So, one of the things travel teaches you I suppose is to notice how you experience things. One of the things I’ve caught myself doing again and again is letting expectation interact with experience. What do I mean? Food is a great example. Picture a big slice of chocolate cake on a plate. It has chocolate sauce drizzled all over it and chocolate flakes crumbled across the top. Mmm. So you take a bite. But it’s not chocolate cake, it’s fig. And the texture isn’t moist and soft and cakey, it’s only sort-of soft and biscuity. “Bleagh” you say “This isn’t chocolate cake!”. No, it isn’t. But no one said it was: it just looked like chocolate cake so you assumed it was. Now, semi-moist fig cake tastes great! It’s a wonderful delight; there is no reason not to like it.
Except that it isn’t chocolate cake.
I’d like to say I could just get over it, but it’s very hard once your brain is set to taste the not-chocolate cakeness of it. In fact, sometimes that’s all you can taste: the gap between what you expected and what you got.
Now, this isn’t a metaphor for my Indian experiences, it’s really just about cake. Things here have a habit of being close to their Western counterparts, but not quite. When you set an expectation, it’s hard not to hold them to it. If you think I’m being snobby, just bite into a mushy apple and tell me that it’s as good as a crisp one. You brain is dismayed by the gap between expectation and reality and cries out.
Eventually, with enough experience, the brain will learn to expect something different and the sensation and anticipation will match up, resulting in real satisfaction.
There are plenty of the opposite experiences here, too. At lunch we often have the buffet. There are many terrines of mysterious yellow-brown food that I have no expectations of whatsoever. Maybe something lentily? Or corn? Could be hot, might be sweet. There is no way to know. So you take a ladleful and see what’s what. Usually, it’s great! Once in a while, you get caught by a weird eggy thing, but not so often. And you do begin to expect. These days if I see a lentil dish over in the veg section, I have a pretty good hunch that I will like it. I like dal. Those of you who know me recognize this statement for the true confessional it is. I like a lentil dish and typically have it instead of the meat dishes here. And that’s unexpected.
Our first day in Liberia as a new Peace Corps volunteer, I was nervous and my tum reacted accordingly. Aha, thought I at mealtime, a plain old slice of bread and butter is available. Perfect. It looked exactly like yummy homemade bread, and butter is butter, right? No. The bread was made with very little salt; the butter was canned and tasted very odd. Not the same thing as chocolate cake made with figs, but the same idea. And I'm guessing the "Tasty Nuts" in the photo aren't exactly Mr. Peanut, right?
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