Soda

As she looked down over the railing, the gangplank between the starport and spacepod swayed. Slowly, she felt dizzy and nauseous. After taking a deep (but not too deep) breath, Josie looked up and then back down, this time concentrating on the floor she stood on instead. The swaying slowed, but a strange sensation remained. The air, it smelled different. The humidity? That felt different too. She looked at her hands. Had perhaps my hands changed? She squinted, looking at her palm print.

How strange. She thought, finally mustering strength to look back up again.

It was a place she hadn't been to. Indeed, no human ever had. Emotionally, a surreal feeling crept up from inside her gut. It wasn't that this place was a strange, dark unknown. No. Instead, this place was well known before she ever stepped onto the metallic gangplank. After all, humankind had many ways of gathering information, like satellites and other scientific tools she couldn't possibly name or even know about. Instead, it was just odd that the residents of this planet had finally allowed humans to visit.

Wait. She thought suddenly. How does breathing work?

As a resident greeted her, a human voice translating the resident's inhuman language echoed in her ear, like a level-headed narrator who knew everything that had happened and will happen. She responded, explaining that she was here as a representative of a certain soda company from humankind who was interested in distributing their product to the residents.

She quickly shelved the innumerable questions she had as she tried to explain the purpose of her visit; the residents were very careful with who they let in. This was a cultural exchange of sorts, and she was here to learn more about the residents.

Everything here is weird. She thought while explaining, but before she could think of anything more she was quickly escorted onto something that was roughly analogous to a form of public transit.

The transportation vehicle could carry at least two dozen more humans, but for now it was just her and her resident guide. She considered for a moment that she had no idea how many residents the vehicle could carry. While onboard, they discussed various topics like what the daily routine of a resident usually is. The schedule, she found, was very odd. It was true that every planet she visited in the past had its own cycle of months and years, but she was not at all prepared to consider how the residents even thought of the passage of time. Indeed, before the so-called "Alien Culture and Language Specialist" from a certain soda company who, as a PhD student, had graduated from the most mediocre of immensely famous universities had a chance to catch her breath, she was introduced to an even stranger perception of the cycle of life.

She tried explaining her confusion to the resident, who seemed in turn bewildered as well.

"What do you mean by bury or cremate your dead?" Said the narrator, cooly, as if the answer could be explained easily. Josie and the resident exchanged ideas for a while, finding it difficult why the other's species would do such a thing.

Trying to find something else to talk about, Josie tried to find something to switch the subject to. The strange transportation vehicle lurched, although she wasn't really sure how, and then skidded — if you could you call it that — somewhat slowly to a stop.

"Yes" said the narrator as she exited the vehicle, "Or at least, with some major differences, we have something roughly similar to what you call advertising."

After entering the structure the vehicle has stopped at, Josie was seated at a table that was previously sent by an unmanned cultural exchange probe. The table somehow didn't remind her of home at all, with unfamiliar logos and made of a material she was not accustomed to. The plates, too, were also equally human and equally unfamiliar. On the plates themselves, the resident told her, was a sampling of their foods. The carefully arranged, beautiful assortment gave her the first positive opinion since she arrived.

It seemed like quite the feast to Josie, who could hardly imagine eating all of it. She decided that it would be easiest to try as many things as possible, so that a broad spectrum of tastes could be considered. There were so many things to try! Even on each plate, there were many things that seemed to be a sample of a larger, more cohesive meal. She could feel the warmth and chill of the foods as she walked around the table. Light reflected off foods in a glistening, sometimes sparkling manner. Other foods seemed textureless, like light had forgotten to paint shadows.

The smell had a very specific tambre she would have trouble telling friends and family about back home. She sniffed it tentatively, and looked at the resident curiously. The narrator explained that while they understood her hesitance, especially with respect to how much she could possibly eat, it was generally considered rude to not at least partake. She tried to reassure the resident. This wasn't like herself she decided and, after a moment of hesitation, took a bite.

Her face, try as she might, still hinted at disapproval. It was not the taste. Neither was it the texture. Josie looked back at the resident to explain.

"I'm--" she stammered after swallowing the food, feeling it making its way down her esophagus to her stomach, "I'm really sorry."

She lifted her hard up to her mouth like she was about to puke. This is too odd, she thought to herself.

"It's just that-"

"We understand." The narrator said as the resident made some kind of distinct motion.

"Is this really -- what is this?"

The resident explained which part of the body the food she had just eaten was from, and at her request explained what the rest of the samples on each dish were from as well.

"Wow" She said finally. "You really dont let anything go to waste."

She felt awkward, unsure of where to place her eyes even, until the narrator said that the resident interpreted this as praise. Josie started to feel less awkward. She still didn't know what to do with her eye