Day 2
Date Unknown
Yakutsk, Siberia, USSR
Ivan returned when lunch was served. With him he brought the same Asian woman as he had the previous day, as well as a clipboard. The woman had a stethoscope around her neck and was holding a clipboard. She called over one of the nurses, who brought food and other equipment. The nurse put the food on the nightstand before retrieving the other equipment as Ivan directed Jennifer's attention to other topics.
Ivan was standing, holding the clipboard as he talked to Jennifer. “This is Tamara Ayaalovna. She is one of the doctors here.” He gestured, indicating that he was referring to the woman with the clipboard. “I need you to cooperate with her as she does a medical exam. We need to check your health, to make sure you have no infection. We have been delayed due to your poor mental state and your distrust in the translator. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Ivan indicated to the doctor that Jennifer was ready, and she begun the examination, asking many questions and verbally guiding her through the process. Jennifer tried to cooperate, although it was very uncomfortable. The process didn't seem too unusual to Jennifer, besides the awkwardness of needing to use a translator, although it was clear that the technology was behind what she was accustomed to. Without any knowledge of the history of the technology, Jennifer couldn't tell by how much. At the end, Jennifer was told what symptoms she should alert the doctor to if she experiences.
After the doctor had finished, she and the nurse left Jennifer, and Ivan directed Jennifer's attention to what he was holding. “I brought you pens, pencils and paper as you asked.”
“Thanks.” Jennifer paused before she brought up something else which she felt she needed. “I would like to go for a walk.”
“You haven't yet recovered.”
“Yes, but unless there is too much strain on the body, exercise helps, especially for mental issues.”
“You are not to go outside.”
“I just need someone to take me around the building, in permitted areas, so that I can use my legs.”
Ivan walked to the doctor and talked with her before returning to Jennifer. “This will be permitted, but not for long. But you need to eat first, while your food is still hot. I will come to get you later.” Ivan left Jennifer alone to eat.
A story of an American woman who finds herself in the past in Siberia. Picture book format, currently updating twice a month. View the story posts in chronological order with the archive tab.
27 February 2018
21 February 2018
Initial Arrival 12
Day 2
Date Unknown
Yakutsk, Siberia, USSR
That morning, one of the other patients walked up to Jennifer and tried to talk to her. Jennifer didn't understand what this woman was saying. She diverted her eyes from the woman and tried to ignore her. This didn't make the woman go away.
Jennifer's frustration with the situation continued to grow. She growled. More calmly, she eventually tried to talk. “I can't understand you. Will you please just leave?”
When this didn't work, she sighed and put her hands over her face. Some other patients came up to try to talk to this woman. The situation overwhelmed Jennifer, and she eventually started to cry again. Eventually, one of the nurses came and broke up the conversation, and pulled the curtain partially around her bed.
Date Unknown
Yakutsk, Siberia, USSR
That morning, one of the other patients walked up to Jennifer and tried to talk to her. Jennifer didn't understand what this woman was saying. She diverted her eyes from the woman and tried to ignore her. This didn't make the woman go away.
Jennifer's frustration with the situation continued to grow. She growled. More calmly, she eventually tried to talk. “I can't understand you. Will you please just leave?”
When this didn't work, she sighed and put her hands over her face. Some other patients came up to try to talk to this woman. The situation overwhelmed Jennifer, and she eventually started to cry again. Eventually, one of the nurses came and broke up the conversation, and pulled the curtain partially around her bed.
17 February 2018
Initial Arrival 11
Day 2
Date Unknown
Yakutsk, Siberia, USSR
Shortly after the nurse had left, she returned with Ivan, who proceeded to approach Jennifer, bringing over a chair to sit down beside her. The nurse left them alone as she went to monitor the other patients.
Ivan begun the conversation. “What is it that you want?”
“I would like to have paper and pencils so that I can write and draw in order to organize my thoughts and to have something to do.”
“Are you going to write out what happened?”
“No, that won't work. Those thoughts would be too difficult to get out in this manner. I would like draw out my dreams.”
“How would this help to organize your thoughts? Dreams aren't real.”
