The need for cultural understanding became apparent to me at my going away party last night. As promised, my mother supplied a vast amount of cake purchased from a local store. What they also supplied was some inadvertent humor. Look closely at the tropical scene pictured. (Click on the image for a larger view.)

Although I don’t think flamingos live in Thailand, this is not the error to which I refer. The cake makers were told to prepare something beachy, but look closely at the message. Apparently cultural understanding must start with spelling.

Looking for some understanding myself and with my departure drawing near, I thought it might be time to have that very important conversation that every young woman must some day have with her mother: what things, if eaten, might kill me. As a registered dietician, I thought she could help the worries that had started to churn in my stomach, generating much the same feeling that bugs (yes, bugs) might be generating in a few weeks. Her response: “Well, I don’t know.” Thanks that’s helpful.

Upon further reflection, she suggested staying away from the drowned rat (served raw), which she recently read is a delicacy in Northern Thailand. “In general, stay away from anything raw,” she said.

“But I eat raw fish,” I said, being a sushi lover.

“But that’s in America.”

Now to my more specific worry. “What about bugs? Can they kill me?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you are supposed to know about food!”

“I’ve never served bugs before.” (At least not to her knowledge.)

The results of our conversation were inconclusive, but she has given me something to chew on.

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