Any time you prepare to travel overseas you will undoubtedly be bombarded with a plethora of information and advice from well-meaning travel veterans. This advice usually falls into one of three categories: Food, Sightseeing, or Safety.
I find some of the most interesting commentary falls into the food category.
“Never ask for seconds.”
“Never finish everything.”
“Always leave a little.”
“Never put salt on your food.”
“Never look the cook in the eye.”
“Eat whatever they offer you.”
“Never ask what you’re eating.”
“Just stick to rice.”
“Everything tastes like chicken.”
“Never eat fresh fruit or vegetables.”
“Wash it all with bleach.”
“It’s offensive to smell your food.”
To be honest, I’ve heard all sorts of strange anecdotes about eating food in other countries. I can’t really say that any of them have helped me survive my travel experiences; however, I am now convinced that it is best to just eat what they offer you without asking any questions. I’ll tell you why.
During my stay in Serbia my team and I were constantly being offered food and beverages from the locals. Every time we visited someone’s home they would offer us traditional treats from their country. We didn’t always know what we were eating, but Serbians are known for eating meat with meat. So, we were frequently served some sort of meat.
The day in question was no different. We had just finished chatting and playing games with the children in the village when some of the women brought out plates of sandwiches. There was a piece of thick, homemade bread topped with some kind of meat – liverworst or bologna, or something of the sort. That was topped with boiled egg, sliced onion, pickle chips, and shredded cheese.
To begin with, I don’t like that kind of processed, mushy, cat food-like meat, so I was already holding my breath trying to eat it. On top of that, the bread had a thick crust around the edge, which made it very difficult to bite and chew. My first attempt resulted in all of the cheese and most of the other toppings to fly off the bread and into my cup of orange Fanta. This of course caused the entire table to break into laughter. Without words, the 80 year old woman, with perfectly positioned blue-gray curls who was sitting next to me tried using charades to show me how to eat without making a fool of myself.
I copied her motions precisely and eventually consumed one entire sandwich. After which she motioned for me to eat more. I waved my hand at the food as if to say, ”No Thank You” and then put my hands over my stomach to show that I was full. She tried several more times to convince me to eat more. At this point I was having trouble determining whether she was offering to be gracious or if she was angry that I wasn’t eating more. I asked our translator to find out if she was in fact upset with me.
That’s when the hysterics began. I, along with all the other English-speakers at the table, was in the dark as to what was going on. “What’d she say?” I asked. “Um, I’m not sure how you say in English” our translator sputtered through red-faced laughter. “She say you are too skinny. You need to eat more because, um” and as she struggled to find the right words in English she made fists out of both of her hands and knocked her knuckles together. “What’s the word, like love?” “Are you talking about sex?” I asked innocently. “Yes,” she responded. “You need to eat more because if you get married and have sex it will hurt because you are not fat enough. You know . . .” and she continued with the knuckle pounding motion.
“Ah. I see . . .” Well, that was by far the most awkward bit of cultural, food eating advice I’ve ever gotten. I couldn’t help but laugh while the rest of my teammates just stared with wide eyes and dropped jaws. It was one of those moments where you’re not quite sure what was actually said because it sounded like one thing but you’re certain that one thing would never come out of the mouth of the person you heard say it. They simply couldn’t believe a bunch of old Eastern European grannies were begging me to eat more so that I could have better sex in the future.
Moral of this story:
Just eat your food and don’t ask questions.
