Remarkable findings

I squeezed my eyes shut because I couldn't watch as she bit the head off a steaming, ruby red sea creature, spit it out, and carefully place it down as if it were a newborn. Big inhale, heavy sigh. I heard bones. My plate was still empty. Its beady, black eyes were enlarged poppy seeds, just as bright as they were lifeless.
It was freshly plucked from the Yangtze River, a prized winner of sorts.
There was potent fearfulness that reflected in my softening eyes and facial expression. Hardly an ethical dilemma to my Chinese peers. There was another one under the dimming lights and I think I saw its soul through the steam. My garnished crimson friend was just an object, basking in all the flavors of its afterlife.
Why, I thought. What are you afraid of? Being out of your comfort zone?
Suddenly here was death rotating on a centerpiece, lingering. The smells engulfed me and soothed certain dreads, whispering like the hungry ghosts of Chinese ancestors.
All the elders were admirable. Without interaction, (just observation) they taught me incalculable wisdom. They taught me how to live without greed.
It beckoned me with its full-bodied zeal. If I ate it, I would have to have its head in my mouth. This was an alarming realization, a sobering thought.

Americans are not only removed from death; we are removed from what we consume. We accept boneless meat as if that treatment toward animals is normative behavior. In the end, which is more humane? In China food is with family and ancestors; they know how to incorporate the stories, tradition, acknowledgement and respect into their bowls. It felt spiritual but it wasn't religion, it was culture. When they feed their bodies, they feed their souls. Being healthy- adopting their lifestyle-was simple since how to live is so embedded into their culture. I rose with the sun; the day got to crack its back and stretch out its limbs before it began.
It went by too quickly, my semester at Huazhong Normal University in Wuhan, central China. It went as fast as a vaccination: before I got to "3" it struck me, challenged me, it hurt. It forced me to think harder and more complexly about my incessant, universal pondering. It made me deviate away from the escape I thought it would be, instead shedding light on the themes that traced the walls of my illuminated dreams: friendship, humanity, existence, death, but mainly food.