Today marks day 19 of a 3 week period of eating out every single day. During this period we might have eaten two meals at home. This doesn't count breakfast, but I don't know a missionary who counts breakfast as a meal. Regardless today we're fasting and I'm feeling like I could float along on cloud nine and fast for a solid four days as to allow my body to cleanse itself.
Don't think that this is normal, this is absurd. Every day has had it's own, unique, level of absurdity, but these past weeks have had insane insane days all one after another. I'm about to blow a casket. Next time you bug your mom to give up on lasagna swap it for a night out, the next time you grapple within your soul between leftovers and McDonald's, later when you reach for the phone before you reach for the fridge door, I want you to think about this list I've compiled about all the things I miss about home cooked meals. Yes I realize the majority of my emails are lists but this is just how I think.
~Choice and Accountability When you're left to your own devices in your lonely kitchen, you have the world at your feet! You can eat absolutely anything you want. You can eat AS MUCH or as little as you want. At the end of the day, the consequences of what you ate are all yours and yours only. Choice and accountability are BLESSINGS. When I'm looking at a plate handed to me by the sweetest Brazilian, no matter how much I love this person, I just can't help to think about the million and two things I'd rather eat than what's in front of me. Actually, this was my mindset the first week and a half. At the tail end of this horror film had me looking at my plate thinking about how much I'd rather be not eating than eating at that moment. And where are my consequences? (Still not on the scale thank goodness) but in the twang of heart burn so deliciously bestowed upon me. HOW IS THIS MY FAULT. I am reaping the consequences of someone else's choices just to not offend them. Imagine: you invite a sister missionary over for the third time that week to eat with you and she tells you she values her heart health more than the feast you've prepared and asks for an apple instead. DISASTER.
~Self Confidence I a twenty-year-old representative of Jesus Christ. But for the past three weeks I haven't cooked a single meal. My hands aren't used to turning on the stove, they've accustomed a little too well to scooping a portion of someone else's hard work into my own plate. I feel like I'm back home, in the ages before I was trusted with microwaves and I'm eating out of my mom's hand again. This is not a good feeling. I have been absolutely spoiled my whole time in Oizumi. Yes, mothers still whip out cakes at the end of an already exhausting meal and expect me to squeal. My confidence in my sustainability is non existent.
~Human Interaction My favorite favorite favorite part about eating in is sitting and talking to my family. We say what we really want, honestly describe our day, and laugh a ton. I remember as a first, second, third transfer missionary and giggling in excitement as we rode our bikes home for a decent meal home just because there was so much I wanted to talk about, to ask about, to laugh about. This is week three without a decent conversation with my own companion. We've never ever in my time here had dinner at home. We either eat with someone or skip it.
~Chairs It's true: I've mostly eaten meals on my knees. Nobody every gets used to this. No American anyway. Oh how I long for the days when I have the choice between a sturdy dinning room chair and a sofa. How much time as it been since I've sat on a sofa?!
How can a mint compensate for mouth wash, floss, and American tooth paste? It doesn't.
I love you ALL I'll see you soon,