Alison & Alex's Wedding

Fancy an ice cold Coke?

Well, if you live in Kerala (South India), you won't be able to get one for love or money. The state government announced today that they are banning sales of Coca cola and Pepsi, due to fears over pesticide levels in the ubiquitous fizzy drinks. An independent lab has apparently found high levels of the poison in the drinks!

Rice dream

Yep, I've named this post after a particularly disgusting-tasting rice drink, which is another one of those 'milk substitutes'. Why on earth people can't just like soya milk, I'm really not sure.

Anyway, what I was actually going to say is that my stomach hates me at the moment. It's making all these growling noises and feeling sore when I wake up, when I eat, when I don't eat, at night... you get the picture. I couldn't work out what was going on, until yesterday I ate Chinese food, and guess what? I felt fine. A-ok. Super-douper. No pain. Now, get what I'm saying here, my body has become so accostomed to Chinese food, especially rice, that I can't get used to my 'regular' London diet of cous cous, salad, veggies, pasta, brown toast etc. Oh no, that makes me ill!

I can honestly say that having spent six months longing to get back to my normal food, this revelation is pretty depressing. A friend who lived in Singapore for about the same amount of time told me today that it took her body 12 months to get used to eating British food, especially bread, her stomach couldn't take it. Hmmm. I feel a dumpling coming on...

Spam spam

I have a gmail account, which is great, and I'm particularly fond of the search feature. However, gmail has intelligent advertising that scans my messages and 'helpfully' provides me with links to external sites, more often than not, selling rubbish. Let me give you an example... I'm bridesmaid for a friend and my sister this summer, and we've been emailing about dressees/shoes etc, all girly stuff. So the links I'm given are all related to bridesmaid clothes/accessories and wedding sites. Spot on if you think about it.

Recently, things have taken a siniser turn. Almost every message I open is headed with a link to a recipe site... Now, I enjoy cooking, so there's nothing odd about that in itself, but ALL these recipes are for dishes made with Spam. Yes, Spam, that jelly-covered, pretending to be meat tinned lump of gunk that people ate during the war. Thing is, I'm kinda curious, so I've been checking out some of the recipes, and they're actually for pretty trendy food... 'Spam Mexican Tortilla Wrap', 'Warm Spam and Lemon Couscous salad'. But who in their right mind would ruin a perfectly good dish with a tin of Spam? I have no idea, but it's getting freaky... there are LOADS of these things. I'm trying to ignore them.

Fiends Reunited

In a fit of procrastination, I recently logged on to Friends Reunited... It's not something I do often, and I soon remembered why. A girl from my form at secondary school is married with three children and... get this, owns her own hammer factory employing 25 men!! Another, rather odd girl, is engaged and has started a business with her boyfriend selling sex toys on the internet. Right. And what am I supposed to have in common with these people? I guess we're all different, and I should be grateful for that, but I was kinda freaked... I'll stick to clicking 'next blog' when I'm bored.

Everything will be alright in the end...

... and if it's not alright, it's not the end.

My lovely friend Lizzy says this all the time, and she's SO right. When things go wrong and we get stressed, we often can't remember what happened a few months down the line. At the moment life is in a state of flux... I feel unsettled, like a fish swimming round and round a familiar bowl longing to get to the river, but not knowing where to jump to. I'm back home, yet home feels elusive, like I've outgrown it. Relationships change, people move on, and life progresses, the world keeps on turning whether I'm here or not. I read the Guardian Media 100 and felt more and more frustrated that I didn't know half of the names, I'm so behind with popular trivia! Yet in all of this I know that my perspective will change, life will seem easier and I'll feel at home again soon. I just hope that day comes soon.

The little things

I'm alone, sipping red wine on the couch on Saturday night. An inadequate breeze floats in occasionally from three sash windows and it's hot and sticky. I'm tired, so exhausted that I can't imagine being chirpy ever again. I guess six months away takes its toll and I've been pretty busy since I got back (as the pix show). Luckily I have the flat to myself, two luxurious floors of quiet space just for me... I've been enjoying having my own living room again, and sleeping in my own bed. It's amazing how the little things can bring great relief. Someone just rang the doorbell, but I'm not answering. I can't think who would be here to see me at this time of night. They can wait, outside my zone of conscious thought. Tomorrow is Sunday, a day of rest, and I'm looking forward to it already.

