By Robert Dean
Carter County Times
Rising gas prices. The Epstein files. War no one wants. A mass shooting last weekend. Unemployment numbers up. New job numbers down. Scrolling the phone is not for the weak-hearted.
It’s enough to make your chest tighten before your coffee is finished.
Lately, my anxiety has been bad. I’m thankfully medicated for daily life with Lexapro, but the emergency stuff my doctor has prescribed me has been getting more attention. Every time I try to relax, it feels like my body is shaking from some undercurrent of stress.
If you feel the same way, know you’re not alone. A lot of people in your life might act big and bad, but when the lights are out and they’re lying in the dark at night, they shed their shells. We’re all dealing. Everyone is doing their best.
I have learned that through chaos, we can find comfort in the most obvious place: food.
Whenever it’s easy to lose faith in humanity, go to a mom-and-pop restaurant where the owner is slinging hash and the daughter is making sure you enjoyed her grandma’s fritters. Those kinds of places remind us of our shared experience, or the humility of doing what we’ve gotta do during times no one asked for.
If you want to challenge yourself, go try a food you’ve never considered. Hit that Indian spot. Get butter chicken and garlic naan. Get some pho on a rainy day from the Vietnamese joint. You’ll see that just because someone doesn’t go to your church, they’ve got stories to tell and want to take your taste buds home through yakisoba, lentil soup, or pierogi.
Sometimes expanding how we engage with the world starts with something simple.
You can see it if you sit quietly in a small restaurant long enough. Someone is picking up dinner after a long shift. A family is splitting one plate because money’s tight. A couple is on a first date, both pretending they’re not nervous.
I remember once I was drunk eating at a kebab stand when two Middle Eastern guys asked if they could sit down. We ended up talking, and they told me that truck was the only one in town that served real Iraqi food off the menu. This little truck brought a taste of home. These guys, including the truck owner, were translators during the war and now live here, far away from home.
They asked if I was willing to try traditional Iraqi food: flat-top seared kidneys and rice.
I obliged.
I think if someone wants you to try the food from their home, to see them as people, it’s a sign of respect. I did, and they were impressed. Because I was drunk, I went in for seconds.
Small moments like this aren’t special to the greater world, but if we all took the time to think about dropping bombs or blowing up schools, we might remember these are people, not shouting characters in a dramatic movie.
Everyone has a story to tell, and you should take the time to listen.
Sometimes the easiest way to hear it is to sit down and eat.
Contact us at news@cartercountytimes.com
