Working on the Hunger Study

If you haven't already and plan to, please immerse yourself in the below material and set aside a few days for your hunger study. Remember, keep a log of what you do (or don't) eat and how it affects you. Write a one page essay about the experience using your log/notes. Good luck. Remember, this is a study. If you think it's going to make you sick or hurt you somehow, STOP.

Read the following material for perspectives and advice about hunger and fasting:

http://www.collegian.psu.edu/archive/2007/09/20/columnist_wants_to_experience.aspx

Columnist wants to experience real hunger

By Caitlin O'Malley

Do you know what it's like to be hungry?

No, I'm not talking about the kind of hunger you get when you accidentally sleep in, skip breakfast and then sit in the Forum Building, hoping no one can hear your stomach rumbling over that annoying kid's presentation.

Nor am I referring to the kind of hunger that partygoers feel at 2 a.m., when their alcohol-enhanced sense of smell drives them to cut in line at Canyon Pizza with the ferocity of a pack of lions on the hunt.

I'm talking about the type of hunger that keeps you up at night and wakes you up in the morning. I'm talking about the hunger that comes from skipping breakfast because there isn't any food, avoiding lunch in order to save up for dinner and still wondering from where that dinner will come.

I have never been that kind of hungry. But the United States Department of Agriculture estimates that 12.6 million U.S. households have experienced this kind of hungry-- known as food insecurity.

In quiet, hidden ways, many people in America are hungry. A few years ago, I worked with a happy-go-lucky, 23-year-old waitress. She worked two jobs and went to beauty school-- all quite energetically. Her family was supportive and close. She looked clean, dressed decently and had an average build. Nothing would indicate that she was poor or hungry -- until I found her crouched down behind the dish-washing station secretly picking through food scraps from customer's plates and shoveling them into her mouth instead of throwing them in the garbage.

In the extra pocket of her apron, she shoved a heaping handful of half-eaten wings and French fries that were already drenched in ketchup.

No wonder she always insisted she wasn't hungry when she worked 10-hour shifts without ordering a snack. There's so much you cannot know about a person, even after years of working with them, living next to them or sitting beside with them in class.

That's part of the reason I became a journalist. I want to know. I'm interested in people. I'd like to know what it's like to live their lives -- the private moments, the small details, the struggles, their secrets, their emotions and their thoughts. Since I can't live 1,000 lives, reading or writing about people is the closest I've ever come to understanding them. But I knew that writing about hunger and feeling hungry was not the same.

So I enlisted the help of some experts at the State College Area Food Bank.

"I do know what it's like to be hungry. If you could imagine when you get slightly hungry, magnify that a thousand fold. Unless you have actually ever been there, you can't really understand. It feels like the world is coming to an end," said Linda Tataliba, the food bank's executive director.

In the 1960s, Tataliba experienced hunger for the first time when her father lost his job one winter. Tataliba and her siblings packed two empty slices of bread as their school lunches and pretended they were eating regular sandwiches.

"The other kids knew," she said. "They made fun."

She also recalled her youngest brother sitting at the kitchen table and crying for food in pain.

At times, flour was one of the only foods her family had access to, and her mother would use it to make dough balls. Tataliba and her older sisters visited food banks for the family because their parents were too proud.

So, how much money do I spend on food per week if I wanted to experience "being hungry" for myself?

"Pay your other bills first and then act like you have nothing left," Tataliba said. Nothing? I was confused. How do I live on nothing?

"Most of the people who come into our food bank have no money left for food," she said.

Obviously, I couldn't go to a food bank and take away from the needy in order to write a column, so I needed a spending limit.

The food shelter can feed one person for a week for about $12.50, so this is the upper limit of my spending range. I'm aiming for $7 to $10.

More advice: No bottled water. No alcohol. No treats. You eat pasta plain if you run out of sauce. No exercise other than walking, no tanning, no going out. This is what you do if it is a matter of survival. No buying personal items. (Tataliba recalled having to borrow items such as soap from her neighbors if she needed them.) No hair cuts. Everything you take for granted is gone.

