the veganomaly

I asked my dear cousin Davide (who I often have really wonderful, controversial conversations with) to watch a couple documentaries (Earthlings and Peaceable Kingdom), but somehow we settled on him actually trying veganism for a week, with the intention of writing a piece for this blog. I  gave him no real guidance, and didn’t check in with him on his progress. In part, this was to see how easy it was to ‘navigate’ the vegan world as a newbie (and one in his first year of university), and also, it was to ensure I didn’t give him any real advantages (i.e.: telling him that delicious Daiya exists).

The result is a mixed bag– it didn’t create another vegan for the world [yet], but it is a very honest account of a young man with journalistic zeal who decided rather than take the easy road (by handing off a polished piece about how easy and delicious the experiment was to his ultra-vegan cousin), he reflected his honest feelings about the unplanned week long delve into veganism. I hope you’ll read it and find it as interesting as me (and evidently the McGill Daily who decided to publish it too), do.

The Vegan Trip

My eyes finally open. The curtains have too, but they’ve been that way all night. The rays of the sun pour in and ruthlessly penetrate my pupil’s. After being awake for nearly two days, over the span of a party and two all night clubbing sessions, my body is spent. On a normal Monday morning, I wake up at 7am to get ready for class. On this Monday, I was up at 7am, yet my night was just coming to a close. The world at 7am is a beautiful place if you have not yet slept. Regardless, it is far past 7am, I am still hung-over from a weekend of continuously stomping my liver, and most importantly, I am hungry…

My number one hangover commandment is to wait until 5pm to eat, otherwise the food merely resembles a $20 bill, entered into a change machine upside down. But today, commandments are irrelevant. It is the first of the most miserable month of the year (November) and only a greasy breakfast can satisfy the 30 day hangover that November brings. I rush to the cafeteria, wearing the clothes still caked onto my body from the night before, to make the ominous breakfast deadline. Cracking through the double doors of Bishop Mountain Hall at McGill, I swagger into the food section, just in time to fill my tray. I spot the illusive hot foods tray, and weigh my options. Sausage, eggs, French toast, and a couple others which I tend to ignore. What normally would be an ideal breakfast is instantly shattered however, by a sudden realization. I stare in confusion at the food as the sight of what I’ve come to think of as food options are covered by locks. Jesus! What’s happening? Am I still intoxicated? I expected a green fairy, not a Masterlock. Regardless of my all night clubbing habit, these locks are merely symbolic of the new found element of my life: Veganism.

I have not even begun to select my meal, and yet I can feel the rush of veganism spreading throughout my body. On a morning like this, I would normally manage to utter a few grunts, and the cafeteria ladies, used to this often indecipherable freshman Monday code, would plop some food on my plate. However, this morning, I am forced to think. Not that instrumental of a task. Yet in relevance to food, it’s a rather new found concept. I’ve become accustomed to the university food process and what it entails for someone like me. By this I mean that my weight is of no concern to me, I have no diet, and no restriction on what to consume besides whatever fancies my appetite. And of course with a meal plan, I cook absolutely nothing, so ingredients or calories don’t concern me. But this morning, I have to think. Is this from an animal? Is anything in it from an animal? Is this AN animal? These three criteria reduce my options greatly. I eventually decide upon soy milk, a couple of grape fruits, watermelon, and strawberries.

This option bodes well, as I tend to feel freshened by consuming fruit in the morning, and have since incorporated far more fruit, namely grapefruit, into my diet. As I sit at a cafe table and cut my grapefruit, avoiding the projectiles of juice emanating from it, I think. My Political Theory TA told me the class would take over my mind. At first I thought he was crazy, yet now, he seems logical. In a paper for this class, we are expected to construct a thesis based upon the logical progression of premises. Counterarguments of course, should be included in the paper, and the best ones attack the first premise, the most important leg on the chair. I realize that I would like to view myself as a fairly curious individual. I like to know why. I don’t like to take things at face value, and I like to ask questions. This would be my argument. Yet only a few hours in this vegan experience have led me to realize I have a MAJOR flaw in my argument. One of my premises is off. For me to even be able to have an argument, I need to be alive. To be alive, I need food and beverages. Yet, something so essential to my wellbeing is something which I have totally ignored. I like to analyze political decisions and views. Yet thus far, I have skipped analyzing food.

