I knew I was in trouble when the nice lady at the grocery store said “powdered or liquid” when I asked for marshmallows.  Well, not actually in trouble, that would be the fact if there was only one way to do things…the “American Way.” But when you are involved in a multi-cultural family you know there are often many ways to do things.

Cultural Equivalence

I love the idea of  “cultural equivalence.”  In translation it might be finding the right word match to convey local sayings.  Or once when setting up a “Teddy Bear” exhibit at O’Hare, we included cultural equivalence for making a child feel comforted.  Teddy Bears might not be in every culture, but the idea of comforting a child is.  Like pita bread is to nan is to tortilla; or spaghetti is to raman, or bowing is to shaking hands.

While some cultural equivalents are obvious, some are the “mother of invention” as one tries to make favorite recipes in another country.

Not that we needed to have our “own” foods while in Brazil.  They have plenty of their own treats there, from pao de queijo (delicious little cheese breads) to brigadeiros (chocolates covered in chocolate sprinkles) and beyond.  It was just that my goddaughter still remembered the Rice Crispy Treats I had made for her during her one-time trip to the US in 2001.  Now that I was visiting her in Brazil, wouldn’t I please make them?

Finding the Ingredients

So, pretty much NONE of the ingredients were available in Sao Paulo.  After following the attendant from the bakery to the frozen food section (she was so nice I didn’t have the heart to say you clearly have no idea what a marshmallow is) we moved onto cereal, only to confirm my suspicion that there are no rice cereals available.  Since I had apparently used both Rice Krispies and Cocoa Krispies when Pri had been in the US, and she had her heart set on a vanilla/chocolate combo, we settled on “Sucrilhos” which are basically miniature sized, a little thicker, Frosted Flakes.  Also available in Chocolate. 

We splurged and bought real butter, and went on to a specialty store which was assured to have marshmallows–and indeed we found something called a marshmallow, that was a circle, about 8 inches in diameter, with two layers, one white and one pink, about an inch thick.  Squishes like a marshmallow…so we bought three of them.

Baking

At this point we just devloved into a science experiment.   Going from memory (one cup butter, bag of marshmallows, rice krispies to stick?) we melted the butter, which was a different consistency in Brazil and was still a little thick and creamy even when melted.  That required adding extra marshmallow, which was more the consistency of peeps to begin with, and melted into a pretty liquidy (which I had now idea how to say “liquidy” in Portuguese, since it’s not exactly a word in English to begin with) substance, that required pouring in the entire two full boxes of cereal, one chocolate one vanilla, mixed together for a massive glob of “Sucrilhos” com Marshmallow.  The marshmallow liquid then sank to the bottom of the cooling pan for a hard, rubbery base…

Which turned out actually kind of delicious

And my niece/goddaughter, for whom I went to three stores and messed the entire kitchen…loved them!  With the sugar coated cereal and extra sweet marshmallow it was a sugar high not to be missed.  Granted, it was probably most appealing to my 10 year old son and 20 year old niece, but then it gave something else for the cousins, who speak different langauges, to do and enjoy together.

In the end

Baking in a culture other than my own reminds me of ordering in restaurants in another country–you have to approach it with a little latitude, because your never sure exactly what you are going to get.  But in some ways that’s the delight of sharing  and learning about another culture.

How do you adapt to other cultures?  How do you share our own culture when you are there?

My husband and I have skirted this conversation for 24 years.  Not really skirted.  For us, culturally Jewish (me) and Brazilian (him, non-Jewish) we are comfortable with our choices to raise our son Jewish, and make sure he is well connected to his Brazilian heritage, despite growing up in the US.  

But family members sometimes like to make suggestions.

We’ve survived my Grandmother whispering at the top of her lungs “too bad he’s not Jewish,” after we were married, and after he had just changed a flat tire on my uncle’s car to save us waiting 4 hours for AAA.

We laughed through my mom pointing out that Sergio’s mom’s maiden name, Perreira, was the most popular name for Jewish families escaping the inquisition in Portugal and fleeing to Brazil in the 1500’s.

We really laughed when the US government issued him a citizenship certificate changing his last name to Bonastein (instead of Bonaventura) when he became a citizen years ago.  “See, even the US Government wants you to be Jewish,” we joked.

