America: In a Sense

Many people in Belize make money from selling used or new clothing that is sent to them from America. The United States of America to be precise. Generally these packages are sent from family members living stateside who haven't forgotten their relatives abroad who are probably in need.

So, a shirt was handed to me by some Belizean acquaintances of mine who recently received quite a shipment of goods from the good ol' USA. I was asked to smell it. Smell the shirt. Yeah. Indeed a strange request but stranger since they wanted me to say whether or not it smelled like America. With eyes upon me, I took the shirt to my face and inhaled. Well?

I smelled newness. I smelled the cardboard box it probably came from. I smelled the fried chicken coming from the restaurant next door. But I wasn't sure what America smelled like, so I asked them. "What do you think America smells like?" No one seemed to have that answer but they were convinced that I would. Do you know what America smells like? Without a great answer I turned the question. "What does Belize smell like to you?" I asked. "Does it smell like the river? like the dump? like the blossoms on that tree? like fried chicken or beans or limones? Does it smell like Coca-Cola?" They could not come up with an answer for that either but my examples seemed to stir a realization that perhaps an entire country does not have one smell to relate to. However, they didn't seem deterred from really believing America has a smell. So I gave them the pleasure of answering, "Yeah, I guess this smells like America. I mean, it came from America so this must be what America smells like." I went on to explain that the boxes had traveled through the air, on airplanes, through various countries and an unknowable number of hands to get all the way to Belize. All this may have tainted the smell. Maybe.

At the very least, this was an amusing situation to all. But the amusement continue. I was then handed a pair of salt & peppa shakers. My friend told me that it was a gift to me and that now I can have a taste of America. This had me completely amused for quite a while. America, oh how great and salty you taste. Its been so long since I tasted you America. At least they had my best interest at heart. Surely, she must miss home terribly - they were thinking - so here is some America for Emily...


Upon arriving home I realized I am now the owner of two salt shakers, no pepper. But its salt from America. Maybe. Oh geez, I should have dived into globalization with them. Perhaps I should have looked at the tag of that shirt that was probably from Vietnam, China or Mexico, our northern neighbor. Well, I'll save all that for the next time I'm asked to identify the smell of America.