The food we eat

Today we went to lunch for Joyce’s birthday, her birthday is not until Sunday but we wanted to go to lunch today. We went to the taco wagon. Doesn’t sound like a big deal but for me it was a sacrifice that I made for a friend. You wanna know why? I don’t like to eat anywhere that doesn’t have running water.



Here in Utah there is a taco wagon on every corner. I never eat there, first of all, I only speak English, they only speak Spanish- who knew carna asada was some kind of pork thing? Can’t you just say “some kind of pork thing”? I am one of those white people who is sure that since you don’t speak English if I just speak s-l-o-w-e-r and much, much LOUDER, you will understand. I’m always amazed when they don’t. So due to the language barrier I have no idea what kind of food they are giving me because after several moments of speaking slowly and loudly, I just start nodding my head to everything they say.



Then there is the handwashing thing. “But they wear gloves” everyone tells me. So today on my self sacrificing birthday lunch, I watched them. Yes, they wear gloves, the same ones while they keep touching everything. Hmmmm, didn’t make me feel better.



And while I was waiting patiently for my lunch- I think it was a chicken torta (what’s a torta?), the lady fixing my food stopped what she was doing to watch TV. There is a little TV in the taco wagon ( no water but apparently plenty of electricity) and there was a Hispanic soap opera on, must have been a juicy part because she couldn’t look away, and neither could I, I never saw a TV channel that didn’t speak English. I know how I sound, I am not a bigot, I just want to understand. My world has been expanded by taco wagons and the Spanish version of All My Children.