Downtown Hanover, as most of us would agree, provides everything that a college student could ever need. When I first strolled down Main Street, I was almost overwhelmed by the variety of shops there. In fact, I didn't dare venture past the Dartmouth Co-op. Main Street, to me, seemed to continue on forever. And after almost half a year of exploring it (though I have not experienced all that is there), I have come to the conclusion that the only thing that prevents Main Street from achieving a hallowed status akin to that of the Downtown Crossing in Boston is its dearth of authentic Chinese food.
I really miss good Chinese food. I'm talking about the real deal here -- not the rubbery lo mein that you can get a little further down Main Street or the poor excuse for potstickers (we call them dumplings back home) that Dartmouth Dining Services churns out periodically. Every morning, I try to visualize a steaming plate of chicken rice within the confines of my room. Every afternoon, when I go to get my lunch, I am always disappointed.
For me, the main issue that this campus needs to deal with is not the creation of an ethnically-based Asian-American Studies major or minor, but the issue of ethnically-delineated food services. Have you tried traditional Chinese chng tng or Indian dosai? It really makes me fear -- indeed, shiver -- whenever I see a poor imitation of the real thing placed behind some glass panel at Homeplate. Nice try, DDS, but it doesn't quite cut it. Perhaps I have to wait until the summer to go home to Singapore to savor all the ethnic delicacies that are simply waiting to be devoured. Has anyone tried the vegetarian lo mein noodles and cried out in agony? Or is my voice merely a lonely crying out in the ethnic wilderness that is Food Court, that is all of Dartmouth's eating establishments?
Indeed, faithful readers, it was a cold, dark and dreary day in Hanover the day I consigned myself to paying $4.50 of my hard-earned money for three rather small, dry and sad-looking "potstickers." I tried to console myself with the fact that DDS (rather kindly, I must add) provided me with some white rice to complement their main offering of the day at Homeplate. I vividly recall staring at my food; true to the test, those three insidious "potstickers" stared back at me, almost willing me to bite into them and uncover what marvelous dry turkey they had. Of course, lest you think less of me, I ate it all like a man -- albeit with five full glasses of water to aid the unpleasant digestive process. It was neither fulfilling nor satisfying, but one must count his blessings. I guess I'll just have to stick to the usual staple of sandwiches, pasta and wraps.
I'm sure all of you that come from different backgrounds -- Indian, Chinese, Malay, Thai, Korean -- all miss your respective ethnic foods. I should tell you that you are not alone, my friends, for I too share in your pain. However, we probably shouldn't get our hopes too high, seeing how charged the whole issue of ethnicity is at Dartmouth, it would not be in our best interests to spark off an infuriated debate, with letters and opinions flying in the air. The enemy lurks all around us and we must always be on our guard -- the next you know, there might be a new culture night at Food Court where they serve up the latest poor renditions of Indian curry or Malay satay. I am sad to inform you that in this epic struggle taking place in Hanover, we are destined to be the losing minority.
For now, it'll just be the same old badly done imitations of the real thing for me, day in day out -- the winter may have ended, but the dark clouds that are undoubtedly gathering over my stomach are just starting to set in. The only silver lining that I can find is the possibility that I could make a single trip to Food Court to stock up enough wraps for the whole week -- then, I could be content with staying in my room and conjuring up more tantalizing images of authentic ethnic food.
