MELBOURNE, Australia — The decision to dig into the "Mongolian" dish was not difficult.

It was my first week in Australia, and I felt giddy about this new place. I wanted to “immerse myself in a new culture,” a phrase thrown around at my university’s study abroad office. I stabbed a flat, round piece of the spicy sauce-covered meat off my friend's plate and shoved it swiftly in my mouth as if someone at the table would take it from me.

I was surprised at how easily my teeth punctured and shredded the squishy clump. Hm, it was more bitter than I had thought. The aroma reminded me of the solution used to preserve fetal pigs I dissected in ninth-grade biology.

I declined a second bite.

To my knowledge, few, if any, countries other than Australia eat their national symbol. Kangaroo is unique to Australia and is depicted on the country’s coat of arms as well as on some of its coins. The marsupial has become synonymous with Australia on international and domestic levels. The image of an American family gathering around the table to carve up an eagle for dinner is simultaneously hilarious and disturbing.

The comparison is unfair because kangaroos are not members of the vaunted endangered species list like the bald eagle. Kangaroo are plentiful, too plentiful, and litter high-speed roadsides. Yet I cannot help but imagine that venison would be acceptable repast in the U.S. if our national symbol were deer instead of bald eagle.

Aussies' love for kangaroo meat feeds the debate among scholars and social commentators over whether Australia has its own unique national identity. In his pessimistic essay, “Rabbit Syndrome: Australia and America,” Australian author Don Watson paints the picture of Australia as a powerless nation that has been outshone by England and America. Australia has become “America’s deputy,” he says, and lacks the ability to stand up to the sheriff.

From my two months in Melbourne — a climate-moody, seaside city along the southern coast, meaning it is colder than in the north — I have on numerous occasions been surprised by the pervasiveness of American pop culture. I can watch TV shows like “The Simpsons” and “Two and a Half Men” everyday if I am up to it. I cannot overstate Australia’s love of “The Simpsons.” Many Aussies seem to have a better grasp on American cultural trivia (and some historical events) than most Americans, and they claim to have learned it all from watching and re-watching every season of the show.

Australian versions of American reality shows also abound, including “Dancing with the Stars,” “Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?” and “Deal or No Deal.” When I go to the cinema — Australian for "movies" — I choose from a selection of almost entirely Hollywood films, many of which were released in the U.S. no more than a month ago.

Perhaps confusing national identity with popular culture, however, is not best. Even in the U.S., national identity is more than just movies, music and television. Oprah is only one of our unofficial symbols. We have our political figures as well. Waleed Aly, Australian lawyer, academic and musician, questions whether American politics is a religion itself in “Patriot Acts,” an essay in The Monthly in June 2007.

“Aside from the temples of American political life, other religious elements can be easily discerned," Aly says. "With temples come rituals, such as the presidential inaugurations of unfathomable scale. American politics also has its prophets and, by extension, its scripture. George Washington and Abraham Lincoln are the most important figures in this regard.”

Australians find America’s flashy and zealous displays of national pride perplexing and off-putting. They “remain skeptical about rhetoric and razzmatazz. [They’re] a more self-effacing, circumspect and, frankly, dowdy culture,” says Chris Middendorp, a freelancer writer from Melbourne in "It's all showbiz, but maybe we deserve a vote" from the Melbourne Age in 2008.

Here we find the answer to the question of how Australians can sleep at night after eating a juicy kangaroo steak for dinner: The kangaroo has less symbolic power than the eagle because political affairs do not have a religious intensity in Australia. Aussies eat kangaroo because they like the way it tastes, and the kangaroo industry is sustainable and unthreatening from an ecological standpoint. Additionally, indigenous Australians have eaten kangaroo for centuries. To Australians, these cultural and environmental matters are more significant than the fact that the animal is on the coat of arms.

Since my initial experience, I've tried kangaroo a couple times. And I like it more every time. It's hard to overlook the steaks at the market because the meat is cheap and filling. I've gotten used to eating a national symbol, but I'm still working on overcoming my emotional qualms about eating such an adorable mammal.

This report comes from a journalist in our Student Correspondent Corps, a GlobalPost project training the next generation of foreign correspondents while they study abroad.

http://www.globalpost.com/dispatch/study-abroad/090922/mar-soup-ials-the-menu