“Dreams come from fragments of memories, constructed when the brain processes memories. And from them I can get an interesting story, providing a distraction and helping to prevent me from being overwhelmed. Besides, people often use fiction to understand fact.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“For instance, many games are constructed as some form of simulation to learn skills or make decisions. Fiction in writing and sometimes TV is often used to develop understandings of the society in which we live, even if it doesn't appear directly relevant. Myths and legends are used to develop a culture and the ethics of the culture. The supernatural provides a means for many to understand and appreciate human instinct and the complex processes which govern our world. These are a large part of how many experience the world.”
“Do you seriously believe in the supernatural? These are just stories told by primitive people who don't know any better.”
“Reality isn't so simple. Besides, if you were religious, you would be defensive, insisting the 'supernatural' can't be explained physically.”
“Are you religious or superstitious?”
“Neither, although this isn't really something I should discuss.”
“Fine. Will you show me your drawings?”
“I won't be able to stop you from seeing them.”
“Alright. I will get this for you.” Ivan got up and walked out of the room.
Later, while Jennifer was eating her breakfast, she reviewed the conversation in her mind. I still can't avoid saying too much. But he doesn't seem to be pushing too hard. … He is patient and wants accurate information. He knows that I am under his power and am not going anywhere. Everything he wants will come out eventually. He is the only one with whom I can communicate here. Every conversation must go through him and if I need to talk with someone it must be him. … Well, him or the man I met in the clearing. He spoke to me in English too.
She also realized that she still hadn't asked for the date. Well, he will be back. I can ask later.
Date Unknown
Yakutsk, Siberia, USSR
Shortly after the nurse had left, she returned with Ivan, who proceeded to approach Jennifer, bringing over a chair to sit down beside her. The nurse left them alone as she went to monitor the other patients.
Ivan begun the conversation. “What is it that you want?”
“I would like to have paper and pencils so that I can write and draw in order to organize my thoughts and to have something to do.”
“Are you going to write out what happened?”
“No, that won't work. Those thoughts would be too difficult to get out in this manner. I would like draw out my dreams.”
“How would this help to organize your thoughts? Dreams aren't real.”
“Dreams come from fragments of memories, constructed when the brain processes memories. And from them I can get an interesting story, providing a distraction and helping to prevent me from being overwhelmed. Besides, people often use fiction to understand fact.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“For instance, many games are constructed as some form of simulation to learn skills or make decisions. Fiction in writing and sometimes TV is often used to develop understandings of the society in which we live, even if it doesn't appear directly relevant. Myths and legends are used to develop a culture and the ethics of the culture. The supernatural provides a means for many to understand and appreciate human instinct and the complex processes which govern our world. These are a large part of how many experience the world.”
“Do you seriously believe in the supernatural? These are just stories told by primitive people who don't know any better.”
“Reality isn't so simple. Besides, if you were religious, you would be defensive, insisting the 'supernatural' can't be explained physically.”
“Are you religious or superstitious?”
“Neither, although this isn't really something I should discuss.”
“Fine. Will you show me your drawings?”
“I won't be able to stop you from seeing them.”
“Alright. I will get this for you.” Ivan got up and walked out of the room.
Later, while Jennifer was eating her breakfast, she reviewed the conversation in her mind. I still can't avoid saying too much. But he doesn't seem to be pushing too hard. … He is patient and wants accurate information. He knows that I am under his power and am not going anywhere. Everything he wants will come out eventually. He is the only one with whom I can communicate here. Every conversation must go through him and if I need to talk with someone it must be him. … Well, him or the man I met in the clearing. He spoke to me in English too.
She also realized that she still hadn't asked for the date. Well, he will be back. I can ask later.
11 February 2018
Initial Arrival 10
Day 2
Date Unknown
Yakutsk, Siberia, USSR
Some time after Jennifer had awoken, but still early in the day, a nurse came over with a tray of food. There was porridge, milk, and tea. As the nurse was placing the tray down, Jennifer tried to talk, but struggled to find the words.
Eventually she said something, just to indicate that she wanted to talk. “Umm …”
“Da?”
This isn't going to work. She tried to communicate anyway. She indicated what she wanted with gestures before speaking, showing the process of drawing by writing on one hand with the other. “May I get paper and pencils?”
The nurse looked confused. “Izvinite. Ya ne ponimayu. … Khotite, chto ya skhozhu za Ivanom?” She pointed towards the door as she talked.
Jennifer didn't understand and was uncertain about what to say or do. Frustrated, she started to cry again and gave up trying to communicate.
