My cure for culture shock

Being sick over the weekend left me with plenty of time to think and true to form I thought largely about food and culture. Before leaving to go abroad everyone warns you about to things being safe and culture shock. I've always felt like the minute I announce I'm going abroad people tell me to be careful of men and pick pockets. A part of me always feels these warnings are slightly ridiculous. After all I grew up in New York City and Florence is hardly the third world. Of course I'm going to be careful, I'm careful at home. Thinking about it further I realized that I do need to take extra care because I don't speak the language. You don't realize how comforting it is to be able to understand what's said around you until you no longer can.

That's where some of the culture shock comes in. I find myself missing American television or hearing the Wendy's employees at J Street take orders. Catching a cold I realized I missed Tropicana orange juice. I also have a bizarre and frequent craving for peanut butter. I rarely eat peanut butter in the states. I love it but I just don't eat it that often. I would also sell my soul for a starbucks hot chocolate or even swiss miss. My feelings of culture shock are strongest in their associations to food. It's not surprising really, besides being necessary for survival a good meal can have a profound impact on the soul. Years later memories of a dish will comfort or excite you. One of the things I promised myself was that while I was in a homestay I would try any dish my host mother prepared. So far of done just that. I haven't loved every dish but I haven't hated anything either. There are certainly dishes I would rather eat but I've also been surprised by some of the things I've really liked (chicken liver). I understand that due to allergies or religious reasons some people have dietary restrictions. It just makes me sad when someone says they won't eat meat unless they are sure what it is. Like I said earlier Florence is hardly the 3rd world. The Italians may try to serve you tripe but your sausage won't be stuffed with cat. I know that when you order veal or steak no one wants to eat a mouthful of gristle but there's no need to cut away all the fat. Fat=flavor. I know that food is a very personal thing and perhaps this is hypocritical of me. I was and in some ways I still am a picky eater. But I'm in a country famous for their cuisine. This is also a country where the flavors are familiar to me. It's unlikely I will try anything with a flavor I find really strange and repellent. So why not use this time to expand my tastes farther and break out of my comfort zone. I guess food is my cure for culture shock. On the one hand I can have all the excitement of trying a dish I've never tried before. At the same time I can retreat behind the familiar comforts of Spaghetti Carbonara or Bolognese. Both options are before me and I expect I will take advantage of both the familiar and the strange.

If all else fails when it comes to culture shock I can always take two advil and listen to some Bruce or Sondheim on my ipod.