Curses and Cucumbers and Carrots, Oh My!

I know I’ve talked about grocery shopping in Sri Lanka before (here), but now that I’ve been here a while, I feel like it’s time to revisit it, specifically with my trip to the store yesterday.

I do know that we are fortunate to have actual grocery stores here. For that, I owe a HUGE shout out to British colonialism and David Sime Cargill who started a warehouse, import, and wholesale store in 1844. In most other countries in this region, getting groceries means going to a shop that has meat, then one that has bread, then one that has produce, then one that has eggs, and then who knows how many other shops to find everything one needs. I could definitely do that here, as well, but thanks to Mr. Cargill, I have Cargill’s Food City and one or two other chains of grocery stores to frequent. Since I also have three Little Explorers and approximately zero patience, I am eternally grateful to Mr. Cargill.

All that being said, getting groceries in this country still is no easy task. I used to be an obsessive menu planner and coupon clipper. I actually enjoyed the whole process of making a list, putting coupons in order, and knowing what was for dinner every week. That all came to a screeching halt when we moved here. First off, there are no coupons. Fine. I can deal with that. The real issue is that, while I make a list, I can no longer be bound to it, nor make a menu based on it. I can’t guarantee that the things on my list will be in the store, even if they were there last week. I don’t know which produce will be fresh and which will be a bit past its prime. I just don’t know what’s going to happen once I push through those doors and grab a shopping cart. Shall I demonstrate with an example? Allow me to take you inside my head during my most recent grocery buying experience:

Thanks, old dude in the white sarong and jacket whose job it is to open the door. I’m going to miss you. Have you considered getting your visa and moving to the States to be a greeter at Wal-Mart? I’ll bet they let you keep the sarong with the uniform blue vest.

Oooh, the produce looks nice today. I love living on a tropical island where the fruit is so yummy and tropical. Pineapples are in season. I wish I wasn’t allergic. Perhaps I’ll get one for the rest of the family. Dragonfruit. I love dragonfruit. Here are cucumbers. I’ll get a bunch of those for Gertrude Bell since she loves them so much. Carrots, check. Apples, check. Mangoes and papaya, check. Onions and bell pepper, or as they call it here, capsicum, check. Capsicum is a weird word. Ok, now to line up and get this stuff weighed and priced.

I’ll just get behind this old lady with the cart full of produce. Maybe it won’t take as long as I imagine. I’d better push my cart up to the side to be out of the way of other shoppers. Ooh, I guess I should get closer before that lady in the red blouse cuts in front of me. Obviously, I’m not in line if there are more than three inches between me and the old lady. The International Man of Intrigue uses the euphemism “butts to nuts” to describe lines here, but, as I have none of the latter, and as my brain is supposed to be PG, I’ll refrain. Good, the old lady is finished. Wait, what is she saying? Something in Sinhalese. Oh, that is a scary look. What? WHAT?? Oh. My. God. I think she just cursed me. She did! She gave me the evil eye and cursed me and I was just trying to buy cucumbers! What the heck?! I’m sorry I’m foreign! I’m sorry I smiled at you! I’m sorry I have to buy groceries and now I’m cursed! Aaaagh!

Okay, the produce is weighed. Calm down. On to the noodles. I really want some soba noodles but I bet they don’t have those here. Nope. Tons of ramen. What are these bags? “Special Noodles.” More “special noodles.” I have no idea what that means. Hey, Sri Lanka…If you tell all the noodles they’re special, they’re going to think everything they do is perfect. You want a bunch of noodles who think they all deserve the tee ball cricket trophy just for participating? No? Well then stop labeling them all special. While you’re at it, maybe consider getting some soba noodles, okay?

 

Mmmm. Maldivian dried fish, complete with eyeballs, on display on an endcap. Won’t see that in the States.

I’m hot. Why is it that I sweat as much getting groceries as I do exercising? Move over Jillian Michaels and your 30 Day Shred. Dorothy Gale’s 30 Minute Shop is coming for you!

Okay, now I need yogurt and cheese. Aaah, they have lots of curd. Who knew it could somewhat replace both Greek yogurt and sour cream in my diet. I’m glad there’s no nutrition info on the side. Here’s the brand I like. Should I buy the stuff in the terra cotta pot with the rubber band holding the cover on or the one in the unsealed plastic container? We’ll base that on expiration. Well, this one is expired, so the plastic tub it is! Good. Now, cheese. I really want some feta cheese. I don’t care if it costs nine dollars. I am totally hungry for pasta with feta cheese. NO! Of course! The one day I am willing to pay exorbitant prices for feta cheese and there is none! Fine. Just fine.

What am I listening to? What is this music? I can’t possibly be hearing what I think I’m hearing. Oh, but I am. Get a load of this. Traumatizing, at best.

 

Frozen foods. Five hundred kinds of chicken sausages. One brand of chicken nuggets, and why are they so tiny? I mean, it would take an entire box just to fill up Arthur Dent. Maybe they’ll have those yummy chicken fingers stuffed with some sort of curry mashed potatoes they had last week. Nope. Of course not. What I wouldn’t give for frozen pizza. Oh, well. Really, I just need to finish my shopping. I need to get out of here before I lose my mind, or before that curse kicks in, but first I have to grab eggs off the unrefrigerated shelf. Hmm. That doesn’t really bother me anymore. Weird. I guess that’s a good thing.

