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The Language of Utensils

May 7, 2015 Leave a Comment

Where I’m from, we use “silver ware” to refer to every day forks, knives, and spoons. The first time I asked if I could set the table with silver ware, my flat mate looked at me blankly.

“We don’t have any silver ware.” We were both confused because I knew we definitely did.

“I mean these.” And I opened the drawer where we kept our forks, knives, and spoons.

“Oh! Utensils!*” She smiled and nodded. “Silver ware is usually for real silver utensils.”

And that’s when I realized that English differs depending on where you’re from. To me, it seems that we discuss the meaning of different words in English every day. My chips are your crips. Your chips are my fries. Your biscuits are my cookies. Your pancakes are my crepes. We speak the same language, but we don’t always understand each other.

So we come to utensils.

In America, there are no set rules that I know of for using your food utensils. Most people manipulate their forks in one hand while resting their other hand in their laps. No elbows on the table! And utensils are left willy nilly meaning nothing except that they were left there.

In Austria (and maybe more of Europe), utensils carry the weight of meaning and both hands usually stay above the table.

I’ve taken pictures to help us both out in figuring out this utensil language!

The below image shows utensils set perpendicular to each other. Hypothetically, you’ve finished your first helping of food and you’re not sure if you might want more food. Leave your utensils perpendicular on your plate. This signifies to everyone else at the table that you’re not done yet. If you’re at a restaurant, these perpendicular utensils will keep the waiter from sweeping in and stealing your plate away before you’re done.

But then, you’ve come to the end of your food feasting. Your tummy is comfortably full, and if you’re at a restaurant, you want your plate to be taken away. This is the moment that you lay your utensils parallel to each other. This proclaims to all around that you have completed your meal. Sure, waiter, come take my plate away.

Now you know, and you are ready to eat at restaurants in Europe (although I have yet to figure out how across the continent this habit is). But I’ve been amused to see this utensil language at work, both at restaurants and more casual dining settings.

*I’ve since discovered that I should be saying “cutlery” not “utensils”.

What About You?

Have you noticed particular utensil habits in your country or even in just your family?

When Guilt Smothers…

May 4, 2015 Leave a Comment

Sometimes I feel guilty–guilty that I don’t do enough in light of all the tragedy and difficulty in the world. Nepal. ISIS. The HIV/AIDS issue in Africa and the world. Trafficking. Russian orphans. Korea’s unwanted babies.

I get terribly overwhelmed, and it feels like drowning beneath the tears and wails of those who’ve suffered.

The weight of all the need falls heavily on my shoulders like a piano dropped from the 60th story of a super tall building. I feel crippled and smashed. What can a 25-year-old, starry-eyed dreamer do for all the hungry tummies, snoty noses, and love-starved arms? I am only one person with a soft heart that shuts down in this tsunami flood of such desperate need.

I am empty. I have nothing to offer. At least this is how I feel.

But if I can care. If I can see the need. If I can stand the discomfort of my luxury juxtaposed against their hardship, maybe…

Maybe.

Maybe I can do a tiny little thing here and there to begin a change. In me. In you. In the world.

Throughout the years, I have been a part of a handful task force teams, sent to aid different places and ministries. I’ve entertained Spanish-speaking orphans with clown-antics, and I’ve cleaned debris from the homes and businesses damaged by a hurricane or an earthquake.

I guess that’s all to say that I’ve done some good things.

But here’s the thing. My help in those things likely didn’t make a huge difference, considering entire cities were influenced by nature’s wrath; however, those weeks peeled back my selfishness from my self-centered heart.
Maybe I only can do a little. And maybe it doesn’t change the overall course of history; and yet, it changes my own personal history. And perhaps the personal histories of a couple of other people, too.

Oh, God Who Loves.

My hands are empty, and you gave me no super powers to hold back tsunamis or to hold the earth together when it shakes or to change hearts from violence. How can you love this world and these people who are so hungry and needy, never satisfied and often traumatized by living or dulled by monotony? I am empty.

And I feel guilty because I’d rather hide from the pain and need all around me because I know what I really am: emptiness.

My hands are empty; but in their emptiness, they can hold the hands of hurting people or they can fill plates with food to share. Loving God, please guide my eyes to see how I can fill my emptiness to help others, but allow my actions to be from love and not guilt.

Strawberry Kisses and Sunshine Puddles

April 30, 2015 Leave a Comment

Warm weather brings the people out to the grass, seeking sunshine puddles that pool along the edges of trees and the cool pleasure of ice cream. And when the sunshine puddles leak into a new part of the grass, the people follow. It’s a strange game of hide-n-seek, hop-scotch, and leap frog all at once. Adults and children play it.

And the warmth brings an abundance of fresh produce. Strawberries appear once again. And eating them is like receiving the sweetest of kisses, all giving and deliciousness.

What is it about the sunshine and the strawberries that require an afternoon in a park with a book? Ignoring the rest of reality with the imaginary world of words even while reveling in the warm reality of sunshine, strawberries, and bird song.

What is your perfect escape when the sunshine comes out and begs you to play? And when the summer strawberries kiss your lips and sweeten your tongue?