The nurse responded in a comforting voice, directing Jennifer's attention to the food in front of her. “Yesh'te. Ya skhozhu za Ivanom.” The nurse then left Jennifer alone. She went to another nurse and told her something before leaving through the door.
Date Unknown
Yakutsk, Siberia, USSR
Some time after Jennifer had awoken, but still early in the day, a nurse came over with a tray of food. There was porridge, milk, and tea. As the nurse was placing the tray down, Jennifer tried to talk, but struggled to find the words.
Eventually she said something, just to indicate that she wanted to talk. “Umm …”
“Da?”
This isn't going to work. She tried to communicate anyway. She indicated what she wanted with gestures before speaking, showing the process of drawing by writing on one hand with the other. “May I get paper and pencils?”
The nurse looked confused. “Izvinite. Ya ne ponimayu. … Khotite, chto ya skhozhu za Ivanom?” She pointed towards the door as she talked.
Jennifer didn't understand and was uncertain about what to say or do. Frustrated, she started to cry again and gave up trying to communicate.
The nurse responded in a comforting voice, directing Jennifer's attention to the food in front of her. “Yesh'te. Ya skhozhu za Ivanom.” The nurse then left Jennifer alone. She went to another nurse and told her something before leaving through the door.
29 January 2018
Initial Arrival 9
Day 2
Date Unknown
Yakutsk, Siberia, USSR
The next day, Jennifer woke up after dawn to see that her situation hadn't changed. She was less tired, but still scared. She didn't desire to wake up, but she also didn't want to drift back to sleep. She tried to focus her thoughts on her dream from the previous night, although her memory kept switching back to the events of the previous day.
The goddess, she told me, “You know this is wrong, yet you remain stuck. Let me show you a way out.” She took me to the clearing. The same one in which I was yesterday. The one which took me to the past.
I am still here? How am I still here? Am I actually awake? … If something traumatic happened, maybe my memories are messed up. I am interpreting this as the past. But look at the outfits of the nurses! This isn't what it should be, right?
The goddess told me the clearing was a portal to other places. It was connected, but being inobvious it didn't have a fixed connection. She told me if I looked correctly I could see other realms, other reflections in this place. There were three planes, each with its spirit, in which I found myself this way. Three goddesses, each which gave me a pendent. The same pendent.
I could go anywhere, imagine anything. So I walked through the clearing and found myself in the past, in the Soviet Union. I was actually in the past! This is exciting. Finally imagining things beyond my typical limits. … No, this is real. I am actually in the past. In an enemy state, with no identity, no friends or family. How can this be real?
I was lost, following my brother. We needed help. We heard voices in the distance, then gunshots. By the time I got to the clearing, my brother was gone. I think. I saw several people. Four, maybe. They left when they saw me. They may have shot at me when they were leaving. I think they were carrying someone. Someone not wearing a coat.
When they left I saw there were two people on the ground whom had been shot. One was dead, a woman, Asian probably. The other was injured, a man. I spoke to him. I was shaking. He had a strong accent. He said something which I didn't understand. I told him this. I told him I needed to stop the bleeding, and that I was lost. He told me there was a city about an hour away to the east. That I should take his coat and hat and leave him there. I didn't think I could make it. I asked him for something to stop the bleeding. He suggested his belt. I told him it would be better to take the woman's coat, so he would survive as well. He wasn't happy with this. I fell unconscious sometime after that.
I think there was a wolf in the clearing. … Was that the dream or the event? It must have been the dream.
Date Unknown
Yakutsk, Siberia, USSR
The next day, Jennifer woke up after dawn to see that her situation hadn't changed. She was less tired, but still scared. She didn't desire to wake up, but she also didn't want to drift back to sleep. She tried to focus her thoughts on her dream from the previous night, although her memory kept switching back to the events of the previous day.
The goddess, she told me, “You know this is wrong, yet you remain stuck. Let me show you a way out.” She took me to the clearing. The same one in which I was yesterday. The one which took me to the past.
I am still here? How am I still here? Am I actually awake? … If something traumatic happened, maybe my memories are messed up. I am interpreting this as the past. But look at the outfits of the nurses! This isn't what it should be, right?
