The Fruits of Travel
by Katie Fiorella
Perusing the markets of downtown Bangkok, I encountered a multitude of new snacks, drinks, and fruits. I had assumed that the pineapples, mangoes, coconuts and papayas I had tried before had well exposed me to tropical delicacies. And, considering that these fruits are mainstays in most US supermarkets, I had presumed there would be no surprises. But when I gazed upon the large spiky outer shell that gave way to fragrant durian or caught site of the green tentacles emerging from tiny, red rambutan I was in unfamiliar territory. The Thai markets featured a full array of fruits I had never seen before, including longan (lamyai), pomelo (som-o), rambutan (ngoh), mangosteen (mangkhud), durian (turian), jackfruit (kha noon), and dragonfruit.
As a longtime fruit lover, I was thrilled to discover a new plethora of varieties. I eagerly tried each kind and found each more delicious than the last. More often than not, I could buy the fresh fruit already sliced for easy consumption; a real boon considering the removal of some shells required a machete and the shells of others had to be removed from grape-sized pieces. Even the fruits I had tried before came in new varieties. Different types of papaya and new varieties of mango, often eaten unripe, soon ascended my list of favorites as well.
About a month into my two-month stay in Thailand, I spotted an apple at a market. Not wanting to abandon my favorite fruit, I handed over 60 baht for my large apple, an exorbitant price seeing as a mango costs 10 baht, or 25 cents. When I bit into the apple I had craved, it was mealy and flavorless. I picked off the bar tag sticker, the first I had seen in Thailand, and saw that my apple was imported from Japan. Biting into that apple, the one that had not seemed out of place at the market until I realized it tasted bad, made me consider just how strange it was that I had encountered an apple in Thailand. With so many tasty local fruits, why would anyone want to eat a sub-par apple?
I had wondered if the difficulty often involved in cracking shells and peeling these fruit kept them out of US supermarkets. Or maybe they were simply too unfamiliar to attract customers. And, perhaps they were too fragile ship to the other side of the world. After all, I had not seen these fruits before because they are not grown in the US.
In the years after my trip, I have, on rare occasion, spotted some of my favorite Thai fruits in specialty supermarkets. Though I was excited to see rambutan, the tentacles that were a vibrant green in Thailand looked decidedly brown. Though the $8/lb price tag was a deterrent, more than anything else, I was most put off by the rambutan because it reminded me of the apple I ate in Thailand. Just like the apple, the rambutan was out of place, had lost its luster, and, I guessed, would not taste very good.
Still, was my aversion to this imported fruit fair? Not everyone can travel to the other side of the world to taste new varieties of fruits and vegetables. Does that mean others should go without ever sampling mangosteen? Or drangonfruit? Or longan? Maybe. There is a fine line to be drawn when it comes to enjoying what is local and what is exotic. Transporting all foods to all supermarkets nullifies the excitement that comes with the exotic and introduces a less tasty version. But, a moratorium on imports limits widespread experience and enjoyment. The availability of nearly every fruit and vegetable throughout the year has made both seasonal and regional varieties less exciting and less enjoyable. My grandmother has told me stories about how she used to anticipate the first peach of the season, something that no longer arrives, since the season never ends. What is special about the markets of other countries might similarly be lost if supermarkets carry every fruit. I do not have a firm answer on whether pursuing the exotic or confinement to what is locally available is best. Outside of Southeast Asia, I will not often eat longan, pomelo, rambutan, mangosteen, durian, jackfruit, and dragonfruit, but at some point I am sure I will want to taste each again.