Culture Shock

So Wikipedia - the source of sources - defines culture shock as the difficulty people have adjusting to a new culture that differs markedly from their own. Frankly, I always thought culture shock was a more explosive thing, involving tears, shouts, and fights. I went into this semester fully expecting culture shock, and was surprised that, after a few weeks, I was pretty much alright.

But then it hit. It wasn't like a sledge hammer in the face, or a spike into my foot. Elliot, Ben, Ariyo, and I were talking, hanging out. Somehow the topic of dinner came up.

"What did you have for dinner, Rio?"

"We ate at this one local restaurant. Noodles and this vegetable dish."

"How. Original."

And then it hit me. The food here is all the same. Rice, noodles, spice, salt, and a little bit of meat - enough to get the flavor but never enough to get any respectable amount of protein. I'm tempted to import protein powder and start drinking shakes just to make sure I don't keel over from this carb-loaded diet. There is some small variation in the dishes: tomato in one tastes juicy and tomato-like, while the spicy chicken and peppers dish has a little kick. But by and large my breakfast tastes and looks the same as my lunch tastes and looks the same as my dinner.

You know what I miss? Toast. Crispy, crunchy, flaky, buttery toast. I think that might be the problem. There is no variation in texture. It's all this mushy-ish noodle/rice like composition. There is no chewy like steak, no crunchy like toast, no mushy like yogurt. Maybe I'm just eating the wrong dishes. Oh, I had warm milk today during lunch. At least, I hope it was milk.

Besides that, I'm generally ok with China. The sanitation bothers me sometimes. In Chengdu, we were having dinner at this local place that had some pretty good dumplings (still all the same texture). This one guy at this one table started chewing his food. I guess he didn't like what he was tasting because he spat it out. Onto the floor. Just.. bloop - right underneath him. When we left after dinner the chewy mass was still there.

I'm also frustrated that I can't communicate effectively. I lost my bike keys a few days ago. I asked the front desk at my building if anyone turned in a pair of black keys. They said no. Two days later, when I was helping my teacher get something behind the desk, I saw my keys with a little note saying that they had been found in the building. Those fuckers.