By our trash cans, space travelers from Jupiter will surmise they know us: Tin-eating, and junk food-loving people who have a lust for concrete.
We know, of course, Jupiter is an inhospitable ball of hydrogen and helium with four moons. Still, the gaseous planet’s presumption may hold water. Food in foil pouches and tin cans could be the default sustenance of some Filipinos.
“It’s true. In a pinch we rely upon tinned food. We snack on junk food,” said Amie, my cousin.
But we do grow weary of tinned and go-cup food. We have devoured it straight from the can, disguised it as haute cuisine, and several times served it as a convincing salad: Sardines in tomato sauce dressed with vinegar, chopped shallots, and one finger chili, minced. What other things can we do with this galaxy of ready-made hunger saviors? Go ask Jupiter.
“The sound of tin cans, and noodle pouches being opened must have been the music of this city” is his unexpected reply in Earth-speak.
The amateur, itinerant Jovian archeologist looks at the concrete jungle yonder as he records his views on a thumb-size voice, photo-data gadget a million years from now. He sifts through a new site, a mound yielding artifacts from a city dump. He finds fossils of flora and fauna, and a 40-foot layer of well preserved tin cans, and deformed plastic objects.
The Jovian hazards an early assessment. “This city indiscriminately damaged her wealth. I see notations of man’s attempt to seek Band-Aid solutions to stop the bleeding skin of the Earth. This City Man and Earth are one. There’s no logic here, I know, but Earth was a wasteful, careless society who found it hard to learn from the past. I wonder what Juno thinks. I’m going home.”