Sunday, October 23, 2016

A thousand sheep and absolutely no lettuce

It’s officially fall in Galway—as evidenced by the crunchy leaves, the lab being on a horrible hot/cold/hot/cold cycle as the radiator gets too excited and you crack open a window only to let in a torrent of cold, rain, and sadness, and the fact that as I write this in my room, I keep making typos because my fingers are so cold. (Sleeping in a blanket burrito and a wool hat is actually kind of nice, though—up until you have to roll out of bed in the morning.)

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about getting sick—the first common fear that people talked about at my Dialogue orientation session. The second fear was food. Specifically, these worries came from people who were traveling with food restrictions, everything from not eating meat to gluten intolerance to life-threatening allergies.

I’ve wondered if I subconsciously chose Ireland just for the food. I’ve been vegetarian since I was eight, which makes a few regions pretty implausible; my face swells up about 20% of the times I eat tomato sauce (I still haven’t figured this one out), so the Mediterranean area seems ill-advised; and I’ve always been interested in the Middle East, but the slightest trace of chickpeas sends my body into apocalypse mode, and spending a semester in the Middle East avoiding hummus and falafel just seems unrealistic. Ireland, on the other hand, heavily features potatoes, carrots, and cows. This is good. Root vegetables and dairy, I can work with.

I actually know several people who’ve come to Ireland with multiple food allergies and survived. When people think about eating in a foreign country, I think what comes to mind is food carts and restaurants—when the reality is that if you’re staying for an extended period of time, you’ll be spending less time ordering off a menu where you can’t pronounce anything and more time wandering the aisles of the grocery store, trying to find the flour and figure out whether green vegetables exist. (Spoiler alert: they don’t. Ireland is an island filled with sheep. There is no room to grow lettuce here.) My diet here is pretty much the same as it is in Boston. It’s called muesli and not granola; I eat less fruit because it’s crazy expensive (see: this isle is full of sheep—shoutout to anyone who gets the literary reference); I eat carrots every day instead of broccoli every day, because they cost next to nothing. But on an extended trip like study-abroad or co-op, you have a lot of control over what you eat. The only thing I can’t accept here is the baked beans. They come canned in tomato sauce. What is that?

You also have the option of finding at least one thing you can eat that’s easily available where you are, and eating exclusively that—functional, if not ideal. During the week we lived in a hostel on my Dialogue before moving into our dorm apartments, we ate most of our meals at restaurants, and I pretty much ate potatoes, bread, and soup three times a day. (If you’re looking to crash-diet, this would be an awesome approach, because I lost five pounds that week; otherwise, you might want to diversify.)

tl;dr (I don’t blame you—I really never shut up)? If you’re letting concerns about food hold you back from going abroad, don’t.


Except for the baked beans. I will never understand the baked beans.

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