Culture Shock

Some years ago, I decided it was time I visited the United States of America. I had travelled extensively throughout Asia and had noticed how much the youth there were influenced by the American way of life. Their exposure to it was limited to that which was portrayed on television.

Given that some of the poorer countries I visited could not afford to pay for the rights to expensive current programmes, the youth were being influenced by old, out-of-date re-runs of shows such as Dallas, Hawaii Five-O, Fantasy Island and Miami Vice.

This of course had a curious impact upon their dress sense. I was thinking about this one day whilst I was stuck for something to do in Hong Kong. I was planning to take six months off work and travel. I thought about a cycling trip to the good old US of A.

Being somewhat ambitious and perhaps slightly mad, I took it upon myself to start my trip in the land of milk and honey and end it in Costa Rica. I would be cycling through Central America, taking in Baja, then nipping across the Sea of Cortes to mainland Mexico, before stitching together a route that avoided bandits in Guatemala and Honduras, whilst still taking on board the Aztec and Mayan ruins. Sort of an Indiana Jones by bike, but without the arrows, booby-traps and guns.

My trip though Central America will be the subject of another blog. I shall do my best to avoid regaling you with tales of my escape from a mad man in Costa Rica, or elaborating upon a chance encounter with a naturalist-loving sailor in Baja who traded lobsters for pornographic movies. No, this post is about the time I went to America. It is about my first impression of the country and why it is relevant to this, my first entry in the Family Fitness Blog.

Back to the point. I had decided to fly to Los Angeles, wander around there for a while, then travel to San Francisco on a Greyhound Bus. Why? Well because a young Thai guy had told me that when he thought of America, an image of a Greyhound bus sprang to mind. That and the city of Los Angeles, closely followed by San Francisco. Oh and New York, but that was on the other side of the country and I wasn’t going there.

The other thing my Thai friend thought of when I mentioned America was McDonalds. So, I left my bags in an apartment in Los Angeles, along with my bike, and took a walk to McDonalds.

I quickly noticed that walking to McDonalds was not the done thing in LA. In fact, walking in general was practically alien. I had no car, so I walked to the drive-in, took a seat and tried to figure out what to eat.

Walking up to the counter, I stood behind a giant of a man, wearing a large cowboy hat. His jeans were held up by a belt with a buckle the size of Bangkok and he wore impressive boots with silver tips. He lacked spurs and, having checked, I can confirm that he had not arrived by horse.

He proceeded to order a family meal. Quite a large family meal, in fact. I looked around but could not see any smaller cowboys or cowgirls in the seating area. He did not appear to be travelling with a large extended family of any sort. I then realised the food was for him. He was alone.

I discreetly made a note of the contents of his trays:

• Two large quarter pounders with cheese


• A packet of chicken nuggets


• A packet of onion rings


• Three hash browns


• A large milk shake


• A large (and I mean ridiculously large) cup of Coke


• Two large packs of fries


• A chocolate ice cream

This guy was to put it bluntly, obese. He was not alone. Everyone in that particular McDonalds was what I would consider to be obese. It was shocking. I was by comparison, waif-like in appearance.

I thought back to the young guy in Thailand and hoped that he would not try to emulate the American fast food diet. He could wear white jackets with shoulder pads over the top of black T-shirts if he wanted, but I was sure this food would kill him.

Before I set off for my trip, I watched my Thai friend have lunch. He was eating rice with steamed vegetables, some sort of white fish covered in garlic and spices and was washing it all down with a glass of fresh orange juice. He then had a snack of papaya and mango served on a stick, covered in chilli sauce. After that, he was off to play football before his martial arts lesson. He was a fit and healthy chap who could quote lines from Fantasy Island until the cows came home.

Roll the clock on 20 years and there is much talk about a childhood obesity problem prevalent in North America. It should be noted that this is a problem shared by other developed countries. There are news headlines in the UK voicing concern over the millions of pounds being spent by the National Health Service in tackling obesity-related issues, such as diabetes.

For the past couple of weeks, I have researched the issue of obesity and, in particular, the cause of obesity in children.

There are numerous camps. Those that say obesity is to be blamed upon genetics, those that say it is down to a lack of exercise and those that say it is the result of a poor diet.

To be honest, all of these issues contribute to why a person is obese. However, I should state that the general view is that genetics alone is not an excuse or reason to be obese. Whilst it is true that genetics may mean some people are more disposed to becoming obese, it does not in itself cause obesity.

It would appear that obesity starts with diet. It is closely followed by exercise, or rather a lack thereof. These are both areas that we, as parents, influence in our children’s lives.

I have no doubt that if I fed my daughters a diet of McDonalds, or indeed any other fast food, kept them tied to the couch, drove them to school and back and restricted their exercise to that carried out in video games, they too would be overweight.

Back to Los Angeles. I was walking home from McDonalds when I saw a signboard for a new gym that had opened. It was called something original like ‘Frank’s Gym’. Beneath it was a tag line that said: “Putting the ‘F’ back into Fitness”.

This blog will be about Family Fitness and putting a bit of Fun into it, whilst hopefully doing something to combat the problem of childhood obesity.

It is about motivating parents to take an active part in improving their diets and those of their children. It will be light-hearted in its approach. It will not be full of scary diets that force you to eat raw food which tastes like wallpaper, and is only available in small stores run by people who knit yoghurt, hug trees and wear army fatigues to bed.

It will not insist that you live life like a monk sitting high up on a pole, alone in the wilderness. It is about empowering you to share my thoughts with your friends, to discuss it with other parents, to experiment with healthy meal ideas. Have you found a way to get your child to eat broccoli? Great, comment it in the blog. Let others know. Just please go easy on the hash browns. If you must eat them, please at least walk there and leave the car at home.

Oh and by the way, my young Thai friend went on to become the national judo champion. I do not believe he has ever succumbed to the big 'M'.

Eduardo A dos Remedios