Ooo I do like a cuppa tea

The people I lived with in Singapore thought I was really English. Every time I made a cup of tea, they'd say 'Ooo the English do like drinking tea!' I'd agree, but the joke wore a bit thin after every time boiling the kettle (and let's face it, the kettle got more use than it had ever seen before!)

Back in London some friends organised a welcome home drinks party for me. Peering through my jetlag I managed to stay awake until about 10pm, when the effect of the mojitos started getting a little too much... until, just what I needed, a good cup of tea...

Wedding 2

Lizzy's Hen Weekend

David & Jenny's Wedding

Latest photos

There's no place like home...

Well everyone, I'm back! I got into Heathrow at 6.30am this morning, and to be honest it was all rather anti-cilmatic. Having looked forward to coming back for so long, I realised that I was far too tired to feel anything at all. Instead I complained to myself about the cost of a latte in this small country, and read my book while waiting for a friend. I've been travelling so much that the change-sensitive part of my brain must have switched itself off, numbed to anything expect the most bizarre experiences. Last week I was eating salmon heads in Hong Kong, yesterday chicken feet in Holland Village, today houmous and pitta on my sofa in London. It's all a bit too much. I'm glad to be back, honestly I am, but I need to wake up before I can appreciate what that means.

Ants

Amazingly, my last two days in Chennai were spent with an old friend from London, who has just moved there. I helped her move into her new flat and provided moral support killing cockroaches in the bathroom! I felt like such an expert and took great satisfaction in throwing four ugly carcasses down the toilet. Funny how that kind of thing used to gross me out, now after a few months in Asia I'm so blasé about creepy crawlies. As long as they don't crawl on my face I don't care, I'll carry on sleeping. In fact there are ants in my bed this week and I can't figure out where they're coming from... I find them quite fascinating to look at crawling up and down my arms and across my pillow, they seem to be on a mission to who-knows-where. Actually, their destintation is perilous death if I roll over in the night. God bless them! At least I'm not a Buddhist, I'd have to save each one of them, which would mean no sleep for me.

Tsunami

We caught half an hour on the beach in Chennai (Madras), after visiting a graphic design school called Artlab. What I didn't know is that at least 4,000 people died when the tsunami hit the beach here in 2004. Most of those who died were the poor who live in fishing villages along the shore - their boats and homes were destroyed along with their loved ones, many children died. A lady told us that when the tsunami came, the first thing that happened was that the water retreated back, and of course everyone ran to see what was happening, children were estactic to see the crabs and fish on the sand where the water had receeded. Little did they know that their inquistiveness would lead to their death.

Two years later, you wouldn't know that anything had happened here. The shore is flanked with colourful new boats, many with the names of American sponsors painted on their hulls. Life continues, the sun continues to shine and fish are brought up in new nets.

The children we met said they didn't go to school, but they were happy playing and fishing with their fathers. They were fascinated by Chris' camera 'phone, and though Tamil is their first language they were adept at crying 'photo please'!

Between the lines

Hyderabad is building a flyover in the middle of the city, and the general public are shielded from the view of the work by metal billboards with a variety of signs, encouraging people to be better citizens.

Here are a few, caught from the car window. Other classics included:

Take care on the roads. Someone is waiting for u.
Men at work. Drive carefully.
Wide roads, flyovers and more - when taxes are paid by everyone.

Love it.

India Photos

Anorexics not allowed...

In India they like their ladies 'curvy'. A 7 up advert has a woman asking a genie in a bottle (Fido) for three wishes. The first one is, 'I want to be more curvy!' Imagine that happening in England! Bill board posters feature ladies in short shorts with legs that, well, let's just say that I wouldn't be wearing short shorts if I had their legs...

