The Cheese Garlic Bread Principle

I’ve now been in South Asia for almost two weeks. Its been quite the adventure.  I struggle with how to describe how to sum up my experiences of the past two weeks in a simple blog post- there have been more tastes, sights, sounds, and feelings than I could ever do justice in such a short space. I think, though, that the most important impression to communicate is the fact that life here is pretty normal. I live in an apartment with air conditioning and a washing machine, a block away from a western-style shopping mall with a food court and a movie theater and a Starbucks, and a 20 minute drive away from a very nice Meijer-esque two-story grocery store where I could buy a new bike or Nutella. The second night I was here, I went with my coworkers to the nearby mall for dinner. We sat down at a little cafe where I ordered a Reuben sandwich. As we waited I laughed to myself— the cafe was playing Michael Jackson in the background. Not too different from any other big city.

But then I remembered that I got to the little MJ-playing cafe in a motor rickshaw (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, google it), wove in and out of foot, bicycle, rickshaw, taxi, and bus traffic with no regard to traffic lanes, paid the driver in rupees, and passed by hundreds of people on the streets and hundreds of stalls selling hundreds of different kinds of goods, everything from fresh vegetables to iPhone chargers. I saw beautiful clothing and beggars and heard street vendors calling and rickshaws honking their horns. In spite of all the similarities to a big city at home, there are incredible and obvious differences.

Existing in this paradox of sameness-and-differences can be complicated, to say the least. I remember experiencing an earthquake when  I was in Guatemala. It was the strangest sensation: I had taken for granted that the earth was solid beneath my feet, but then all of a sudden it rebelled; it decided to ignore the laws of physics that until then had been so reliable. Being in a new culture feels very much the same. It’s exhausting to be in a situation where absolutely every interaction is unpredictable. Simple things like walking down the street or making a purchase suddenly become a source of uncertainty. The process of sorting out this paradox brings us to what I call “the cheese garlic bread principle.”

I discovered this principle today as I was wandering around the downtown with two of my friends. One of my friends, a native to this country who has lived in the city for a long time, needed to run some errands. My other friend and I, both of us foreigners to this place, waited in a small bakery while the errands were being run. What started as a pleasant, restful afternoon eating desserts quickly devolved into a desperate search for somewhere, anywhere with a bathroom where my friend’s dessert could make a reappearance. Feeling a little like Mary and Joseph in the Nativity, we awkwardly crossed the busy street and knocked on door after door of food stalls and shops, frantically trying to communicate our needs. After a series of not-so-helpful interactions we found our proverbial “manger:" an Italian restaurant with a restroom available. After the tension eased, I began to write a text to my friend, the one running the errands, detailing our new location. I sent the text, feeling the stares from people on the street and thinking that although I was pretty sure we were safe, this probably wasn’t the part of town that would be your top choice of location for a pleasant Sunday stroll. I anticipated my friends response— I knew that she had told us to stay in the area near the bakery where this adventure started, and I was feeling a little far away. Would she come looking for us and be worried when we weren’t there? As these thoughts were mulling in the back of my mind, I felt my phone vibrate with her response to my anxious message: “Oh cool. They have really good cheese garlic bread.”

What a change in perspective! What I had perceived as a uncertain and incredibly uncomfortable expedition in the streets was for her the equivalent of driving to Panera for some fresh bagels and a smoothie. In all my anxiety from being in a new situation, I fail to grasp the fact that people work, love, play and have fun here. It’s a city and a country full of regular people living regular lives. What seems to me like a scene from an action-thriller movie is might actually be just cheese garlic bread. And that helps me make sense of the paradox. I still struggle, but I find myself seeing more and more "cheese garlic bread" in my new home every day— and as I become more comfortable, I am more free to truly experience the beauty that surrounds me.