The goddess told me the clearing was a portal to other places. It was connected, but being inobvious it didn't have a fixed connection. She told me if I looked correctly I could see other realms, other reflections in this place. There were three planes, each with its spirit, in which I found myself this way. Three goddesses, each which gave me a pendent. The same pendent.
I could go anywhere, imagine anything. So I walked through the clearing and found myself in the past, in the Soviet Union. I was actually in the past! This is exciting. Finally imagining things beyond my typical limits. … No, this is real. I am actually in the past. In an enemy state, with no identity, no friends or family. How can this be real?
I was lost, following my brother. We needed help. We heard voices in the distance, then gunshots. By the time I got to the clearing, my brother was gone. I think. I saw several people. Four, maybe. They left when they saw me. They may have shot at me when they were leaving. I think they were carrying someone. Someone not wearing a coat.
When they left I saw there were two people on the ground whom had been shot. One was dead, a woman, Asian probably. The other was injured, a man. I spoke to him. I was shaking. He had a strong accent. He said something which I didn't understand. I told him this. I told him I needed to stop the bleeding, and that I was lost. He told me there was a city about an hour away to the east. That I should take his coat and hat and leave him there. I didn't think I could make it. I asked him for something to stop the bleeding. He suggested his belt. I told him it would be better to take the woman's coat, so he would survive as well. He wasn't happy with this. I fell unconscious sometime after that.
I think there was a wolf in the clearing. … Was that the dream or the event? It must have been the dream.
22 January 2018
Initial Arrival 8
Date Unknown
Yakutsk, Siberia, USSR
With Ivan gone, Jennifer was left alone again. Well, not completely alone as the nurses and other patients were still there. But she didn't know these people. So she felt exposed. Exposed and alone. She no longer had anyone in her life on whom she could rely. Not even family, as they didn't exist yet. Or at least she didn't exist yet. I am nobody here, I have no legal identity, and they will punish me for this. They will punish me for things out of my control. Jennifer started to cry again. For being different. Because they don't understand. As people often do.
Time passed as she thought. In her state, she didn't know for how much time. She felt that she needed to do something. But she knew that in her state she couldn't. For now I have to let the doctors take care of me. Maybe tomorrow will be different. Maybe I will know more. Or maybe I will be back home.
Jennifer eventually got up. One of the nurses came over to her, indicating that she should go back to her bed. “Lezhite. Ya skhozhu za Ivanom.”
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
The nurse gave no indication that she understood. “Ya ne ponimayu. Podozhdite, ya skhozhu za Ivanom, chtoby on perevyol.”
Jennifer tried to explain again, trying to use her past knowledge as a guide as to what may work and gesturing by holding her crotch as she spoke. “Bathroom, … umm, toilet …”
The nurse seemed to recognize something as she pointed towards the door. “Tualet? Von tam.” She grabbed Jennifer's arm as she held her other hand gesturing towards the door. “Ya vam pokazhu.”
Jennifer froze upon the physical contact. The nurse seemed not to notice. When Jennifer didn't move with her, the nurse let go and continued the door. Jennifer followed. By the time Jennifer was on the toilet, she had started to cry again.
During this process and after coming back to her bed, her thought process continued.
All my reference points are wrong now. Many sayings and terms no longer apply. Well, even the customs and language are different. But people will understand I come from somewhere else. References to history or technology, on the other hand, this would be problematic. I don't know if I can avoid this. How would I explain it?
And how will I be able to deal with life without technology? I guess I have been in many such situations. Especially when camping. And there is still technology here. I will learn how not to be dependent on such things.
More problematic is how women are expected to be domestic servants. And sexual objects. … They won't force this on me. I will no longer be told to be someone I am not. I won't accept being treated as if I don't matter. … I can't fight. The past is set. I can't change things, make things better. At least not on a global scale. Not that I ever knew how. I needed people with whom to work. But now there is no longer any possibility of being a part of the revolution. Things can't get better than what I know.
I have to work on the local scale. I have to be like others? Jennifer was extremely bothered by this thought. Act as if only I matter, only my part of the world matters? But this is the problem which needs to be fixed. No one is free unless everyone is free. And I am not like everyone else. I don't want to be. But people think those who are different don't matter. … But, maybe, I could still help people here. Learn what I need to so that I may fight later. If I have others to teach me and help me.
