The Bane Of Chopsticks

I've been using chopsticks daily for a month, and before that I have been very familiar with them my whole life. In fact I find an aesthetic pleasure in their use. So when I arrived here I felt very confident and comfortable to use them in any scenario. However there have been a few occasions were I've been snickered at, or asked if I need a spoon, or just quietly passed a fork. To these occasions I'd like to wave a big red flag and say wait a minute. wait!

I see people here, drop food daily. Even with the short distance from plate to mouth, made even shorter here by how close people dip their faces into their plates and bowls I still see noodles slip out, meat dropped, water chestnuts squibbed off to the side. Beans pinched into flight. In the meantime the amount of slurping going on and the sight of noodles and vegetables hanging from mouths is reminiscent of water buffalo chewing wet grass. Come now people, who for more than 18 generations have been eating with chopsticks, maybe forks are a good idea.

On my first week here I was out to lunch with a small group, being treated by a guide from a factory I had just visited. I was hungry and in no mood to be in adventure mode with food. I just wanted something familiar and basic. Out comes an appetizer and to my delight I see that it's a bowl of salted peanuts. Oh thank you lord. I should have kept my mouth shut because our host reached for his chopsticks and grabbed himself a peanut. Great googily moogily I stammer under my breathe feeling like the dad from A Christmas Story. I place my sticks in my mitt and reach for one. I feel the eyes of those around the table waiting to judge (and scoff) at my performance. I reach in and pinch. Nuts shoot like marbles across the table. I'm asked if I'd like a fork. They're peanuts for crying out loud! Use your damn hands. Jeez, chopsticks for peanuts. It's like mowing a lawn with a pair of scissors.

But I digress