Читать книгу Russian She-bear in American and British Settings - Юлия Кузьменкова - Страница 8

Part 1. America and Americans: from ‘wow’ to ‘how’
Food experience

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Finding your own way in dealing with food is always an exciting experience. Our acquaintance with this aspect of life began by a visit to a CVS Pharmacy where they sell little proportion of pharmacy proper and quite a variety of other goods. Our escorts, both Russian immigrants, took us there to show the cheapest way of shopping – probably relying on the idea that all their former compatriots should suffer from acute poverty and be willing to save every penny. They offered us to buy something to be further cooked in the hotel (in Washington we had the necessary facilities). But the goods on the counters differed very little from the usual stock of imported food at our shops in Russia.

Loaded with bags and packets we emerged from the shop – to be encountered by a street beggar who persistently demanded to be given a few dollars to buy himself some booth. Having nothing against beggars ‘as a strata’ but angered by his insolence (and probably moved by recollections of similar experience back home) one of the ladies found nothing better than to explain – and in good English – to the creature that she didn’t understand him. Drunk but not insensitive enough to overlook the peculiar incongruity, the beggar accused her of being a liar to that she bravely replied: “Sure, I speak English but not the *** American variant!” The rest was a matter of time – for him to recover from the shock, for us to establish a safe distance away from him.

Next time our escorts told us that we were going to have lunch at a Washington railway station. On hearing this I felt a bit uneasy, even she-bear found it repulsive and protested by scratching my insides. No wonder – for many Russians привокзальный ресторан evokes in mind a picture of the worst and the dirtiest place to eat, where beggars – like the one who had plagued us the other day – could be met in numbers and not so easily dealt with. Here was just another cultural lesson. What I thought was the lack of manners on our escorts’ part proved to be the lack of cross-cultural awareness – on my part, for I couldn’t imagine that in other countries those places could be quite decent. What I saw surpassed all my expectations; at the same time there was nothing so unattainable that couldn’t be introduced in our country – even a couple of decades ago. A huge basement floor housed a great number of counters with different national foods practically to any liking – meat, broiler chickens, salads, pastas, sea food, vegetarian diets etc. etc. It was all rather clean, reasonably cheap and with little queuing.

There were other options for having relatively inexpensive and substantial meals. You could enjoy a hearty dinner in a Chinese restaurant. Chinese cuisine – unless you take very spicy dishes – seemed amazingly close to what Russian palates are used to. Besides, five dollars hot dogs at a university cafe are nothing compared with the doggie food (remains of a huge five dollars restaurant portion) you could take home for supper. But perhaps the most common American habit is buffet style eating. You could feast for the same five dollars with as many helpings as you like somewhere in the suburbs or small towns; in big cities, however, even in a students’ canteen this kind of lunch or dinner will cost you a bit more.

Eating out soon became a minor problem – after I’d learned not to destroy decorative bunches of greenery which I once mistook for something exotic but edible (while helping myself to leaf salad) and not to order a shrimp cocktail for refreshment. Still, there lured a strange feeling constantly reminding us of being away from home, it was often intensified by scratching of my ever hungry she-bear who also seemed to miss proper nourishment.

No matter where we ate or what kind of food it was, it always seemed rather tasteless; even the most delicious dressings couldn’t improve things and in an hour or so we got as hungry as if we hadn’t got a crumb. We couldn’t find any better explanation for ‘the hunger syndrome’ than that of the quality of food. It looked somewhat artificial though appetising, and we justly attributed that to the use of hormones and nitrates – for most emigrants we discussed the issue with often confirmed our suspicions having had similar puzzling problems.

Russian She-bear in American and British Settings

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