But it was the conversation at dinner the other night that really gave him pause. 

Our son Dillon was contemplating becoming vegetarian and discussing the care of chickens, factory farmed versus free range, when Sergio spontaneously announced, “My mom used to drain the blood from chickens when she prepared them.”

That’s the kosher way to prepare a chicken

Hmm, we both thought.  Probably like her mom did. And her mom did.  And her mom did, just as cultural traditions, this one Jewish, are passed from generation to generation.

I remember being struck year’s ago by a woman I met in passing in the locker room at the health club.  She was a Russian immigrant who had recently relocated to Chicago.  She was talking about growing up in Communist Russia, where practicing any religion was forbidden.

Her family didn’t self-identify as Jewish, but she recently was starting to reevaluate certain traditions they had always practiced. Out of habit, and with no apparent meaning…like lighting candles on Friday nights—a Jewish, Shabbat tradition.

So what happens when culture is removed from the acts of tradition?  Does it tell a deeper story of familial history, or perhaps world history?   

What are your family traditions?  Do you know why?

Photo Credit:  fanelian’s photo stream on flickr

Brazilian-Guinean singer and dancer Fanta Konate will bring her African Sensory Experience to Chicago from December 1 to 10, 2010 as part of a cultural exchange program sponsored by The Illinois-Sao Paulo Chapter of Partners of the Americas.  A native of Sao Paulo Brazil, Fanta’s public performances of music and dance in schools, with dance companies, and in cultural settings epitomizes the African influence in Brazilian music and dance and highlights parallels to African influence in the arts in Chicago.

“Chicago and Sao Paulo have a common heritage in the Manden culture which spread to Brazil and the United States through the African Diaspora,” said Chris Preissing, Illinois-Sao Paulo Partners Board Member and volunteer coordinator for the Fanta Konate trip.  “It is the goal of this project to use the music and dance of the Manden Culture to engage at risk youths and professionals who work with disadvantaged youths to increase human potential and create environmental sustainability,” added Preissing.

Direct artistic work over the 10 day exchange will reach over 1,000 and include students in Evanston, through the BooCoo Cultural and Music Center, and in Chicago through the Old Town School of Music field trip program, University of Illinois Chicago theater department, Columbia College, Loyola and DePaul Universities. Educational and cultural activities will reach approximately 500 through the Chicago Public Schools, the Kovler Center for Survivors of Torture and more.

Founder of the Africa Vivá Institute, Fanta had her training in the African Ballet styles of “Hamaná,” “Fareta,” “Bolonta,” “Soleil d’Afrique,” and “Sangbarala,” the style of her village. Whether performing deeply traditional West African themes with her sisters and brothers in Troupe Djembedon or with other guest artists and collaborators in the “Contemporary Diaspora” style, Fanta Konatê always delights audiences with her mastery of a variety of timbres, styles and tempos.

Dancer and Singer Fanta Konate is the daughter of Master Djembefola Famoudou Konatê.  Her work represents a fusion of Manden culture often combined with the music therapy of her husband and artistic collaborator Luis Kinugawa.  Their work originated in the “Biomusic Without Borders” work in 1998 in Brazil, and has continued with social projects in Guinea and Sierra Leone from 2000 to 2002 with Non-Profit  Organizations “Warchild,” “Doctors Without Borders,” and “Refugee Children of the World,” training as many as 40 art educators to work with 1,000 to 1,500 refugees at time.

Founded in 1965, Partners of the Americas is a not-for-profit volunteer organization committed to working together as citizen volunteers from Latin America, the Caribbean and the United States to improve the lives of people across the hemisphere. We not only dream of a better world, we roll up our sleeves and make a difference. Illinois-Sao Paulo (IL-SP) Partners is one of 120 Chapters and 60 Partnerships working to foster cooperation across the Western Hemisphere.

For more information visit us at www.illinois-saopaulo-partners.org, or find us on Facebook, Partners of the Americas Illinois-Sao Paulo Chapter.

