Food

Let me be honest, I was terrified of being hungry the whole time. I eat a lot, I cook a lot, I watch food on TV, read magazines and cookbooks, and basically think about food a large portion of my day. The philosophy about food at the retreat was such that you do not eat to the point of fullness since it is hard to meditate and stay awake when you are too full. You are not supposed to eat fatty or sugary stuff for the same reason as well as refrain from eating meat since philosophy of not killing any creature is paramount. The technique also requires that you do not eat after lunch (11 am). Returning students get tea at 5 pm and they allow new students to eat fruit along with their drink. Ok, so, since I eat the largest portion of my food at dinner, I was concerned as you can imagine. They specifically tell you not to bring any food so trio bars and chocolate stash were out of the question. Did I say I was concerned?

Here is the good news: I was fine, more than fine. I was not hungry at all. Yes, my stomach, along with 100 other people’s stomach, were growling at 9 pm before bed and during 4:30 am meditation sessions but it was manageable. On the afternoon of the last day, when they allowed us to talk to each other so as not to shock us upon returning to the real world, I was surprised to see how much harder the food issue was for younger women. They kept talking about craving pizza, donuts, chicken wings and planned their departure at 6:30 am the next day to drive to the nearest restaurant they can find for the kind of food they missed. They hated the food served (mostly vegan). I thought the food was plenty and tasty, considering we were all too hungry to be critical, but also there was a lot of food if you wanted to go back and get some more from the buffet. I made the decision not to fill my plate too full and to never go back for seconds. And I have stuck to my decision. Teacher said to get up from the table with quarter of your stomach still empty. I can’t say that was the case but 15% of my stomach was still available for more consumption at the end of each food break.

As the days went on I started cutting down on food further. At the beginning I was scared of being hungry-- I think we all were—so I would eat a banana, half an apple and a small orange at 5 pm and force myself to drink some sort of herbal tea with milk. For those of you who know me, I do not like tea or coffee (unless it is served with chocolate cake or a scone at the least) and do not like bananas so I was stocking up for sure out of fear of hunger. But halfway through, I was eating either a small orange or an apple and nothing more. Last day I forgot to eat at 5 pm and twice I passed dessert! Ok, well, it was vegan rhubarb crumble but hey, it is still impressive for my eating standards…

Though I thought about a brownie or two in the afternoon once or twice, I was really too preoccupied with the technique and giving it a fair chance to be consumed about food dreams. Starting about day 5, they started giving us sugar after lunch. It was vegan chocolate cake or vegan ginger cookie (in other words, really sucky versions of the actual dessert it was named after) but it hit the spot and I was grateful. One day they had a real chocolate chip cookie but they were the size of a quarter so as we say in Turkish “disimin kovuguna gitmedi” (didn’t even fill the space in between my teeth). The sign read “cookies contain BUTTER!” I watched as every single person took at least 2 or 3 pieces and I smiled (ok, maybe smirked) inside. Why you ask. I know I am about to offend or really hurt a few of my friends with this statement, and so let me apologize in advance for being insensitive and ignorant about this issue.. BUT, I have never met a German who had wheat allergies and therefore couldn’t eat bread, never met a Swiss or French who couldn’t eat cheese and was lactose intolerant and have never met a person from the Third World or the developing world who had an allergy for specific food groups. And if I did, let me assure you that they were all very well educated, well read, liberal people with specific environmental and health point of view, possibly working for an ivy league university or a non-profit social agency, after living in the US for 10 years who defined themselves as avid yogis.

I find this aversion to food to be an affliction of the West, particularly among Americans who have such abundance of food and choices that in the midst of their overwhelmed food selection they decide to leave out categories of food because they are convinced it is not good for their body or it makes them bloated etc. I find this to be almost puritanical, a moralistic way of looking at food and earthly delights. I find myself smiling when I watch Survivor and after weeks of serious hunger, seeing vegan or vegetarian, skinny women with no fat reserves, who formerly found many forms of food “gross,” now sucking a tiny fish’s eyeballs out or licking somebody else’s already eaten chicken bones. I doubt if I was to feed an 80 lb Ethiopian refugee, he would turn down meat or dairy, or wheat or strawberries, regardless of the reaction their stomach may have to these foods. So, anyways, I have this slight amusement about food allergies. And YES, I know there must be legitimate environmental reasons as to why this happens here more, but at the end of the day, I grew up in Turkey and we say “misafir umdugunu degil, buldugunu yermis” (the guest eats what she finds, not what she hopes to find).

Notice that the workshop we are attending is completely free: to live like a nun/monk, you must live on the charity of others and devote yourself to nothing but meditation. This teaches you humility, you eat what you are given and this allows you to break down your ego, accepting handouts from others. Yet, women were constantly whispering to the female manager (you are allowed to talk to her about issues as they come up) to make sure there was soy in this food, or no soy in that food, or if there was dairy in this or wheat in that, and there must be rice milk along with soy and rice bread along with sprout one, and there should be signs about this on the table etc. So you can understand my amusement watching people get in line for their 3rd chocolate chip cookie with BUTTER and white flour on day 7.

I was also fascinated by the Asian women in the group, literally 1/3rd of my size in body, yet eating 3 times the food I ate. I would try to not stare at their healthy appetite and their highly noisy and quick chopstick skills. Always in line 1st, as soon as the gong was heard, and last ones to leave the dining hall. As someone who likes to feed people and who likes food, I was mesmerized by their appetite.

Differences between returning students and new students in terms of food consumption were also fascinating. Our barely containable lunges at the food and the way we ate-- quickly and noisily-- was in stark contrast to their slow movements in and out of the dining room, very slow chewing and always looking at the mountains or still meditating with eyes closed while eating .

There was actually sugar available at the retreat. They had honey for tea and turbinado sugar as well. I am not much of a drinker but by 3rd day I noticed a drink no one was paying attention to. It was called INCA and said to be fully natural, preservative and additive free, made out of roasted barley and rye, a natural drink of the gods. I smelled it and found it to be pleasant to try, a cross between coffee and hot chocolate. It wasn’t bitter like coffee but had a roasted smell to it. I would add some turbinado sugar and a lot of milk at 5 pm and it was sweet and satisfying. We had three containers that had milk in them. Signs read: rice, soy, COW 2%. Since people were routinely in line for the first two and constantly asking the female manager to replenish the soy milk container, I felt bad for the 2% cow. It was usually neglected and pushed to the side so it called out to me. I was a favorite of hers and she was a favorite of mine.

Turbinado sugar was hard to dissolve in cold milk and not as sweet as regular sugar. They put it in a glass container with a tiny spout that required violent shaking for puny amount of sugar to dispense. As I was trying to pour more I would feel the frustration rising up, thinking why can’t they just put it in a jar with no lid and a spoon, and feeling rushed since more ladies were waiting behind me. After about 5th or 6th shake a voice in my head said that’s probably good enough but my hand wanted one more which caused the cover to come off and about 1 cup of sugar to land in my drink. I was so impressed with myself that I didn’t shout ‘SHIT!’, just a gurgled but somewhat quiet ‘HEEEEEEEE!’ I cleaned up the vicinity and ignored the voice in my head asking “is that enough sugar now, you think?” and decided that I should drink and not waste it as a punishment. Punishment is not a part of the vipassana philosophy, mind you, but I decided that it was worth it to pay for my sugary greed. I tried not to stir it but after about 4th sip I decided it can’t be done unless I wanted to vomit and dumped the sugary drink into the compost pile. Compost pile? Of course we had one!