Dear Oprah,

     This picture reminded me of the story of the orange.  What you see here is lunch time for the nursery students of CGA.  All of the students and the teachers would walk to a nearby empty house for lunch.  The school paid a local woman to make lunch for all of the nursery students and staff so we would leave the nursery building (pictured below) and walk over to the building you see this student sitting against with his lunch. A long line would form and we would wind slowly through the empty rooms until we came to the huge pot of food, the size of 2 coffee tables stacked on top of one another.  The meals had names that I can't recall and were largely unrecognizable. We (the Americans) did our best to eat anything that was placed in front of us as we didn't want to be disrespectful by throwing away uneaten portions that were so highly coveted by all. The meals seemed to repeat themselves every few days and so they became familiar by sight. When something was being served that I didn't particularly love, I would go thru the line, find a child who looked like they could use an extra portion of food and then give them my plate.  I traveled everywhere with my trusty backpack that held necessities like toilet paper and uneaten oranges I would stow away after breakfast.
     One day at lunch, eyeing the day's menu, I pulled my "share the plate" move and pulled out my trusty orange for lunch.  I carefully peeled it in its entirety and took a juicy bite. Just as I was bringing it up to my mouth for a second go, I dropped it onto the ground.  It was the same ground you see in the picture above.  For most Americans, including me, the natural response would be to immediately throw the orange away.  But as I bent down to pick it up, I felt many, many little eyes looking at me...or rather, at the orange. I had been a part of the culture just long enough to realize how ungrateful I would appear tossing the orange away. Wasteful Americans, they say. Not to mention that I was hungry! For just a split second, I thought I understood the world I was in just a little better. Hunger combined with present circumstances were leading me to make choices I would never even encounter in my "real life". And yet, how much more "real" does it really get than appreciating every morsel and being thankful for the parts of the orange that didn't touch the ground? So I ate it.  The part that I thought was safe.
     I've never looked at an orange the same way.  Guess I never will.