I pointed to a poster on the wall that caught my eye. It was a close-up of a plate of steamy hot crayfish. “Did I ever tell you about the night I ate those?”
Their heads snapped up. My son paused mid-bite. My daughter squinted at me like I’d grown another head. “Wait… what? You? Ate that?”
They know me as a strict vegan, so they were aghast.
The story started spilling out before I could even think about whether it was the “right” kind of story to tell.
The Story That Shocked My Teens
Twenty years ago, I spent six weeks living in Xi’an, China, teaching English and soaking up every bit of the culture I could. It was my first time in Asia, and I had gone alone, ready to embrace whatever the experience brought.
A small restaurant close to the city center quickly became one of my go-to spots. The first time, I went there. The first time I went, the owner somehow understood my order—no small feat given my terrible Mandarin. He didn’t speak English, and I relied on a pocket-sized guidebook filled with romanticized Chinese phrases and pictures. But with gestures, pointing, and patience, we communicated.
One night, after I finished my meal, the owner joined me at my table. He poured us each a small glass of some drink I didn’t know and gestured that we should go out. I hesitated for a moment. We didn’t speak the same language. I barely knew him.
But my instincts told me it was okay, and my curiosity nudged me forward. “Why not?” I thought as I climbed into the passenger seat of his car.
At this point in the story, my daughter was aghast. “You just got in his car? You couldn’t even talk to him? What if something happened?”
I paused mid-sentence, wondering if this was the “right” kind of story to share.
A Night of Unexpected Adventure
The night unfolded like a mystery. Each turn brought something I couldn’t have predicted.
We drove through the glowing streets of Xi’an, the headlights illuminating unfamiliar roads. Eventually, we pulled up to a building with a poster of elegant dancers. My excitement grew—I was certain we were about to see a live performance.
But as we stepped inside, the room was pitch-black, save for the hum of music and the faint glow of cigarette embers. Each moment deepened the mystery. “Where are we?” I whispered to myself, scanning the darkness for clues.
Then, the lights flickered on. Couples were slow-dancing in a circle around a central pole. It was like a rollerskating rink without the skates.
The owner motioned for me to join him on the floor. At first, I tried to blend in, moving to the rhythm of the crowd. But it didn’t take long for me to break free, spinning and dancing however I wanted.
It was pure, unplanned joy—the kind you stumble into when you let yourself say yes to life.
Crayfish as a (Temporary) Carnivore
After dancing, we stopped at a different restaurant. There, his girlfriend joined us—a pleasant addition to the night.
As we sat down, I noticed a poster of spicy crayfish on the wall and must have lingered on it a bit too long because, before I knew it, a heaping plate of crayfish arrived at our table.
They handed us plastic gloves, and he demonstrated how to peel off the exoskeleton. When I struggled, he patiently peeled each one for me, handing them over like popcorn.
And I ate them. Ravenously. I was a vegetarian then, but sometimes, when opportunity knocks, you have to answer.
Why I Told Them
When I finished, my son grinned. “You did all that. What else did you do? Send me the story, Mom. I want to read it later.” My daughter, still wide-eyed, shook her head. “I just can’t believe you got in that car! And also, I want to live abroad.”
Their reactions made me pause and reflect.
On one hand, I want my teens to be safe and cautious. I don’t want them jumping into strangers’ cars in foreign countries without a second thought. But on the other hand, I want them to know that life is full of good people and opportunities worth taking a chance on.
That night in Xi’an taught me the beauty of trusting my instincts, stepping out of my comfort zone, and embracing the unknown. It was a night of connection, spontaneity, and cultural surprises—one I’ll never forget.
To be honest, it wasn’t the last time I said yes to a stranger’s unexpected ride or outing. And there were times I said no. Each decision was guided by trust in my instincts and a desire to connect with others.
The Takeaway for Parents
Sharing this story reminded me of the importance of showing our teens who we were before we became their parents. It helps them see us as real people—flawed, adventurous, and sometimes a little impulsive.
More than that, it’s a way to remind them that life is full of surprises if you let it be. While I’ll always encourage them to be thoughtful and careful, I’ll also nudge them to embrace the unknown, trust their instincts, and say yes to the moments that might become their best memories.
So next time a memory surfaces, don’t hesitate to share it. Whether it’s about crayfish in Xi’an or your own moment of spontaneity, let your teens see that life is about taking chances, trusting others, and creating stories worth telling.
And yes, even strict vegans like me have a few crayfish in their past.
