Our school cafeteria offers one Chinese and one Western dish every day. Or at least they try. Some days, I look at the two offerings and I can’t figure out which one they think is the western dish. Regardless, it’s always delicious.No matter what food the cafeteria is serving, they always provide spoon, forks, and knives. Never chopsticks. Except for –and this, of course, makes perfect sense- on days they serve soup. Once or twice a month, the cafeteria offers Japanese udon soup with the wide noodles. This they expect you to eat with chopsticks.
It actually works out. You use the chopsticks to pull out the noodles and the other bits of goodness and then you sip the broth from the bowl as if it were a teacup. We have gotten used to it and don’t think twice about it.
Until last week.
Annika and some friends walked down to City One Plaza after school to hang out and have a snack. At a little food shop, they each ordered a bag of noodles. The women behind the counter handed the first girl a bag of noodles and pair of chopsticks. The second girl: a bag of noodles and pair of noodles. Third girl: bag of noodles and a pair of chopsticks.
When Annika stepped up to the window, the woman handed her a bag of noodles and a spork.
“Really? Seriously? A spork?” Annika thought.
It was really sweet of the lady behind the counter to make accommodations based on Annika’s cultural background. “But, what I supposed to do with a spork?” Annika thought. “I know I’m just a white girl, but I do know how to use a pair of chopsticks.”
Annika went back to the window, and the lady was gracious enough to give her a pair of chopsticks.
Oh, the burdens of living as a misunderstood minority.
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