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Sunday, December 5, 2010

Capitalism: A Taste Story


My first order of business after clearing immigration/customs upon returning from Vietnam was to get McDonald's. I wasn't in the mood for McDonald's. I wasn't even hungry. I was yearning for the flavor of America. The taste of capitalistic efficiency, equality, peace of mind and comfort. For around $6, I got all of that and a little more. And yes, when you are tired and jet lagged from 27 hours of travel, these abstract notions were tangible in the warmth of a cheeseburger and a medium order of fries. Who knew that mass produced food can be so enlightening to a foodie like me? There I was, in Terminal 2 of Chicago O'Hare, happy as a clam.

1. Capitalistic efficiency - It took me approximately 100 seconds to get my food after a swift swipe of my debit card. The line was more than 15 people deep with more lining up still. The team of about 11-12 employees behind the counter was working at a frantic speed, cranking out white paper bags of fast food and delivering them with smiles. Time is money and cash registers were cha-chinging with every passing second. This was a far cry from the incompetence I observed while overseas. Lines were long. Workers were unorganized and unfriendly. When you are used to a certain expectation for years, enduring countless repeated inefficiencies was frustrating to say the least. It also got me wondering about the economic growth of Vietnam...but that's a different story.

2. Equality - In America, we like to think everyone deserves to be treated equally. If Barack Obama ordered a cheeseburger from McDonald's, he would get the exact same thing as me or the guy next to me. His order may be served up with a bigger smile, but you get the point. The prices for the food were listed brightly and clearly. You knew exactly how much you're going to pay and exactly what you're going to get. Sounds simple enough, but don't take it for granted. While I was with my friend abroad, we were ripped off many times. He was often being overcharged because he was a white man in a suit on the streets of Hanoi. I was often being overcharged because I was not a local. Sometimes there were no price tags and when there were price tags, you couldn't trust them.

Social Experiment: For some reason Vietnamese people thought I was either Japanese or Korean (I've actually been mistaken for Japanese since I was a child). I decided to walk into a clothing store and pretend I did not speak Vietnamese. I asked for the price of a wool coat in my accent-free English and the saleswomen actually talked amongst themselves, mumbling about how much more to charge me because I was a foreigner. I shook my head in disgust and walked straight out. I was overwhelmed. I felt like I was suffocating from the injustice. I understand this is a poor country and everyone needs to make a buck, but at what cost of morality? Of course, these things happen in America all the time, but not as blatantly and with such disregard.

3. Peace of mind and comfort - I knew the food I ate was safe and that the McDonald's has been inspected by a government official who was not bribed (99% sure). I knew there was some sort of quality control in this place. This was the country of voluntary recalls. Where the desire for safety and quality is driven by capitalism. Money talks and it told me that any scandal over unsafe anything meant less cha-chinging at the cash registers.

It pains me to think about how the things I witnessed and experienced were the product of years of war and civil unrest. I am no expert in history or politics, but maybe the lack of development is due to the constant occupation by so many forces over the past few centuries - from the Chinese, French and Japanese to the Americans. I wish for improvement in my former home country and hope that my experience will be a bit different upon my next trip back. But for now, I am glad to call America my home. I missed the simple things I took for granted. I missed the familiarity of everything. I missed home! I was grateful to come home and more grateful that my parents made the bold decision to move to America 18 years ago. America is not perfect, but it is a country with more basic luxuries than a lot of other places.


Footnote:
Hours later, my stomach didn't feel all that great. I had been eating fairly healthy and a big dose of saturated fat did not do me good. The taste of capitalism may be delicious at times, but it doesn't come without consequence.

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