Short Story: Bad Food in Ayutthaya

As of now, I love Thai food.  I love it because nothing is forced on me and I can make and order what I want.  It wasn’t always the case.

It’s February 2011 and I’ve only been in Thailand a month or so and I’m still not used to the strange food my host family keeps putting in front of me every evening.  I’ve had a few meals of nothing but rice and a few bites of something I don’t like.

Gross.

My host mother’s sister would sometimes visit to tease me in Thai.  One day she brought some food, or at least I think it was supposed to be eaten.  I don’t remember exactly what it was.  My host family put it in front of me during dinner.  Mother, father, brother, sister-in-law and two kids stared at me and waited to see my reaction to the food.  I tasted it.  It was horrible, but I kept a poker face.

They asked me if I liked it and I said it was okay.  They began to giggle and asked me again if I liked it.  They wanted the truth so I gave it to them.  I said I didn’t like it.

The entire family shook with laughter.  It was as if it was the answer they were hoping for.  I asked them what was so funny.

“We don’t like it either!”

It’s not just Americans who can’t eat some of this shit.

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