Culture Shock over baking soda.

Last Thursday I discovered that I was robbed. (See above post.) I went to French class after nearly five days of not speaking much French, and alas...my head hurt terribly afterwards from trying to get back in that groove again. On my way home, I stopped at the grocery store to purchase the necessary items to make chocolate chip cookies...comfort food to make up for my bad day.

I knew all of it would be easy, except for baking soda. It turns out I was right.

I had looked up on the internet how to say baking soda in French, and had it written down on a sheet of paper. I then went to the areas of the grocery store where (in my American brain) it would be logical to store baking soda. I couldn't find it.

I then walked up and down every single dry goods (food) aisle, and looked and looked and looked. Every single aisle. I couldn't find it.

I walked around for five minutes trying to find someone who worked there, and when I finally found one, I asked where to find the baking soda. His response? "Over there" and pointed way far away. I went "over there" and looked everywhere I could imagine, as slowly on every aisle "over there" as possible, so as not to miss it. I couldn't find it.

I then went over the entire store a second, extremely thorough time, this time with my head pounding and demanding that I quit and go home. I still couldn't find it. And I was beginning to lose my patience as well.

I found another man who worked there, and asked where to find baking soda, and showed him my paper, just in case I was pronouncing it wrong. He pointed "over there" and told me with the cleaning goods. "Baking soda?" I asked. "In the cleaning goods?"

"Oh! Baking soda! No, no, no. In the salt. You know what is salt? Like salt and pepper? With the salt."

I wanted to say, "Yes, I know what is salt. Just because I'm a foreigner doesn't mean I'm stupid. And just because I can't do a simple task like buying baking soda doesn't mean I'm stupid either." But I just nodded and went (back) over to one of the two places where salt is and looked again.

I went as slowly and meticuously through the first salt aisle (where spices and cooking stuff is), and nearly began to cry. Really, how hard can it be? I still couldn't find it. I went to the second place where salt is, and finally saw three small boxes of baking soda mixed in among hundreds of types of salt.

I still needed eggs. When I went to where the eggs are located, I realized I didn't understand the difference between all the types. With tears in my eyes, I asked the woman next to me, "Excuse me? Which eggs are normal eggs?"

She looked at me and saw my distress and told me they were all normal, but that she normally buys *this* type, and pointed to one. I wanted to hug her.

Definition of culture shock: Being reduced to tears when attempting to perform a simple task that you could accomplish in your home culture, but can't in another culture, and it makes you feel about 7 years old.

P.S. I made my chocolate chip cookies, and you can believe that I ate a gazillion of them, and yes...it made me feel so much better.