I Know What I am Eating

I miss information. That is to say I miss the constant access to information I have back home in America. I suppose it is true that you don’t really know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone. In America I enjoy access to the internet, television, books, newspapers, and even gossip. Here in Juanga my ability to access information is severely diminished.

The newspapers are primarily in Oriya, and the one paper that carries English news is only 4 pages. The books I read, I brought with me from the USA or Delhi. The one TV news channel I have access to only deals in headlines and sensational news. The gossip is all about local elections. And the internet is 75km away. I am not as cut off as Robinson Crusoe, but I wonder if that makes it better or worse?

Would it be better if I was completely cut off? Would I miss it less if what I did have was not a shade of what I am used to? I suppose I will never have an experience that will actually give me an answer to those questions. I do, however, know that one of my longest held fantasies is to be stranded. I dream of being completely cut off from the world, surviving only on my existing knowledge, and anything I learn I learn from doing it myself. Maybe the reason I feel this way is because I know one of my biggest fears is being cut off from information. It is my minds attempt to face a fear that deep down, I know I will probably never have to face. I suppose that is what makes it fantasy. Knowing it can never be. If it were a real possibility, would I romanticize about it so much? I do not know.

Growing up my favorite parts of books like Robinson Crusoe and Swiss Family Robinson were always the building up. I was always fascinated by how they overcame the daily challenges they faced. I find it odd how the parts of the books I loved the most are now reduced to montages in the film adaptations. If I had my way with Robinson Crusoe, he would have never left the island. There would be no resolution to his situation. Every day would be another challenge, a new adventure.

Their everyday lives seemed to be filled with more meaning than my own day to day. Everything action and decision of theirs had a direct impact on their very survival. They needed to work the land, hunt, fish, and gather just to put food in their stomachs. We work hard every day to put money in our pockets to buy the food we put in our stomachs. I suppose I feel there are too many degrees of separation between what sustains me, and what I do to sustain myself. The food on my plate is a foreign thing, something I consume. I did not take part in the cultivation or harvest. I barely have any idea what part of the world the food I am putting into my body comes from. Here in India, it is a little different, but not much. I know the people who grow my food. I have met them. I know their names. It helps.

Perhaps food and information are linked in my mind. That is why I decided to transition from one topic to another. I do not know. I do know that now, I am hungry. And I know what I am going to have for dinner, and I know where that dinner came from. And right now that is all the information I need.