It started to get dark outside before the nurse came with food again. The composition of the meal was similar, although the soup was different. Jennifer ate what she could.
Eventually the lights were turned off and the windows covered. Jennifer covered her head with her blanket in order to try to block out the remaining light and her surroundings. Eventually, she let herself slowly drift to sleep, despite the situation. Perhaps this is all a dream, and tomorrow I will be home.
Yakutsk, Siberia, USSR
With Ivan gone, Jennifer was left alone again. Well, not completely alone as the nurses and other patients were still there. But she didn't know these people. So she felt exposed. Exposed and alone. She no longer had anyone in her life on whom she could rely. Not even family, as they didn't exist yet. Or at least she didn't exist yet. I am nobody here, I have no legal identity, and they will punish me for this. They will punish me for things out of my control. Jennifer started to cry again. For being different. Because they don't understand. As people often do.
Time passed as she thought. In her state, she didn't know for how much time. She felt that she needed to do something. But she knew that in her state she couldn't. For now I have to let the doctors take care of me. Maybe tomorrow will be different. Maybe I will know more. Or maybe I will be back home.
Jennifer eventually got up. One of the nurses came over to her, indicating that she should go back to her bed. “Lezhite. Ya skhozhu za Ivanom.”
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
The nurse gave no indication that she understood. “Ya ne ponimayu. Podozhdite, ya skhozhu za Ivanom, chtoby on perevyol.”
Jennifer tried to explain again, trying to use her past knowledge as a guide as to what may work and gesturing by holding her crotch as she spoke. “Bathroom, … umm, toilet …”
The nurse seemed to recognize something as she pointed towards the door. “Tualet? Von tam.” She grabbed Jennifer's arm as she held her other hand gesturing towards the door. “Ya vam pokazhu.”
Jennifer froze upon the physical contact. The nurse seemed not to notice. When Jennifer didn't move with her, the nurse let go and continued the door. Jennifer followed. By the time Jennifer was on the toilet, she had started to cry again.
During this process and after coming back to her bed, her thought process continued.
All my reference points are wrong now. Many sayings and terms no longer apply. Well, even the customs and language are different. But people will understand I come from somewhere else. References to history or technology, on the other hand, this would be problematic. I don't know if I can avoid this. How would I explain it?
And how will I be able to deal with life without technology? I guess I have been in many such situations. Especially when camping. And there is still technology here. I will learn how not to be dependent on such things.
More problematic is how women are expected to be domestic servants. And sexual objects. … They won't force this on me. I will no longer be told to be someone I am not. I won't accept being treated as if I don't matter. … I can't fight. The past is set. I can't change things, make things better. At least not on a global scale. Not that I ever knew how. I needed people with whom to work. But now there is no longer any possibility of being a part of the revolution. Things can't get better than what I know.
I have to work on the local scale. I have to be like others? Jennifer was extremely bothered by this thought. Act as if only I matter, only my part of the world matters? But this is the problem which needs to be fixed. No one is free unless everyone is free. And I am not like everyone else. I don't want to be. But people think those who are different don't matter. … But, maybe, I could still help people here. Learn what I need to so that I may fight later. If I have others to teach me and help me.
It started to get dark outside before the nurse came with food again. The composition of the meal was similar, although the soup was different. Jennifer ate what she could.
Eventually the lights were turned off and the windows covered. Jennifer covered her head with her blanket in order to try to block out the remaining light and her surroundings. Eventually, she let herself slowly drift to sleep, despite the situation. Perhaps this is all a dream, and tomorrow I will be home.
15 January 2018
Initial Arrival 7
Date Unknown
Yakutsk, Siberia, USSR
Jennifer put down the cup and turned her attention to the soup. “What is this?”
“Schi.” Jennifer didn't recognize the word. Ivan seemed to notice, so he explained, “Cabbage soup.”
Jennifer still didn't trust the food. She wasn't in the mood for trying new things. “What is in it?” But she knew this wouldn't give her the information she wanted, so she continued, “What spices, seasonings, herbs do you use?”
“I don't understand. It is just soup. It isn't spicy. We don't have many seasonings. I am sorry it isn't what you are accustomed to, but there isn't other food.” Ivan paused, then continued with, “Can you please try it before assuming you don't like it?”
Jen took a spoonful. She tried to avoid the leaves as she took out the other solid chunks. “This tastes ok.” She continued to eat.
