Getting lost but finding your way

Jennifer Ditlevson Haglund

All I needed at the store was milk and eggs, but I went home with neither. Instead, I brought home lotus root, dragon fruit, and Chinese eggplant. I’d never had any of these things, and it is likely that I still wouldn’t have if I hadn’t gotten lost.

I’d just moved to DFW and found the grocery store closest to my home too expensive after having access to H-E-B, a favorite chain of many Texans living south of Dallas at the time. I searched the internet for a cheaper alternative, spotted an Aldi on the list, wrote the directions on a napkin, and headed there for a short trip.

But the directions from Google didn’t take me there. Or my car didn’t. I missed my turn and kept driving until I noticed an enormous store labeled simply “H Mart.” The stray carts scattered outside indicated that I might find what I was looking for there, so I parked.

Inside, there were piles of fruits and vegetables I’d never seen and brands of food I’d only eaten with my students and good friends from China, Korea, Thailand, and Japan. Thirty minutes passed before I thought about returning home. Taking note of all the brands and types of food fascinated me. The packaging was different, and sometimes the translations made me laugh. Although I’ve committed far worse errors when speaking other languages, I’m immature enough to giggle at phrases like “extra big cow butt” and “special fungus” when I see or hear them.

By a fortunate accident, I found a new grocery store. Having been there helped me to relate to my students, and I had broader options for cooking. At the least, I was entertained.

When that happened five years ago, I didn’t have a smart phone and I refused to use GPS devices. I didn’t have any concern about government surveillance or commercial tracking. I just wanted to read maps, trust people, and make an adventure of getting lost if it happened.

Now that I have mapping devices on my phone and make use of them as I learn another city, I realize how easy it is to rely on some satellite guiding every step of the way. Although it is helpful to have that sense of security from a GPS, it’s fascinating how easy it is to miss seeing things while getting somewhere. I’m not taking note of potential landmarks as much as I’m taking orders from a computer.

I should be eating crow.

Some of my spouse’s and my earliest disagreements occurred in the car over his dependence on the Garmin. I argued that it was more of a hindrance to us getting somewhere or enjoying our time than it was a help. He eventually agreed with me when the old model began to break down and tell us to do irrational things like make U-turns on one-way streets or continue driving while the car icon spun in circles with a question mark over it.

Once, it commanded us to turn into the median that was burning for miles in 15-foot flames because someone tossed a cigarette butt out the window on a blazing Texas summer afternoon. We were convinced that the device was sentient and taking us straight to hell. That might have been the last time he used it.

The benefits of mobile mapping allow for a certain degree of spontaneity, help to avoid unnecessary traffic, and keep you on time. If the dependence ended with finding a clear route, that would be one thing. It’s not. With review apps and ads working their way into the system as well, you can’t go anywhere without knowing which doughnut shop has how many stars.

That might not seem so bad. No one likes dry pastries or getting into dangerous situations, but there should be something somewhat discomforting about giving up navigating your own path and leaving room for a surprise — or, God forbid, a mediocre or bad — experience.

Jennifer Ditlevson Haglund is a former news reporter for the Maryville Daily Forum, now living and writing in New York City.