Eating what is set before you

I lived in Japan for three years and never ate raw horse meat, although I heard that it was a delicacy in the region where I lived. It was called basashi, I heard, and kept wondering if there would be a time when I would have to swallow my revulsion and taste it. But it never happened.

There were new and strange foods, though, and I learned that it was part of being a missionary to learn to eat things I had never tasted before, to accept hospitality as well as to provide it. Being a missionary was not about being in charge all of the time. It was about learning to live in a strange place, and eat new things with chopsticks and humility. I'll be honest, there were times when I would have identified with Peter—being offered a meal, and wanting to shrink away and say, "Oh no, Lord, I would never eat that! It can't be right to eat that!"

I remember the first time I bit down on something deep-fried, only to be told that it was taco—octopus. It was OK, actually, after the initial shock of picturing an octopus tentacle passed over me. I also remember the surprise of tasting wasabi (Japanese horseradish) for the first time. Many times I learned that a new food that I did not want to try was a gourmet dish and an act of extravagant hospitality.