Do you ever find yourself singing a song you don’t actually know? It is a perseverant song that will not leave your head? Maybe it’s not even in a language you understand? Well, welcome to my world lately. Due to living in our tiny, ghetto type apartment with our college sized fridge, I find myself having to go to the local supermarket each and every day. As I walk in, inevitably they are playing one of two songs. EVERY SINGLE TIME.
It’s either a really catchy, really dramatic Japanese tune which is about long lost love or the love for eating cow’s tongue (I’ll tell you when I learn more Japanese). I’m pretty sure it might be the theme song for what would be equivalent to a “tela-novella”. The other song, lovely enough, “It’s a small world” on hyperspeed, in a loop, in Japanese. Yup, this is my new life people.
And if this were not over-stimulating and awesome enough, I have the added bonus of not recognizing pretty much anything in the store besides fruit, veg, and a few meats. How about those really nice looking rolls for your husbands sandwich that when you cut into have chocolate inside, or bean paste, or some sort of cream that looks like (well never mind) . Thank GOD he loves chocolate! How about that shaved pork you bought which would be just right for the stir fry, which …oops….is pig intestines and tasted like what would be inside the intestines, you know , just before it exited?
Here’s me, standing in front of a huge shelf of “sauces” with my google translate out trying to decipher just one. Awww….screw it, I’ll just buy 3 and see which one doesn’t kill us or render our taste-buds dead for a week! YAHOOOO……GERONIMO! Here’s me, Buying a snack for my son, which appears to be popcorn but in reality when I open the package are tiny shrimp that have been freeze dried and potentially soaked in hot sauce for a week. GOOD JOB MOM!
Then there is always the moment when you are dining out and you feel so proud because you have figured out that you can point to something and it shows up at your table. Then you realize that it shows up, and you are now eating a cow’s tongue. Oops, if I am talking funny for the rest of the day and find myself yelling out “MOO”, who’s to care, nobody knows me here anyhow, right?
As you can see, my culinary journey has certainly been a multiple choice quiz which varies between a) fascinating, b) disgusting, c) delicious, d) clueless, and e) terrifying. For those of you who know me, you know I will try anything once (and this applies to many aspects of life not just food). So, I wonder how my less adventurous friends would fare with life in Japan. You know who you are, I love you, but your affinity for chicken and white bread and plain pizza abounds and I’m pretty sure you may not want to visit.
I realize this blog is not nearly as deep or maybe as interesting as the past few, but I’m busy. I need to go to the Max Value and act like I am in a Japanese soap opera. I need to wheel my cart around while dancing up the aisles and while everyone looks at me wondering, “Isn’t that Gaijin in here EVERY day and isn’t she always looking at the same sauce, what the HELL is wrong with her”. And right after I do that, I am off to eat “Salad Cake”. Yes, I am going to pay money for someone to serve me a salad that is disguised as a cake.
Only in Japan! ONLY in Japan!