There's something cool about this celebration of the natural womanly shape. Women are appreciated for the very physical attributes that make them female. The ubequitous sari is one size fits all, and if you're pregnant or have just eaten too much biryani, then you can just let it out a bit!

Thin people are assumed to be poor, food is wealth. This is an eye-opener to someone from our calorie-counting obsessive culture in the UK, but there's something to learn from the Indian attitude towards fat.

India - Day 1

The breakfast cereal I ate this morning promised to give me "vitality, muscle growth and sexual urge"... imagine! I was chuckling to myself whilst reading the back of the pack. A bit different from snap, crackle and pop!

On the ride into work this morning there were hairy black pigs and skin-and-bone water buffalo running across the road. People on old bicycles with their lunch strapped to the back in a metal pail. The women ride side-saddle on the back of motorbikes with their multi-coloured saris blowing in the breeze. It's an experience and I'm happy to be here.

lounging

I'm writing this in the business class lounge at Singapore Airport, having been upgraded, yay! We're en route to Hyderabad and my colleague Chris and I are enjoying the free food, escalator music and internet access. It's a completely different experience from flying economy. We went straight to a private check-in lounge, where a smartly-dressed lady shouted 'Julia Evans?' Goodness, I thought, that's good service! When I asked her how she knew my name, she replied rather sheepishly, 'You're the only Caucasian lady on the flight, it was quite easy!'

I might have to get used to this!

My most frequent visitor

On Wednesday this week, I met up with my old friend Matt at the airport in Singapore. He was on his way home to NZ as a surprise for a friend who had won an 'instant wedding'. Imagine! It was halfway between very surreal and completely normal to be sitting having a coffee with him before he got on the next leg of the flight. I realised he's been my most frequent visitor since I've been away from home - we met up in Kazakhstan in March, London in May, and now Singapore in June. Very cool. See you soon Matt!

India calling...

I'm leaving for India on Saturday, heading off to Hyderabad and Chennai to run a training event with a colleague from New Zealand. It'll be the first visit either of us has made to the country, and to be honest I was relieved when he said he was dreading it! I kind of am too... I'm not sure why, maybe the fear of the unfamiliar, and the knowledge that I'm a wuss with no stamina and will find it hard to cope with 40C heat and no aircon, and the prospect of getting sick...

The good thing is that I'll be meeting up with two friends from London, so they can look after us and hopefully keep us going!

I'll post a full report when I'm back, until then please pray!

The Singapore Sale

As Singapore's national passtimes are eating and shopping, it's no surprise that a major event in the year's calender is the Great Singapore Sale. It lasts for six weeks, and all shops are kind of obliged to give some kind of discount, even just 10% off their normal prices. It's crazy. There are all these people who have all year to shop (at pretty cheap prices anyway), and they still make a beeline for the malls to buy more stuff! I've met people who tell me they often buy the same item of clothing twice without realising until later that the first piece is in their wardrobe with the label on. Maybe I'm just jealous, but I like to wear my shoes out before buying a new pair, and I only have two pairs of jeans, honestly! Hmm, think I'll be giving the shops a miss this time round, nothing fits me anyway!

Lunch

I’m just back from lunch, which is always an occasion here in the land where food is King! Today I ate nasai lamak, which consisted of coconut rice, omelette, fried chicken wings, green beans with shrimp paste, veggies in spicy coconut milk, peanuts, cucumber and chilli. That’s a lot of lunch but I’m trying to fatten myself up having got to London last week to be told by countless people that I look ill. Great. It reminded me of that bit in Bridget Jones where she finally, finally gets to 8 ½ stone after dieting obsessively for years, and all her mates tell her she looks terrible! I haven’t been dieting obsessively, far from it, the Singaporeans eat about six meals a day and there are countless snacks in between. Yesterday I ate two breakfasts, (including some glutinous rice and red bean paste wrapped in a banana leaf), roti prata (crispy Indian bread) and curry for lunch, about four snacks and Vietnamese beef noodle soup for dinner. That’s not counting supper! I don’t know how they all stay so thin… most people here are miniscule, of adolescent proportions. I think that’s why I hadn’t realised I’m thinner than normal – I’m about twice the size of anyone on my bus journey to work! I’ve only got six weeks left to enjoy the food, and enjoy it I will.

