Open Mind

My first year in Spain, I opted for the ‘cultural experience,’ which was a fancy way of saying that I lived with a host family. It was definitely an experience, for sure!

The woman I lived with was probably eighty years old, and she had a mentally handicapped sister who was just as old. My first semester, I had a roommate who lasted almost a month before she decided to live somewhere else. The women we lived with weren’t the easiest to live with, and I think that it made it easier for her to choose to live in student apartments, where she could do things with other girls her age.

My second semester, I had a unique roommate who didn’t seem to know anything about living abroad.

During that time, there was an orange alert out to US citizens abroad, meaning that we were supposed to be cautious while traveling. I honestly don’t know why anyone wouldn’t be cautious, but apparently it was slightly more dangerous. Maybe it’s because I look less ‘American’ than others, but I didn’t worry too much. I already knew that I used caution when traveling, and that I didn’t do anything stupid to peg myself as an unwitting tourist.

My roommate, however, went into full panic mode. She had a whole cover story where she was a Canadian who didn’t speak English, but if they asked her to speak French, she would tell them that she didn’t understand Spanish, because she also didn’t know French. Every time we went out, she would tell me that people would bump into her on the metro on purpose, or that some of the men were following her.

Even though she was living in a different country, and apparently attempting to appear from Canada, she didn’t do a good job of hiding her roots. After about a week, she started going to the American store and bringing food to the woman hosting us, asking her to make ‘real’ food. The food she brought were things like hamburger helper, macaroni and cheese, and cold cereal. Things that the woman had no idea how to cook, or what to do with. She made us fresh meals every day, paella, garbanzos, oh it was so good. But my roommate didn’t want that food. She wanted American food. Real food.

She didn’t last very long with our Señora either. Within a month, she had moved into student apartments.

It was amazing to me, every time she refused to adapt, or even try the culture she’d chosen to live in. And it was even more astounding how offended she would get when others didn’t eat or think the same way she did.

There’s so much we can learn from other cultures, if we’re only willing to adjust and adapt to new ways of thinking. 

Food Heritage

Recently, hubby and I went to visit family. We first went to my uncle’s house for dinner and had some amazing soup. It was cheesy, and potato-y, and reminded me of home. I don’t tend to make a lot of recipes that I grew up with, mostly because of my husband’s different tastes in food. However, during dinner, he leaned over to me and whispered that it would be okay if I made that soup at home.

Later that week, we traveled to my grandma’s house, and to our surprise, we were served the exact same meal. We didn’t complain because it was so good, but it made me start to think.

My aunt is my grandma’s daughter, and she grew up with the foods that my grandma made. She learned how to cook from my grandma. It makes sense that they would have similar tastes and that they would serve similar foods. Whenever I have dinner with my dad’s family, we have fresh made bread, and usually homemade jam with it. I love their amazing food, but it’s not what I grew up eating for every meal.

My mom cooks very differently than my aunt and grandma.

One of the things I remember about my mom’s cooking is that she loves to barbeque. Even during the winter months, she had my little brother shovel a path to the grill so that we could have salmon or steak. I remember one time, when I was home alone with my dad for Father’s Day, I made lasagna because that’s the kind of thing my mom would make. When I told my grandma about it, she commented on lasagna was so fancy and she’d never made it before.

Because I lived in a different country, my tastes in food have drastically changed from when I grew up. I eat a lot more rice than I did growing up, and I use a lot more spices and flavors that I used to. Even so, something as simple as cheesy, broccoli, potato soup can bring back the best of memories. I love how food can be a heritage, and how even the simplest things can bring back our past.

International Care Packages

My husband is one of the best men I’ve ever met. I really admire him for the things that he’s done, and especially for being willing to leave his family and his country to be with me. It’s a sacrifice that I can’t even fathom. When I lived in Spain, I missed my family more than I imagined possible, but I always knew I would see them again.

We haven’t been able to see hubby’s family since we left Spain, and I know that’s been difficult for him. Every year we try and create a nice care package to send to them. It’s hard to think of different things that they might not be able to find over there. There’s a few things that we’ve found that they really seem to like. Things that we take for granted.