 I realized as I mixed together onion, fresh cranberries, sour cream, sugar and horseradish tonight that is is not the actual cranberry relish I love, but the tradition of Susan Stamberg slipping her recipe for Mama Stamberg’s Cranberry Relish into on-air conversation, every year since 1972. I’ve heard her suggest it to foreign heads of state, Hilary Clinton…she even got Martha Stewart to make it one year.

In fact, I’ve served it at least five year’s now, and I don’t even think anyone else has noticed it’s a regular yet.

But this year is extra fun…Stamberg connected with rapper Coolio, host of an on-line cooking show and author of a book with the same name, “Cookin with Coolio.”

If I honestly assessed my unconscious biases as relates to rappers, I would have to say it would be that they don’t spend the day in the kitchen or even know how to cook, although perhaps I should have known better after Snoop Dog did his laundry on a T-Mobile sidekick ad a few years ago.   I stand corrected, and the show below is worth the watch.

Coolio ads his own multicultural touch, making “blasian” eggrolls (his term for food that is Black mixed with anythin Asian): traditional eggroll wrappers and asian spices with ground beef and cheese, among other things. For Mama Stamberg’s Cranberry Relish, he added Thai Hot Sauce.

On the way to dropping my son at school this morning we heard an ad for a fast-food restaurant that was boasting “hand-mashed” guacamole.

“That’s sounds kind of gross,” I said.

“Especially if it’s mashed by dirty hands,” my son added.

“Ewww” we both shouted.

Why would the advertiser think that was a desirable trait?  It reminded me of the same discussion of Grandma’s mashed potatoes from last week, and the underlying values we assign in society.

Values in any society are the central “shoulds” and “oughts.” Values are deeply embedded and consciously or unconsciously control our behaviors on a daily basis. Values vary from culture to culture; how values are expressed vary from culture to culture, and the same action in two different cultures might not trace back to the same value.

One culture may value individualism and competition (for example USAmerican Culture).  Another culture may value group and collaboration (for example, Japanese culture).  Individuals from both cultures may work equally hard (the action) but for one it’s for personal gain, for the other it may be so the group succeeds–the underlying value is different.

On the flip side, two individuals may intend to show deep respect for another person.  In one culture deep respect is demonstrated by direct, steady eye contact; in another culture, the ultimate show of respect is avoiding eye contact.  You can imagine the misunderstandings or tension that might underlie an exchange between people of these different backgrounds.

But back to my guacamole.  The underlying value here and with the potatoes is that something made by hand, as opposed to a machine, is better.  It hearkens back to a day when automated assistance (aka kitchen gadgets) weren’t as readily available, restaurants and convenience foods weren’t an option, and “home made” was often the only option.

And my question is…does that value still hold true in USAmerican Society?  We like fresh, we like healthy, but we like convenience.  We want it now.  We like time spent with our mom, not time she spends hidden in a kitchen.

Marketers spend oodles of time thinking about marketing to international cultures.  But maybe it’s time to reevaluate the changing values of society, and how we are marketing to consumers here at home.

For me, I’d be more tempted by the potatoes from the Chef at Mon Ami Gabi, and I’d rather not think too deeply how you made my guacamole.  What about you?

Photo Credit:  Whatscookingamerica.net

Farm Scene Birthday Cake

I have to tell you in all honesty that my 9 year old son and I made this birthday cake for his dad/my husband with all the love in our hearts.  Sergio always says he wants to retire on a farm so we chose a farm theme, and inspired by the amazing book “Hello Cupcake,” set to work to create this amazing farm scene, complete with horses, a small pond with fish, and a silo, made of inverted stacked ice cream cones topped with one of those snowball marshmallow cakes, and covered in icing.

Did you say silo?  Yes, I said silo.  That’s what I said.  And that’s what it looks like, right?

Not according to the guests who came to the birthday party that night. 

Scientific Data vs. Generalizations/Assumptions

Now, for a quick sociological analysis of this study, to see if there is any trending of perceptions based on sexual orientation or gender.

Overall, of 21 people total 33.3% of the people attending the party were so moved upon seeing the cake as to approach me and say “so, what’s up with the cake?”  

Of that sample, 29% of the people who self-identified as straight and 43% of the people who self identified as gay thought the silo was something else.  By gender, 25% of the women and 39% of the men saw the alternative interpretation.   So, scientifically, it looks like the gay men were more likely to immediately stop and say “oh my…”

The lesson for intercultural communications? 

