What to eat?

I just finished my dinner and I've come to the conclusion that I never know exactly what dinner is. Its not the language barrier of the question "What's for dinner mom?", its the food itself. My dinner is always a mystery, usually I'm able to break it down into sub-groups. I can always identify the rice and its the one thing that remains the same. Rice yesterday, rice today, rice tomorrow and the day after as well. The rice is always accompanied by some vegetables the peppers and onions are all I'm ever able to identify. Lately tofu has made it into the mix which can look surprisingly like rubbery meat. The other day I realized during the cross examination of my dinner that I was thinking "mmmm tofu, alright, this is good!". I'm sure three weeks ago I would have put my nose in the air to such rubbery and gross looking food or possibly nibbled a corner of one. The meat that is placed on top of the rice is similar each day even though the origin differs. Whether its beef, chicken, pork, or sheep its prepared in either two ways. One is in little strips and bits and the other is balled and fried. I'm never able to identify the meat until I taste it but even then sometimes I mistake one animal for another. Either way I always come across a piece that's not quite edible and then there is no more meat for me for the rest of the night. Occasionally something fishy turns up fish eggs, clams, or shrimp (still with the head on). Although I'm usually the seafood type my appetite for these creatures of sea has disappeared. The last category you could say falls under vegetables but I would disagree the mushrooms and fungi that appear on my dinner plate look and most often taste unlike any vegetable I've ever known. I've tried some odd things but nothing outrageous, such as snake. The wildest I've ventured so far has been fried minnows with their head on of course, pork blood soup, and stinky tofu. The black and white spotted fruit I had was unique but certainly not stomach clenching since it was only a fruit. Dinner is always served with chop sticks and my handles have improved after many attempts. I hear my host mother's pocket translator working away and that can only mean one thing. Host mom will arrive shortly with the pocket translator, and the pocket translator will speak some nonsense English and I won't have a clue what my host mom is trying to say.