Following Tradition

Yesterday started as a day of travel – I am continually, endlessly struck by just how pretty the world is. Everywhere I go, it’s just absolutely beautiful.

Seriously. This world is *awesome*.

I found myself in a different city by mid-afternoon, where I got the delightful chance to follow my own personal tradition of being fed things I can’t pronounce by my wonderful friends who eat far more interesting foods than I do.

It’s at the same time one of the most amazing experiences I get to have and also one of the most frustrating. I am given truly fantastic food, and virtually no tools of ever being able to find it again.

It follows a pretty standard format. One of my friends says “What do you mean you’ve never had _________?!?!?!?!”

To which I respond something like “I don’t know. They don’t have that in my town/I’ve never hear of that before/What language is that?”

Then I am dragged into whichever food-selling place that has sparked this outrage, and fed something incredible, which I will pretty much never be able to remember, much less pronounce.


Sometimes I despair at the sheer amount of work it would take to ever turn me in to someone “cultured”.


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