A rough email, to Katherine.

Ok, first of all I just had a crazy food experience. Let me preface this by saying that I am not a milk person. I didn't drink milk the whole time I was in Hawaii, and when I'm at home in San Jose I only drink fat-free because it's close to water. And I like water. I had a sip of whole milk once. haha. It was gross and felt like I was drinking cream. And you know my overactive gag reflex for mold? Old milk also does the trick. Ok, now for the story: my host sister asked me if I was hungry, and she doesn't take no for an answer, so I said I was just a little bit hungry. She said "Ok, I'll bring you some crackers. And two kinds of milk so you can try them." Katherine, I had an instant red alert going off in my head. Milk is sketchy at best in America for me, but in another country? Holy cow. Danger danger! She didn't just say she would bring me a glass of milk, she said she would bring me two kinds. To TRY. Which means that, you know, "try" implies a big possibility of dislike. So from the get-go it was pretty much gauranteed that I wouldn't like this milk. Because, as I said, I am not a milk person even in America. So she brings me three bags of different kinds of crackers and lays them out on the table, with two empty glasses. And does she come in holding two cartons of milk? Two glass pitchers of milk? Or even two cardboard boxes of milk? No! She brings in two BAGS of milk. The bags are square, like bean bags, made of plastic and about five inches long on each side. She pours about an inch into one glass. Warning number one: It's reeeeeeally thick. She explains that it's not like normal milk, it's more like sour milk. I try it. It smells and tastes like, well, sour milk. But not like barfy. I could drink it if I absolutely had to, but it isn't what i would call tasty. Definitely, definitely sour. Even though she said so, I still wasn't prepared for it to actually be sour. I try a sip of the other kind. It's definitely sweeter, but only because the first one was so sour. I said I liked the second one better, so she pours me a glass full and leaves. It was ok, really, especially at first. I might be able to learn to like it. But by the bottom of the glass, I had to shove my mouth full of crackers and then just pour it down my throat to avoid tasting it. And my stomach felt kinda angry at me. I paused partway through and said, "You ok down there, stomach?" I'm not joking. I actually said that outloud. But I finished the whole glass of sour milk. I am so proud. Ok, I don't know why I told you all that in such depth. Wait, yes, I know why: I have sour milk breath and burps right now and I needed somebody to appreciate that.