One of the things I am learning a lot about by living in Thailand is what it feels like to be a minority. There are several ways I can wind up in the minority here- linguistically, religiously, racially, or culturally. I don't notice it all the time out in public, but I do still feel conspicuous some times, and the language part can have its stressful moments. It is not often here that I am in the cultural minority since so many of my friends are Americans or other Westerners, so it is easy to live in Thailand and not often experience the joy of observing another culture closely or the stress of being emerged in a set of rules with which I am not familiar.
This weekend in Singapore, I had that opportunity. As Sunday was the end of Chinese New Year, my aunt and uncle were gathering with their family for dinner and they invited me along. Nothing paints a culture for you like attending a holiday with them.
We walked across the street to my uncle's parent's house where his other siblings, nieces, and nephews had already arrived. Much like my family, most people were milling about the living room visiting while a few finished getting the food and tables ready. I smiled when I saw that there were two tables, one being the designated 'kids table', just like we always had (some things, I guess are universal).
Before dinner a small coffee table covered in newspaper was brought into the middle of the room. On it was a platter with piles of different shredded vegetable and raw salmon. Sauce and peanuts were poured on top and everyone crowded around with a pair of chopsticks and then worked together to mix the salad. It was fun, and I soon realized why the platter was surrounded by newspaper.
Then we all sat down for hot pot with heaping piles of pork, beef, and seafood all around. Everyone happily started dropping meat into the broth as family banter bounced around the table. Sat between my aunt and uncle, my plate was never empty. At one point everyone was fighting over a meat that I did not recognize. My aunt took a piece and put half of it on my plate. She said she'd only let me know what it was after I tried it... I did, and it wasn't bad, if a bit gelatinous. I think it was pig skin or something. I tried several other new things that I can't remember, and even ate part of a black egg (I can't remember what they are soaked in), something I had cleverly avoided so far in Bangkok. It wasn't nearly as bad as I expected it to be, and in fact, I didn't dislike it. Not sure I'd go as far as saying I liked it though.
The meal was delicious and fun, and I ate way too much. My favorites were the pork meatballs and the shrimp. After hot pot I had a bowl of broth and then some Korean ramen-style noodles to finish things off. We followed dinner with a chocolate birthday cake for two of the teenagers, which I somehow made space for. It was a fun evening and my uncle's family was so welcoming. When I got there he had introduced me to everyone, but it wasn't until dinner was nearly over that his sister realized that I was that Clare, the one from Ann Arbor, the little girl.
The foods may not have been turkey and stuffing, but it still felt a lot like sitting down to a big family Thanksgiving dinner, everyone having their favorite bits of the meal. It was so much worth the bit of uncomfortableness that comes from trying to pick up on the correct cultural way to do things and knowing the whole time that you're not quite getting it. But at least my chopsticks skills are slowly coming along.
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