My quick stint with veganism has taught me that food can be, and really is, an extremely political subject. For many, the manner in which one lives one’s life is the most political thing about oneself. I have a great deal of political views, yet often do not act upon them. Veganism is acting upon one’s views in the most explicit way. Of course, not all vegans choose the lifestyle for social reasons, but for many, it plays a factor. If one is opposed to animals being mistreated, abstaining from using animals or animal products in any way would be a logical political action. Holy Shit! Vegans actually incorporate their views into their life in such an essential way. In a world of loudmouth coffee shop revolutionaries, constantly blabbering about what’s wrong with the world but continuing to pour gasoline on the inferno of rapidly spreading issues, vegans have the commitment to embody what they want to accomplish. In this sense, although I do not intend on becoming a vegan in the near future, I admire vegans.

This realization was the main benefit in my experience as a vegan. Understanding how much of an impact the choice makes on your life, as well as just how difficult it is to do, and to do well. With my dive into the depths of veganism, I was not prepared with the knowledge that I would assume most want to be Vegans acquire. I did no research on how to sustain a healthy vegan lifestyle at all. For the span of the week, it wasn’t worth it. But, I felt the lack of research on my body by the third day. My stomach hurt, and my body felt weak. I am sure this is due to the quick jump from eating anything to just non animal products or to the diet issues brought on by my lack of research. I wouldn’t place the feelings on veganism itself. Beyond the physical discomfort, I also felt far hungrier. At times I felt like a drug addict looking for their next fix, running around the campus drastically searching for food to appease my appetite. One notable experience came at the Subway on campus. I had done my research and discerned that the Veggie Delight option, with no cheese, on Italian bread, met the vegan standards. So I ordered it. The man making the sandwich asked me if I really wanted no cheese a couple times as if he did not believe me. After I assured him no cheese was wanted, he stopped, gave a look of utter despair, and muttered, “That’s depressing.” When I think about the reasons for becoming a vegan, the decision certainly wasn’t depressing. However when I sank my teeth in the sandwich, and was still incredibly hungry after it had vanished, my taste buds and appetite were more depressed than ever.

As the week came to an end, I craved meat more than anything. The famous smoked meat sandwiches at Schwartz’s appeared in my dreams a couple times during the week. And so, it felt natural to have the fat sandwich as my initiation back into the world of the omnivore. As I plastered the sandwich in unusually large amounts of mustard, I thought about the week. I concluded that it is unlikely that I will become a vegan, at this point, or in the future as I know it. That type of dietary and lifestyle change takes a great deal of commitment, which for me, would require a raging passion for the issue at hand. I have not yet found that passion in the matter of food. To be fair, I have not done much research on the matter. I certainly will now however, as the experience has got me interested in veganism at least in an academic sense. An article was brought to my attention which claimed that vegetarians and vegans are more empathic than omnivores, which leads them to make their dietary choice. I believe this to be true, and place my decision not to adopt the vegan lifestyle almost solely on that concept. I have not developed the passion which would allow me to make such a drastic alteration in my life. Yet, all it took to return to my omnivore routine was the thought of the uniquely appetizing hallmark of Schwartz’s.  The time for veganism in my existence is not yet here. Yet this experience has led me to believe that if the second hand of the clock is heading in the direction of veganism, it has increased its pace…

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For the holidays I gave Dav a copy of Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer. He is really excited to ‘dig in’, and when he’s finished it, I’m hoping he’ll agree to write another piece for the blog, and perhaps try his hand at a vegetarian diet, with proper planning this time!