I ate an omelet this morning.
WHO AM I?
Before today I was the girl who – when asked if she was the kind of vegetarian that ate eggs – said that I only ate them in cake.
But this morning, I cracked an egg into a bowl-shaped plate thing, added milk, then put it in a pan with butter, cheddar cheese, onion, red pepper, and tomato. Then I put it on a plate and ate it with a fork. The whole thing, without making faces or hesitating.
I’m not kidding. Who am I?
Really, though, it’s a good question. Because when you arrive in a foreign place, you feel foreign and sort of forget what makes you, you. You walk around speaking bits of a new language and trying new foods and grocery stores and restaurants and transport systems and friends and classes, and then you forget what you usually do with your life.
So then you try an omelet and find out you might actually like protein (but never red meat. don’t hold out hope, Mom and Dad) in that form.
At least you find yourself again when you walk the 20 minutes to campus without the form you needed to pick up your ID, so you have to walk the twenty minutes home again to get the form, then walk to campus again to get that darn ID.
And you find yourself again when you buy yourself a krapfen (which happen to be covered in powdered sugar) and a cappuccino on the way home (the first time). You’re so busy walking and eating and trying to make sure you don’t have powdered sugar on your face that you don’t realize that all the while your shirt is being polka-dotted with sugar. You walk multiple blocks before realizing this, then hurriedly cram the rest of the krapfen into your mouth and brush yourself off.
Boy do I feel human sometimes.