I love apples.

I love the way they crunch and how the juices spill into my mouth. I love the way they leave my teeth smooth after biting into them.

Apples in Japan are huge.
And since they are so big, I like to cut my apples in half to devour the two halves at my leisure.

I sometimes take one of these halves with me to work as a part of my lunch. As a Canadian gal, I have grown up learning that the standard lunch to have is one in which involves a sandwich, milk, piece of fruit (banana, orange, apple), and some kind of treat your mom puts into the brown paper bag with a note that says she loves you and to remember to be a good girl or boy.

I didn't have that growing up as a child.

Being the only Chinese family (at the time) in a school full of upper-middle class kids, my mother learned through the cruelty of children that whatever she put in our lunches was "inappropriate" and therefore scorned by all. One tyrant of a girl made lunch a continual hell for me. As a matter of fact, she made the whole of my elementary years a living hell. Nothing was good enough for her. When my mom finally figured out that fried rice wasn't "appropriate" enough to bring for lunch and that a sandwich was, she made us tuna fish sandwiches and sent us packing out the door with the hopes that we wouldn't come back humiliated and hungry.

Turns out that tuna fish wasn't in vogue anymore.

"Eww..! What is that smell?! Is that tuna fish?!!"

Apparently the appropriate kind of sandwich to have was one made with ham...and NOT JUST ANY ORDINARY KIND OF HAM--it had to be Black Forest Ham.

I'll never forget those lovely lunch hours.

Back to apples.

Japanese people eat apples differently. There is a certain way in which you should eat one. It should be peeled and then cut into wedges, as opposed to the old North American way (foreigners' way??) of biting into one as is.

So imagine when I bring out my half apple and start crunching away?

Oh. The. Scrutiny.

Oh. The. Shock.

The staff room was quiet when some of my students came in and caught me eating my apple in that fashion:

"LOOK! LOOK! Ellen-sensei's eating an apple!!!"

The stares as I bit into my Fuji apple again.

"WEIRD!! Look at how she eats it!!"

"Are you only eating an apple for lunch? ONLY AN APPLE??!!"

I instantly felt anxiety and that old feeling of humiliation, but then I remembered that I wasn't an 8 year old girl anymore and that I needn't feel that way.

"What's wrong with eating an apple like this?", I asked.

My students floundered as they sought for an answer. Alas, they lost interest as I bit into the juicy flesh and stared right back at them. After a moment of consideration, they left me to eat as I pleased.

Today I brought an orange with me to accompany my sandwich for lunch. The orange wasn't cut into wedges but placed whole, as is, into my bag.

Did I eat it today?

No.

I may be a grown up woman, but perhaps those lovely little lunch hours of my childhood have left a lasting impression on me. Or perhaps, it's because no one likes to be scrutinized when they eat. It's pretty hard sometimes for a foreigner to eat lunch comfortably in Japan, especially when everyone has those cute little bento boxes made by either their wives, themselves, or their mothers.

I'll try to eat my orange tomorrow.

Uncut.