CHECKOUT! I made it. No, lady, I do not have exact change. What is it with the fascination for having exact change? Every single place I go, ever, wants you to always be able to magically produce exact change. Please, stop trying to look into my wallet like I have it, too! I need those small bills sometimes, okay. Don’t make me feel guilty. I’m already cursed. Doesn’t that count for something?

And there you have it, Fellow Adventurers. Exhausting. I’m going to put my feet up and sip on a Coke Light while I cool off. Think of me when you’re cooking dinner tonight, especially if you’re making frozen pizza.

Grocery Shopping

I feel as though I’ve been remiss in not describing Sri Lanka in better detail. I had these delusions that I would go out with the good camera and take lots of pictures and show you. Then I remembered I have three kids, one of whom is generally strapped to my back and two who are holding my hands every time I go out, and I realized it’s probably not going to get crossed off my to-do list any time soon. How about I use the old method where I use some descriptive words and you use your imagination? As a reward, I’ll post a few pictures of food and things from our apartment at the end.

The first day we were here, we walked to a grocery store adjacent to our hotel. As we approached, the door opened seemingly automatically. In actuality, it was an old man in a flowing white outfit ushering us inside. Wal-Mart greeters be warned, this guy is gunning for your job, and he will be awesome at it.

My initial impression was that the store was dirty, crowded, and small. I sucked in my breath. I knew from co-workers that this was a good store to frequent. How was I going to make it through a year? The produce section looked like a slightly shady booth at a farmers’ market. There were wide open bins of grains like rice. There were fruits and vegetables I recognized, like apples, green beans, and bananas, and lots I couldn’t place, despite the fact that at one point in my life I watched the Food Network almost exclusively.

Past the produce were narrow aisles packed with things I couldn’t always identify. There was a large section of spices, some in little containers, but mostly in bags. Brightly colored cellophane bags of ramen noodles filled much of one aisle. The cookie aisle was called the “biscuit” aisle due to the British influence. The only thing I recognized was, blessedly, the soda aisle. There it was, not exactly the same, but enough to make me comfortable: The Coke Light. For 95 Sri Lankan rupees (rs.), approximately 85 cents, I could have a 500ml bottle of Coke Light.

I was confused when I looked at the freezer section. Down the center was the low kind of open freezer open on top, and it was almost completely filled with various kinds of chicken sausages. Really? Just chicken sausages? Yes. Turns out Sri Lankans love chicken sausage. Without speculating too much, I’d say it’s because they really don’t eat much pork here. The population is primarily Buddhist, followed by Hindu and Muslim. None of those folks really eat pig, which is dandy with me.

The one thing that still has me a bit frustrated is that there is almost no frozen or refrigerated food here. Nothing prepackaged. You can’t just pick up a frozen pizza or a pack of deli turkey. I really like to have frozen veggies on hand for dinner, but they really don’t have that here, either. Turns out when you live in a developing nation, electricity isn’t always reliable. So far in Colombo, we haven’t had problems with the power, but local grocers sometimes turn off their freezers and refrigerators at night to save money. Luckily, you can tell so you don’t shop there by looking for ice buildup on the frozen food. Unluckily, that means no shortcuts for me. If you want it, you’re making it from scratch.

Dairy is interesting. We buy our milk in the UHT boxes. Try getting your kids to drink that. I’ll admit to taking a bite of Cheerios and milk that Gertrude Bell walked away from. I didn’t exactly gag, but I did wash that bite down with a swig of Coke Light and a grimace. Fresh milk goes bad quickly, and cheese costs an amazing amount. Think $7 for a brick of cream cheese or $9 for a package of shredded cheese. Once we’re in our house I’ll definitely have to rethink my “normal” rotation of recipes.

We have found a few things we enjoy. Milo is delicious, and thankfully, even though it may contain a lot of sugar, it does claim to be low on the glycemic index. Whatever. It gets my kids to drink milk. We’ve enjoyed trying lots of different kinds of chips, called “crisps” here. Some have been better than others. One was called “Jays” and looked exactly like a Lays bag, but not. The International Man of Intrigue and I found an instant soup made by Knorr that we like. The best part was that it came in a three pack with a free bowl.

When I look back on that first trip, I think the only things we bought were Coke Lights and a couple of packages of biscuits. In the time since then, I’ve been to that store and another grocery chain many times. It doesn’t seem dirty to me any more. Maybe it’s because everything here is a little dusty. I’ve found things I like and tried new things that I didn’t care for. I’m a bit anxious to see how we’re going to manage to eat healthily this year and still have food we’re comfortable with. I’m all for trying local foods and really want to immerse myself in life here, but I do not have any desire to eat curry three meals a day, seven days a week. I have a feeling it’s a good thing we brought a year’s supply of peanut butter with us.

Gertrude Bell and Amelia Earhart drinking Milo.

Jay's- Betcha Can't Eat Just One!

Coke Light. Mmmm.

Not Pringles. Mister Potato.

Not Pringles quality control, either.

Our new fancy soup bowls. Hope the kids don't break 'em.

Bonus photo: Hotel water, because you can't drink the water in this country.

Oh, and I have no idea about the spacing on this post, and I'm too frazzled today to figure it out. So, if you don't like it, feel free to offer your layout and design services, or keep it to yourself. Also, I know my pictures aren't super blog perfect and worthy of Pinterest or something, but you'll have to wait until I'm done raising kids before I become an expert photographer.