On a trip to the local marketplace, my host family was completely baffled when I started snapping photos. The brilliant spices piled into neat cones were just "life as usual" to them. And when I handed over my jar of peanut butter to lighten my load before departing, they were equally puzzled. We didn’t share enough language for me to explain that the brown goo inside was made from the same legumes they munched almost every day.Love it.
Fortunately, my Bishkek family had a chance to come visit me the next year. Using our mutual language of pantomime and Russian-English dictionary flipping, they managed to tell me they wanted to buy some peanut butter. I took them to the local Safeway, where they were just as transfixed as I’d been at their local market. I started laughing as they snapped photo after photo. Suddenly they understood my bizarre behavior back in Bishkek. We all laughed and laughed, right there in the peanut butter aisle.
And apparently I am having a posting frenzy today, but I think this is it.