It is a brilliant melding of cultures working in Australia with a British citizen who has spent the last five years living in New Jersey. Catherine is drawn to the United States, but rightfully so holds her British identiy close and with pride. It was hilarious - from my persective - when a local Aussie was surprised that she was in fact British. "Oh I thought you just had an affluent American accent". Despite her greatest efforts, she has become - to some degree - Americanized. With such a global world where travel and trade between countries is so common place, our identities can easily become blurred and confusing. But it seems, the big bully in social expansion remains the Untied States.
In between hammering on rock, our discussions danced between topics such as the royal family, fashion, cuisine, and Walmart. We speculated and theorized on the so-called Americanization of the globe. Nations around the world obsess over everything American: fast food, Hollywood, Wall Street and more. There is something intoxicatingly appealing about American society, choice, and capitalism that others cannot resist. And yet, these same people that may marvel at the lights of Vegas, push Americanism away, mocking our arrogance, confidence and desire for stuff. There is a palatable envy veiled in skepticism toward our style and pace of life. But is the American way ideal? Is bigger better? Is it possible to have too much choice? Is the world losing something of a greater value as more countries embrace material wealth?
As an anecdote attempting to represent the internal debate I am having, I would like to consider the Austrlian grocery store. Catherine and I did our big shopping for the six week adventure while in Adelaide. This metropolis is Australia's fifth biggest city (Phoenix is the 5th largest in the US), and we went to one of Adelaide's largest grocery stores. When I say one of the largest grocery stores in the 5th largest city, I immediately imagine the Whole Foods, Wegman's, Super Walmarts of Australia. I assume a large, spacious store filled with more variety and choice than one person will ever need. Each department will lure you in with decor that sells the particular products. The fruits and vegetables will be displayed in pseudo carts and and apple barrels. Not only will the deli display cases be filled with countless types of picnic salads and cold-cuts, but a self serve bar will provide additional easy, healthy to-go meal choices. There would be a large organic section sporting earthy hues and natural products. There would be a whole aisle dedicated to cereal and another for chips. When considering something as basic as canned corn, there would be at least a half dozen types (sweet, cream, low sodium, no sugar added, with chilies, all natural etc.) marketed by at least that many different brands. Yet my expectations were completely and utterly American, and I was no longer in America.
As I walked into the the largest that South Australia had to offer, I felt like I was stepping back in time. It reminded me of the grocery stores of the 80's or Rutland's Grand Union of today. When I was 10 (the year was 1988) the first super grocery store, Shaws, came to my hometown in Maine. I remember the wow factor. The store was seemingly endless . I followed my mom around the store in a daze marveling at the size and brightness and wondering what was wrong with the old store down the street. And yet now, just two decades later, I cannot fathom anything less.
The store in Adelaide did not greet you with an ostentatious entrance or marketing designed to draw you into unnecessary purchases before even reaching your cart. Standing on the store's threshold, I immediately became skeptical, doubting that it was even possible to find all that we needed for our trip. I was pleasantly surprised. We wondered up and down simple aisles of products. While there was not an entire bay dedicated to granola, the one they did have was a great combination of oats, nuts, fruit, and rice crisps. Jif, Skippy, Peter Pan, natural, fat free did not exist. Rather, there was one peanut butter brand called Nuts. The choice went only so far as to decide between chunky and smooth. We got chunky. We left the store well equipped and with more food than any two people could every possibly need in six weeks. The grocery store was small and simple, and yet it provided all the essentials as well as many novelties. The sparseness of the store ultimately streamlines your task at hand. There is no need to contemplate the pros and cons of each selection. Instead, you take the product that is there and move on without any regret or question.
As I walked into the the largest that South Australia had to offer, I felt like I was stepping back in time. It reminded me of the grocery stores of the 80's or Rutland's Grand Union of today. When I was 10 (the year was 1988) the first super grocery store, Shaws, came to my hometown in Maine. I remember the wow factor. The store was seemingly endless . I followed my mom around the store in a daze marveling at the size and brightness and wondering what was wrong with the old store down the street. And yet now, just two decades later, I cannot fathom anything less.
The store in Adelaide did not greet you with an ostentatious entrance or marketing designed to draw you into unnecessary purchases before even reaching your cart. Standing on the store's threshold, I immediately became skeptical, doubting that it was even possible to find all that we needed for our trip. I was pleasantly surprised. We wondered up and down simple aisles of products. While there was not an entire bay dedicated to granola, the one they did have was a great combination of oats, nuts, fruit, and rice crisps. Jif, Skippy, Peter Pan, natural, fat free did not exist. Rather, there was one peanut butter brand called Nuts. The choice went only so far as to decide between chunky and smooth. We got chunky. We left the store well equipped and with more food than any two people could every possibly need in six weeks. The grocery store was small and simple, and yet it provided all the essentials as well as many novelties. The sparseness of the store ultimately streamlines your task at hand. There is no need to contemplate the pros and cons of each selection. Instead, you take the product that is there and move on without any regret or question.
Even more bruising to my American pride and sensibility then the realization that my homeland's stores may be a tad excessive, came when I discovered that despite our bounty, there were a couple of products that I have never experienced in the US. Catherine commiserated with me in a subtly mocking tone asking, "how is it possible that these products do not exist in the US?" Two of the items that America would do well to adopt include Hoyt's sun-dried tomatoes and Tim Tams. The sun-dried tomatoes come in a large plastic container with delicious, plump tomatoes suspended in sunflower oil and swimming amongst garlic chunks and capers. Every time we used the tomatoes in the field, I would fantasize about an America that carried this delicacy. I contemplated different dishes I could include them in: pizza, bread, salads, soups, appetizers, snacks, pasta, the list goes on. The second Australian must have that seems not to exist in the United States is the remarkable Tim Tam. These bar like cookies remind me of a thicker version of the Girl Scout Thin Mint. What makes them better than the Scout's treat? You do not need to wait until the Brownie knocks on your door with her overpriced list of must have cookies. Tim Tams are a treat Australians appreciate year round.
So is bigger better? I still am not sure, but the choice is yours.
So is bigger better? I still am not sure, but the choice is yours.
Wow! That really puts things into perspective. We are very lucky to have the things we have but yet we really don't need 5 brands of the same product to chose from. So I guess bigger isn't always better.
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