Returning

So I’m back from a surreal, hectic, gorgeous week in London, and it seems like a dream. One minute I was going along with life in a sub-tropical climate, the next walking through drizzle in a grey city, trying not to let my umbrella turn inside out. I was vastly unprepared in the clothing department, having overestimated English springtime, why oh why did I think I could wear flip flops? A quick trip to Topshop and all was sorted. Returning to my old life was like taking a much-loved story book off a shelf… the story is familiar and the words echoed in my mind, but the person reading them had changed, and the sentences carried a new meaning. I love London, it’s my home and there are so many people I love there, yet I saw it through a brighter lens. Not much had changed since I left – a couple of weddings, babies growing bigger, friends getting new jobs, but I’ve changed more than that. My perspective on the world has been stretched beyond my imagination. I stick out in Singapore, I’m kind of special here, adventurous. I lay awake with jet lag at 4am this morning, ravenously hungry dreaming of rice porridge – unthinkable a few short months ago! My tastes have changed. The earthquake in Indonesia is nearer now, never again will I hear of a natural disaster in Asia and feel nothing. These people look like my new friends. They’ve been given 12kg of rice in ‘aid’ by the government, and I know they deserve more. Having spent time in Asia, I’ll return to the West a different person – older, thinner, richer, hopefully a little wiser and more compassionate.

London pix 5

London pix 4

London Pix 3

London pix 2

London pix

Home, sweet home...

I lean over from my blanket cacoon and see a sheet of whiteness outside the oval window. I keep looking though, searching for the first glimpse of the city I love. Gradually the haze clears and I look out to this rainy vista, small brick-red houses sprawl organically, surrounded by verdant trees that from this height appear to have been drawn by small children, lollipop-like. I can't explain the emotion that comes with the familiarity of a tree. Such a simple thing, on an ordinary day I must see hundreds. But I've been away. Not for a long time, but long enough to ache for home, for friends and the parts of me that will forever exist only in this city. A kind of joy, a relieved kind of joy, passes through me, and I know I'm gonna have a great time. This is the city I love.

Beach bbq, Singapore style!

Lite

Have you noticed that lots of things are 'lite' nowadays. I don't mean to sound like one of those ranting senior citizens who say things like, "Now then, listen here, all that low-fat rubbish is nonsense! If everyone just got off their fat arse and worked hard rather than watching Richard & Judy all day they'd be able to drink full-cream milk!" I don't really care what other people eat and drink, I mean, it doesn't affect me, and if someone who's dangerously overweight wants to eat a Burger King, well that's ok by me. But sometimes enough is enough, and the healthy option can see like a good idea. I was in Cold Storage the other day (Singapore's equivalent of Waitrose), buying soy milk and laughing at the hilarity of the specially-grown $50 square watermelon, when I noticed that my regular brand of beany-fake-milk-stuff had introduced a 'lite' version. The spelling immediately got my back up, I mean it's only one letter less than the correct spelling! Come on. But it got me thinking... maybe I should be consuming less calories. Maybe if I drink 'lite' soy milk on my cereal I'll be able to eat something else instead. But the problem I've found is that the 'lite' version is generally a euphenism for 'crap-tasting', so I deliberated for a good few minutes on whether to buy it or not. (I would never have wasted such time in London, I was lucky if I even got to the shops, but time is wide-open here, like the grand canyon, all that space just waiting to be filled.) Eventually I buy it, and am disappointed, as I expected. It's kinda watery and more acidic. But hey, at least I can eat another piece of Green & Blacks* to compensate.

* Thank you to everyone who has sent rations of my favourite choc, so much so that there's a bit of a glut at the moment. Unfortunately the ants are rather fond of the Maya Gold, so keep it til I get back folks!

Eeeeekkkkk!!!

