Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Dairy Training

Peru has taken a lot from me: My dignity. Creature comforts. Hygiene. But one thing I will not allow it to take- no matter how hard it tries- is the very thing that it is slowly robbing from me right now- cheese. That's right, one of the purest joys in life is slowly slipping away from me. Cheese and I are on a break. I'm not happy about it.

I, a born and raised Wisconsin girl, monger of cheese, and connoisseur of all things cheddar, am becoming lactose intolerant.
SHIT.
Apparently it happens when you live in a place where the only cheese produced tastes like tasteless, saltless, lifeless rubber. Harsh? Sorry, Peru, you're stealing cheese from me. Not ready to play nice yet. This is an epic loss.
Not to get gross with you, but GAS. That's what I'm talking about. And illness. And extreme discomfort. How could this be, cheese? I thought we were meant for each other? I never saw this coming, despite the obvious signs.
I think I've always had some form of lactose intolerance. I hated milk so much as an infant that by the time I was walking I had earned the nickname "Crab" from a beloved family friend. I was a colicky little beast of a baby from what I can tell, but I've been told it was because I had a permanent stomachache on account of the milk, only this was discovered too late. As a kid, I could never finish a full carton of milk at lunch, unless it was chocolate. Even then, I had recess tummy aches after every lunch.
Yogurt makes my tummy turn too, even though I've never done anything to yogurt. I think it's great and even pretty, but in return it hates me. Jealous bitch.
So my dairy intake has been reserved for the only 2 indispensable foods in the dairy column- ice cream and cheese.
That is until Peru happened. Like I said, I've heard of this happening to expats and specifically to Peace Corps volunteers. It makes sense. Humans really weren't meant to consume the food that nature intended for baby animals. Bodies evolve and devolve and develop. I get it. If you don't give your body dairy, it will adjust accordingly. Which, unfortunately for me- and anyone I decide to share a pizza with- means that my body hates dairy and hates me when I find dairy.
This is upsetting. But there is an upside- I can change this. By slowly introducing any dairy I can get back into my body, I can slow the process of what is happening. Thus commencing... Project Dairy Training. That's right, any action to be taken is underway. I spend silly amounts of money on squishy and often flavorless cheese at the fancy supermarkets. I wince in pain and disgust while drinking warm yogurt that can't be good for you... yes, you drink it here. I order extra milk with coffee, so that I can stomach the milk. How else would I drink thick nasty white stuff that I don't even like at home? I eat ice cream more than usual, even if it means an afternoon of discomfort. I'm on my way.
Dairy training: in progress. End goal? CHEESE CURDS. I have less than a month before I arrive in America's Dairyland. I refuse to return as an outsider, immune to the spoils of the region. I MUST be able to eat copious amounts of cheese without compromising visiting time. And if I'm not totally 100% lactose ready, I will still not succumb and sacrifice sweet delicious cheese in my life.
So, family, you have been warned. Nasty gas or not, I will eat as much cheese as I can while I am home. I'll do my best to prepare in the coming 3 weeks. Let's hope for the best.
You haven't gotten the best of me yet, Peru. I will prevail. And eat cheese... in large quantities. Cannot wait. Just a few more weeks of downing the hard stuff and then it's smooth sailing in a sea of cheese.
Family- prepare :)


The couple in happier days.

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