillich praised America, but then reminded us that all people and nations, especially the strong, should constantly be self-critical and aware of the deep ambiguities within them. "He who is not aware of the ambiguity of his perfection as a person and in his work is not yet mature; and a nation which is not aware of this ambiguity of its greatness also lacks maturity. Are we mature as a nation, are we aware of the ambiguity even in the best of us?" Good questions, and questions which the outsider/insider perspective of the returning missionary can help us address.

J. Peter Schineller, S.J., is regional superior of the Nigeria-Ghana Mission, Nigeria, Africa.

Reading Comprehension

1. How did the author feel about his readjustment to American culture compared to his adjustment to Africa?

2. What does the author like about the United States?

3. Why did the author miss the smiling faces of Nigerian children when he returned to the United States? What does the author believe this lack of children results from?

4. What is the author's attitude toward the shopping centers and supermarkets in the United States?

5. How does the author describe conversations in the United States?

6. Explain the differences the author sees between Nigerian and American families.

7. What does the author think of American television?

8. Describe the author's view of morality in the U.S. media.

9. What has caused the artificiality of life in the United States?

10. How do Americans use time in contrast with Africans?

11. Why did the theologian Paul Tillich remind us that all people and nations, especially the strong, should be self-critical and aware of the deep ambiguities within them?

12. What is the central point (main idea) of "Culture Shock on Returning to America"?

13. What is your reaction to the author's opinions? Do you agree or disagree with his descriptions of life in the United States? Explain your answer.