Next Thursday in my column, I will reveal, as best as I can, my experience of being hungry -- if only for a week.

http://www.collegian.psu.edu/archive/2007/09/27/hunger_made_me_appreciate_litt.aspx

Hunger made me appreciate little things

By Caitlin O'Malley

Breakfast at 8 p.m. Four-course meals. Dessert before dinner. Finishing a "family-sized" bag of peanut M&Ms--myself-- in three days. I'm a veritable, 2,000-pound person at heart, trapped inside an average person's body.

So when I vowed this past week to limit my food budget to between $7 and $12.50 to experience real hunger, no one was more skeptical of my ability to do this than me.

As it turns out, I aimed for a narrower spending limit than I intended. My shopping list was: One bag generic spaghetti: 60 cents. A dozen large eggs: $1.29. Generic frosted flakes cereal: $1.69 -- amounting to a grand total of $3.58 for the week.

So, what can you eat spending less than about 50 cents a day? Not much.

Wednesday (post column): Nothing. I ate in the morning before my column started. I went to bed feeling fine.

Thursday: Two sunny-side up eggs, plus half of a chicken wrap, which I got for free at a meeting, I felt light-headed.

Friday: A quarter cup of dry cereal, two ounces of spaghetti. I felt nauseated.

Saturday: Three-quarters of a cup of dry cereal, two ounces of spaghetti. I went to stand up, fell back into my seat.

Sunday: Four ounces of spaghetti. My legs felt like Jello. Stairs were hard.

Monday: One sunny-side-up egg, two ounces of spaghetti. Headache.

Tuesday: Two hard-boiled eggs. My headace worsened.

Wednesday (pre-column): One sunny-side up egg.

I felt sick and tired the entire week. However, I wasn't hungry in the extreme, non-stop, painful way I anticipated.

Don't get me wrong. I repeatedly caught myself walking to my pantry shelf and longingly staring at it for a few minutes, before reluctantly dragging myself away. I dreaded passing McClanahan's and the delicious smells drifting from the Waffle Shop as I walked to class every day.

A few tricks assuaged my hunger. I drank about 30 tall glasses of tap water a day. It helped me feel full and also kept my hands busy when I really wanted to reach for food.

Also, I went to bed earlier than I had in years. Instead of the normal 1 or 2 a.m. bedtime, I hit the sack around 10:30 or 11 p.m.

At the end, agriculture professor Guy Barbato helped analyze my diet. The exact calorie count for the week was 1,300-- about 700 calories less than normal people are recommended to eat in a day. On the lowest day, I ate 82 calories. Protein and fat levels were also drastically low beause the only meat I ate came from half of a chicken wrap that I got from a networking mixer. I never could have afforded it on my budget.

Barbato, who has worked with malnourished people in New York City, said the food-insecure can purchase dried beans and white rice which are cheap but filling. They may also take free packets of condiments from businesses or buy dented, discounted cans.

While I succeeded at eating on less than people would receive from food banks, I didn't have to worry about rent, heat, power, prescriptions and other bills, which cut drastically and unexpectedly into food money. I didn't worry about feeding a family. And, even though it was completely inadequate, $3.58 was the difference between eating meager meals and not eating at all. People spend $3.58 on a drink at Starbucks every day without blinking.

At the State College Food Bank, $3.58 would buy what would normally cost $20 at a grocery store, which is almost enough to feed a family of two for a week. The food banks' purchasing power from the state allows themto buy $5 worth of food for every $1 donation.

They depend on students and volunteers for donations of food items and grocery gift cards. The Trash to Treasure program brings in substantial amounts of food every year. Blue & White Society's Wing Bowl eating contest pits frats, sororities and independents against each other to raise money for the food bank. Also, the food bank is currently recruiting students to help with its annual Crop Walk fundraiser that will take place on Oct. 14.

Today, as I write my column, I am double fisting a cup of coffee and a bottle of water. On the way home, I'll probably stop and pick up some Ben and Jerry's Brownie Batter. From now on, I will count myself lucky for these little experiences and comforts that having money can bring.

Tonight I will go to bed with a full stomach, knowing that someone, somewhere out there is wishing they could do the same.


FOR INFORMATION ON FASTING: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fasting

MORE INFORMATION ON FASTING TYPES AND ADVICE HOW TO GET THROUGH IT: http://www.falconblanco.com/health/fasting.htm