November 28, 2004, my family and I arrived to Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. By observing such a different environment, I expected my life to be whole lot different. Yet It did not occur to me until I had to go to school, my first American school.
Midst of the foreigners, there was I, waiting in a line to be served with my first lunch ever be eaten in American school. Yet to realize how this simple lunch would turn out to be, I was fluttered and excited for my first lunch experience. I have read many books about schools in United States, written by the international students studying in United States; therefore, I had slight ideas to how my first lunch in American school would be like. Yet, I was anxious.
‘Hmmmm, I would love to have some pizza, chicken fingers, or hamburger. Oh, wait! What is this smell? It does not smell so familiar to me. I doubt that I will be served with those foods. Then, what can it be?’
Rich cheesy smell of nachos assailed my nostrils. I did not know what was stimulating this funky smell. The smell was not familiar to me. It was so new to me in a way that I am new to this American school and a first lunch served at school. Have not yet experienced nachos, the unrecognizable smell aroused my curiosity and made me become eager to be served. When it became my turn, I received my food realizing it to be distant from what I had expected. Doomed! The lunch menu of the day was hard tacos with nachos. In Korea, generally people consume much less cheese than people here do, because it is too oily for them. My mother, a typical Korean housewife, she refuses to use the suggested amount of butter and oil whenever she bakes or cooks, but on the other hand, she would add extra garlic or peppers when she cooks. Finding out that big yellow dollops on the chips were cheese did not take me long, but it surely did take me by surprise. My realization had me mildly panicked. For not having been exposed to nachos or tacos, I was anxious to try them. As a typical teenage boy from Korea, I also disliked the excess amount of cheese poured onto salty chips.
‘I do not think I will be able to eat this food. No matter how long I stay in United States, I do not think I will ever like this food. Richness of cheese and its funky smell will never appetite me!’
This Korean friend named Ji-Yong, who was helping me survive through my first day of American school lead me to the table where his friends were gobbling down their lunch. On the table, there was a girl named Kayla. Blonde hair and blue eyes, she is so distinct from the people that I used to see in Korea. However, her appearance was not the only factor that she differed with me. Reaching out her hand for nachos and again, she clearly showed her liking nachos. I tried taco but did not even look at nachos. When she was done with her nachos, she licked the cheese that got on her fingers. My mother used to tell me not to ever lick something off my finger, because the finger is supposedly the one of the dirtiest body part. Having been listening to her over time, I myself believe it is unsanitary for one to lick something off one’s finger.
‘Yuck! She is licking cheese off from her fingers! If my mother had seen her, she would have lectured her about how bad it is for her to do that!’
Honestly, I could not even stand the cheesy, oily smell of nachos. Not knowing this, my friend Ji-Yong and Kayla wanted me to try some of the nachos. Just like I expected, taste of nachos was not satisfying. I regret having to listen to them. After having been tried some, I thought,
‘If I live in the United States for long enough, would I be able to enjoy nachos?’
Sitting on a table, surrounded by friends that looked different from me and spoke the language that I was not used to, I felt so out of place. Just watching them having a great time finishing off their lunch, their sucking on the bit of cheese that gotten on their finger, even triggered the feeling.
‘Would I be able to be a part of them? Even when we are so different?’
Now I have lived in United States for about 5 years, I have no fear in having nachos. The smell and the taste that was unbearable to me once are being liked by my sensory organs. My nostril is no longer being assailed by the smell, but instead gets ticked softly; my taste buds no longer recognize nachos as something that is too oily or tasteless, but instead recognize it as something that is appetizing. Just like my nostril and taste buds are being adapted to the unexplored taste; I am being adapted the new life in United States. I became friends with the foreigners who spoke the language, which I was not used to listen. Also, now I no longer freak out whenever someone licks food off his finger. My roommate has blonde hair and green eyes, and I have black hair and brown eyes. However, my roommate and I are like brothers, no cultural differences bring any conflict between us. This weekend, I am going to have nachos with my roommate, and I will tell him about my little story behind nachos.
Through nachos, I have learned that as an immigrant from Korea, there are going to be many cultural differences that I need to know about and find the wiser way overcoming the differences. Also, through nachos I have learned that the cultural differences could be overcome.
Photographs:
Image 1: “nachos” from thepost-itplace.com
http://thepost-itplace.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/nachos.jpg
Image 2: “nachos” from hairyalien.com
http://www.hairyalien.com/nachos.jpg
Image 3: “nachos23” from irvineretail.freedomblogging.com
http://irvineretail.freedomblogging.com/files/2009/02/nachos23.jpg
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