This one never got sent (for obvious reasons)

Later note:

Please, dear readers, do not take this to be my "real", foundational opinion of either this country or of community living in general. This was written in the middle of a very stressful and depressing period of my life when everything seemed to annoy and overwhelm. :-)


Our secretary said something the other day about the 'mentality' here--which included, according to her, elements of greediness, an overactive sense of entitlement, and the gift of complaint. And this coming from someone who was born and raised here! (OK, I could describe the American mentality in equally unflattering terms: consumerism-driven, short-sighted, ego-centric, selfish, wasteful...)

I am starting to believe she might be right. And of course, just like there are plenty of Americans who strive for a mentality very unlike the one I described above, this 'mentality' is only a raw caricature of a people who really aren't describable in one all-encompassing sentence any more than any group of two or more people is! But, you do get a gut feeling after a while, and my gut feeling after almost ten months here is that some of the people here really like to complain. Today's lunch conversation was an excellent example. I heard first of all about the 'horrible experience' that two of the girls had had, when they came in at 9:50 and the breakfast buffet was considerably depleted. The rules are, you can get new stuff until 9:30 and eat until 10. Fairly clear, and in a country where kids are taught the rules and that they must follow them, you'd think it would be clear: come before 9:30 if you don't want to risk it.

But the unwritten rule in this community seems to be: come a little late, and then complain that the rules don't bend to meet your whimsical needs. Then in the course of the meal, I heard about the sand in the lettuce (OK, I find that pretty gross, and washing is really a prerequisite to salad-making), the abominable absence of meat in today's meal (in how many countries do we complain about WHICH protein source we get to enjoy today?), and the laziness of the kitchen workers who had allowed us to (gasp!) run out of oil and vinegar for dressing. Ugh.

[A friend] really has a vision for the student body representatives: we could be really the social engines of the place, organizing parties and relay races and such happy things. I personally don't have the energy for it, when the lunch conversation involves the planning of a hunger strike to protest the lack of balsamic vinegar for our salads today. WTF? OK, maybe if we had more relay races, the mood would be better and we would manage to talk about something else at the dinner table. It's a catch-22, or a devil's circle... This negativity really got to me before, and contributed at least in a large degree to the slump or depression or whatever I was (am?) in. Hard to pull yourself out of a hole, when more and more crap is being shoveled in on top of you!

I pay my 60 euros a month to eat (well, 36, now that I am student representative), and I definitely get my 2 euros worth every day. Maybe it's not all food I would cook myself, but that is exactly point: I don't have to cook it myself! These people who have their heads up their rear ends have plenty of options: get a fruit plate, or a vegetable plate, or for Pete's sake move out and leave the lunch table in peace!

I visited seen a lot of countries, and actively participated in many different cultures, mostly as a guest. Invariably food plays a huge role in cultural events and in hospitality. Hey, we all have to eat, so why not develop cuisine and make it a pleasurable experience? But the fact that I have seen starving children and those extended bellies that belie the abysmal amount of nutrients that actually go into them, makes me abhor lunch conversations like ours. I just have to cringe. People go on hunger strikes to protest schools that teach murder, and to win fair wages and working conditions for thousands of full-time workers, or to free tortured political prisoners. But salad dressing? Our two 'foster' children in Tanzania will never complain about the lack of Balsamic for their salads, or even the sand in the lettuce. Why do we have that privilege?

The US has its problems. I am the first to admit that, and I have spent and will spend a large portion of my life in the fight to change our system. But I do see that it may be also a gift: I have met homeless people. I have watched countless families labor and sweat and then glow with pride as they move into their new house that is ALL THEIRS, and which they never could have afforded without that social safety net of folks who walk with them in solidarity. Like a good mosh pit, we take turns holding each other up. Many folks here have not experienced that, and have those middle class expectations without the eye-opening experiences that are (unfortunately?) all too available in the US.

Clearly I am worked up today.