Cross-Cross-Cultural Experiences

It was my host sister Ode's birthday this weekend, so on Sunday night we went out with friends to celebrate. The restaurant she chose was Cubaña, authentic Cuban food in the heart of South Africa.

Right.

You know how you always hear that Chinese food in the States really bears absolutely no resemblance at all to Chinese food in China? I wonder if that same principle applies to all foreign food places around the globe. What does Indian food taste like in Argentina? Thai in Sweden? American in Australia? (McDonald's here, sadly, is pretty much the same, although I haven't tried the KFC, which is a significantly bigger deal.) Anyways, I can now tell you from experience that Cuban food in Cape Town is just bizarre.

When the waiter came around I steeled up all five years of Spanish classes to perfectly pronounce 'quesadilla.' (I know. I must be fluent or something.) He gave me a really strange look before his face cleared up in understanding and he nodded patiently at me. "Oh, you mean a kwe-se-day-a."

...No, I mean a kay-se-dee-a. He was on to the next person before I had a chance to decide whether the integrity of the Spanish language was worthy of me looking like a know-it-all American in front of all Ode's friends. Not worth it. Maybe I just heard him wrong.

Apparently not. When he came back with the food he decided to use it as another teachable moment for me. Setting the plate in front of me, he looked straight at it, straight at me, and said pointedly, "Your kwe-se-day-a, ma'am."

Okay, so let's be fair: I've never actually had Cuban cuisine before. I'm basing all my judgment off of Nicaraguan and Mexican-American food, which is probably not a good idea. But between that and common sense, I think I could safely tell you that feta cheese, spinach, and a Halaal bacon-substitute are not exactly typical Caribbean fare. Relatively tasty, but probably not authentic.

But hey. Maybe kay-se-dee-as and kwe-se-day-as are two entirely different food, and I have once again proven my American ignorance. You never know for sure.