His parents always ask for Advil. Not just Advil, the soft gel capsules. We have those in any general store, even in random gas stations. But here’s the thing. Pharmacies in Spain are way different from the US. They’re under government control, which means that every single pharmacy is the same. And they sell the same thing. Not the nice stuff, but cheap medications that you can mass produce. Half of it is powdered and needs to be dissolved. Gel capsules are a luxury over there.

Hubby’s brothers always ask for a bag of Hershey’s chocolate. Amazing right? We always talk about the European chocolate, the real German stuff, but his family craves the American concoction. We try and send a pound or so of the minibars, just to give them some variety.

Speaking of candy, we try and send a whole bunch of that. America has such a unique variety. Last time we were putting a box together, hubby told me that we should get those really weird ones… Air Heads! Then of course, there’s circus peanuts. Those could confuse just about anyone.

Do any of you have friends from different countries? What kind of things do you put in care packages? We’re starting to get Christmas ideas going, and I’d love any advice!

Salteñas

I think I’ve mentioned before that hubby is from Bolivia. We deal with a lot of difference from both culture and beliefs, and it’s taken years for us to truly understand one another. Even when we think we know each other, there’s always something new to learn.

Hubby hasn’t been back to Bolivia for several years, and we’ve talked about returning for a visit multiple times. Whenever I ask him if he would like to live there again, he always says no.

His response is always the same. The thing he misses most is the food.

I’ve tried some of the Bolivian food. It’s pretty good. It’s different than what I’m used to, but I still enjoy it. I’ve offered several times to try and learn how to make some of it, but he doesn’t want me to. He thinks that I’ll mess it up and it just won’t taste right.

A few years ago, we found a restaurant in a nearby town that made salteñas.

Now if you don’t know what salteñas are, you’re really missing out. The best way I can describe them is that they’re like empañadas, but instead of filling them with cheese, they’re filled with soup. One of the greatest challenges to eating them is trying to do it without spilling all over. It’s a process of eating, sucking and licking so that you can keep clean.

I know, it sounds kind of gross, but it’s not.

When we first found the restaurant, hubby wanted to go every day. Every time he had the car, he would come home with three or four salteñas, and he would share with me.

Some Salteñas my MIL made

Now, I said they were good, but not so good I wanted to eat them every day for weeks on end.

It took me a while before I could figure out why hubby loved them so much. They were his comfort food. The stuff that reminded him of home. He ate it because it reminded him of his family and his homeland. Of all the senses, I think taste and smell are the most potent, especially when they’re connected to memories.

I can relate. When I lived in Spain, I frequented the American store, and the things that excited me were always random, but reminded me of home. Things like Kraft Mac and Cheese. Or Pop Tarts.

What kind of food do you associate with home? I’m curious about all of your traditions!

The Best Gummy Bears in the World

Creating something takes time and talent. Making it go viral takes good planning, the right storm, and good publicity.

I don’t think I really understood how things can happen so accidentally until recently. I work with some awesome people. During night shift, we often eat to keep ourselves awake, and we like to share what we like with other people. A few months ago, one of our nurses, a part time nurse, shared her favorite gummy bears with another nurse. She loved them so much that she went out and bought some for herself. At that point, they were only being sold at one particular chain of gas stations, and only in one or two of them.

She then shared it with the rest of us. Slowly, but surely, we all started eating them because she kept sharing them with us. Soon, we were starting to buy packs of our own. Then the day shift started to notice that night shift was eating these gummy bears. Not long after that, I noticed some of the day shift nurses bringing them in at the beginning of their shift.

During nurses’ week, our DON had a jar full of these gummies, just because everyone in the building loved them so much. Most of us started buying two or three bags a week. Some were buying up to ten.

But it didn’t stop there.

I started buying them and sharing them with my family. I took them to write-ins with my friends. I wanted them to try it because it was so good. I was talking to my coworker, who told me that she noticed that another store started to sell them.

This week, I saw them at our grocery store, in a neighboring town, and they were flying off the shelves.

That’s how things go viral. I never once heard a commercial for them, and I never saw an ad. It was word of mouth. The product was good enough that everyone wanted to share it.

That’s encouraging for me, as a writer. I just need to make the best product I possibly can, and if I can create that perfect storm, it will be shared.