Ivan was watching what she was doing and responded to this, “Do you not like cabbage?”
Jennifer stopped eating to talk to him. She turned to look at him before responding, “I don't know. I always find leaves awkward to eat. And lettuce seems like a filler in salads.”
“Cabbage isn't lettuce!” Ivan paused slightly and changed his tone again. “You should try to eat it, food isn't cheap here, we don't want to waste any.”
Jennifer wasn't happy with this comment. This isn't the first time she has had people unhappy about the way she eats. I guess he doesn't know this. He just assumes this is the same thing typical of Americans. Or of people who come from other cultures in general. Jennifer began to cry again. Seriously, why do people think they scold people until they somehow act like they want? Why can't people realize that others … have other needs I guess?
Ivan began to talk to the woman with him. Jennifer didn't understand what they were talking about. She did notice however. She was very uncomfortable with the situation. This made it more difficult for her to speak. Her thoughts were focused on this discomfort, afraid they would scold her again. And on her sense of isolation.
Ivan eventually turned to face her. “If you want, if you don't think you can continue, we can finish this conversation later.”
Jennifer looked up at him, but was still crying and couldn't speak. She eventually nodded slightly, figuring that it would be a while before she could converse again.
“When you are done eating, you can leave your dishes here.” He points to the nightstand. “If you need anything, I will be in the building, and you can ask for me. The nurses won't understand, but they will know to get me, so I can translate.” Then, to the woman he said, “Poydyom.” Both individuals walked out of the room.
Jennifer eventually stopped crying and started to eat again. Why can't my mother make things like this? Why does she insist on covering everything in tomato sauce, or soy sauce, or whatever spice concoction she decides to use? … I guess this is just soup. They probably have their own way of ruining food.
Yakutsk, Siberia, USSR
Jennifer put down the cup and turned her attention to the soup. “What is this?”
“Schi.” Jennifer didn't recognize the word. Ivan seemed to notice, so he explained, “Cabbage soup.”
Jennifer still didn't trust the food. She wasn't in the mood for trying new things. “What is in it?” But she knew this wouldn't give her the information she wanted, so she continued, “What spices, seasonings, herbs do you use?”
“I don't understand. It is just soup. It isn't spicy. We don't have many seasonings. I am sorry it isn't what you are accustomed to, but there isn't other food.” Ivan paused, then continued with, “Can you please try it before assuming you don't like it?”
Jen took a spoonful. She tried to avoid the leaves as she took out the other solid chunks. “This tastes ok.” She continued to eat.
Ivan was watching what she was doing and responded to this, “Do you not like cabbage?”
Jennifer stopped eating to talk to him. She turned to look at him before responding, “I don't know. I always find leaves awkward to eat. And lettuce seems like a filler in salads.”
“Cabbage isn't lettuce!” Ivan paused slightly and changed his tone again. “You should try to eat it, food isn't cheap here, we don't want to waste any.”
Jennifer wasn't happy with this comment. This isn't the first time she has had people unhappy about the way she eats. I guess he doesn't know this. He just assumes this is the same thing typical of Americans. Or of people who come from other cultures in general. Jennifer began to cry again. Seriously, why do people think they scold people until they somehow act like they want? Why can't people realize that others … have other needs I guess?
Ivan began to talk to the woman with him. Jennifer didn't understand what they were talking about. She did notice however. She was very uncomfortable with the situation. This made it more difficult for her to speak. Her thoughts were focused on this discomfort, afraid they would scold her again. And on her sense of isolation.
Ivan eventually turned to face her. “If you want, if you don't think you can continue, we can finish this conversation later.”
Jennifer looked up at him, but was still crying and couldn't speak. She eventually nodded slightly, figuring that it would be a while before she could converse again.
“When you are done eating, you can leave your dishes here.” He points to the nightstand. “If you need anything, I will be in the building, and you can ask for me. The nurses won't understand, but they will know to get me, so I can translate.” Then, to the woman he said, “Poydyom.” Both individuals walked out of the room.
Jennifer eventually stopped crying and started to eat again. Why can't my mother make things like this? Why does she insist on covering everything in tomato sauce, or soy sauce, or whatever spice concoction she decides to use? … I guess this is just soup. They probably have their own way of ruining food.
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