1.  Not everyone sees things the same way.

 2.  Once someone shares with you his or her interpretation of or orientation to an object, idea or concept, you will never be able to look at that item the same again.  Your perception is forever changed by learning that of another.

 3.  Just as diverse teams can improve the bottom line with a more productive work place, a diversity of backgrounds and perspectives will make your party more fun, too.

What does this look like to you?  No need to answer in writing, but if you do, please include your sexual orientation to add to the data collection.

After all of the build up, there was no way Dillon was going to miss trying a hot dog in Paris.

“A foot long, on a full baguette, and covered with cheese,” I recalled from my high school exchange trip.

“Sometimes with French Fries stuffed right into the bun!” added my husband.

“It lived up to the hype” said Dillon (not really, he’s 9, but he said something to that effect.)   And then we stopped to ponder the calorie/fat content in such a delicacy.  Ouch!  How can people eat these and stay in shape?

The next morning over breakfast of croissants and butter (isn’t that redundant?) our hostess, good friend and native Parisienne, Laurence, pointed out “But French people are not fat.  We walk everywhere.  We eat well, but we eat three meals and nothing in between.”

Ahh, I thought–the hot dog in the US is the “snack” you eat to hold you over until dinner.  Sure, it can be a meal, but it’s more the “I’m at the game-I smell the cart-Let’s grab a hotdog” kind of thing.

So there are two Intercultural Lessons here:

1.  Your opinion on things will influence your child’s (or student’s) anticipation of them.  That’s a powerful and responsible position, particularly when it comes to engaging in and experiencing different cultural traditions, and

2.  It’s good to understand the full context of an item in another culture, to understand that not only might something be prepared differently, but the custom around its consumption might be different in different cultures (think salad before or after dinner, and cheese for dessert?).

Who knew a hot dog could be such a good teacher?

What favorite foods or pasttimes from your culture have you tried in another?  How were they different?  How were they the same?

The traditional Jewish sandwich is a corned beef on rye, right? 

It was actually our (not Jewish) Parisian host who told us about Sascha Finkelsztajn’s.

Having been to a Jewish seder in Brazil and with a nod to his burgeoning Jewish cultural identity, 9 year old Dillon said it would be fun to try a bagel in Paris.    Bernadine excitedly told us about Sacha Finkelsztajn’s in the Jewish quarter (27 Rue des Rosiers). 

“I love it there, they have the typical Jewish Sandwich!” she exclaimed in French.

“Corned Beef on Rye?” I asked in English.

“Oui,” she confirmed.  “And they have that traditional Jewish bread!”

“We have to go there,” shouted Dillon at the prospect of combining his zest for exploration with his passion for all things edible.

While in New York the typical Jewish deli sandwich is corned beef on rye with mustard, in Paris it turned out to be pastrami on bagel with eggplant and red pepper spreads.

And the bagels were sort of…braided.  “Isn’t that cute,” I thought.

In retrospect, we wanted to see the French traditional bagel to see how it compared to our’s in the US…with the unconscious assumption being that OUR’s was the right one, and this “foreign” one was the adaptation.

The more accurate comparison might be the evolution of the bagel–Sacha’s grandparents Dora and Itzik came from Poland in 1930 and opened the shop in 1946.  Leo Rosten, in “The Joys of Yiddish” credits the first printed mention of the bagel to Krakow, Poland, in 1610.   Maybe this French bagel is the “real” bagel, having come straight from the source.

Sacha himself may not care, as he sits in the back at the cash register and a steady stream of customers from all over continues to line up and order.  At one point while conducting our business in French we discovered I was from the US, my husband Brazilian, the young woman making our sandwiches Polish, the person behind me in line a relocated New Yorker. 

For a minute I wanted to say well what the heck are we all doing speaking French?  But then you realize it’s because you’re in Paris.

In a bright yellow, authentic Jewish deli.

How authentic are your authentic traditions?  Who owns the “real one,” when they spread around the globe?

Bagel photo credits Chocolate and Zucchini (Parisian bagel, left) and NYTimes Blog (New York Bagel, right)