There was a storm last night, nothing special about that, it rains loads here and it’s always heavy and aggressive – none of that pathetic English drizzle that can’t decide if it wants to rain or not. Getting off the bus, I threw up my inadequate umbrella and decisively set off up the hill for home, figuring I could always jump straight in the shower should I get soaked. There was something ever-so-slightly scary about walking in this storm though… the night seemed darker than black, the clouds holding up a shade in front of the moon’s light. I carried on, each footstep meeting the pavement firmly in my attempt to get home, and fast. About ten steps on, I step out of my flip flop. No big deal, I turn and retrieve it, slipping my toes into the wet leather. I can’t really see anything, umbrella overhead, my eyes skim the pavement, and my head is full of music turned up loud to counteract the white noise of rain on concrete. Then it happens. A few seconds later a dark streak passes across the pavement and I tread on something small and squishy. Then I hear it, as if in slow motion, ‘Eeekkk!!! Eeekkk!! Eeek! Eeek!’ I look down as I walk on to see a mouse scuttling into the storm drain, having been trodden on by 55kg of Caucasian girl with a small umbrella! I’m ashamed to say that my first thought was for my sanity, wondering if I’d have nightmares. It was only when I shook my umbrella out under the car port that my mind turned to the poor creature. It was probably being flooded out of its home in the storm drain and rushing to the surface for respite gets trodden on by a giant! I hope it’s ok. I mean, I don’t really like mice, but I wouldn’t want to break one’s spine or anything. I’ll be more careful in the rain from now on, I promise.

Over and over

The title of this blog is actually the title of a track by Hot Chip, who I'm loving at the moment. I first saw them in the Square Pie Tent at Glastonbury this year... though Jags did point out that I had my fingers in my ears for the first few minutes until I got 'into' their overexcited style. I remember being transfixed by the small guy in an owl t-shirt whose contribution to the band was to bang a cow bell ...

Anyway, I was gonna blog about how I've been folding paper over and over, not about Hot Chip, even though they're ace and deserve a whole post to themselves.

On Saturday a colleague and I went to Konokuniya, the Japanese bookshop at Takashimaya... it's a geek's paradise, floor upon floor of beautiful books, so I was happy. We ended up buying all this gorgeous origami paper, only to find that the instructions are all weird and we can only remember how to make a crane:

They're beautiful nontheless, and slightly addictive. I've now decided to try to make a collection and string them all together....

I'm a secret Starbucks lover...

For once in my life I’m grateful to Starbucks. Not because I’ve made it my mission to visit every branch on the planet, nor because I like their coffee (admit it, it’s pretty average). No, I’m grateful to this multi-national highly reproductive coffee dispenser because it’s Sunday afternoon, and I’ve come here for a rest. I’ve just been to church and listened to a sermon about sex from an old Canadian guy – a bit like listening to your dad talking about his sex life, had lunch with some friends, and now I have a few hours to kill.

So, I spend $3.85 on a decaf soy latte, and climb sixteen noisy stairs to the first floor of my local ‘bucks. Taking a seat, I count eight other people like me – alone that is – and they’re all busy… reading, studying, listening to their ipods, smsing, one guy is colouring in, he must be a geography student. Hardly anyone’s actually drinking coffee, empty cups and discarded napkins litter the tables.

This quasi-community breathes in synch and there’s a strange sense of ‘belonging’ in this room with the ubiquitous beech chairs and chequerboard tables. We can all stay here as long as we like, all day if we feel like it, because we can’t be thrown out… it would go against the ‘home from home’ advertising by-line. So here we are, in our public lounge, our home for the afternoon, entertaining ourselves by not speaking to anyone else. I wonder what would happen if I tried to start a conversation with someone… it stays a thought, it would be too weird. What would I say? ‘Do you come here often?’ The eternally bad chat-up line.

I did a talk about a year ago about how ipods are the symbol of our generation – the epitome of selfishness, music for one (I now own one so include myself). Just as we listen to our own private vibes, being here in this fridge-like coffee shop on a hot day accentuates the defragmentation of our society. We think we ‘are’, we think we ‘exist’, we think we ‘belong’ here, but we’re lying to ourselves. We’re very much alone on these rented chairs. The guy next to me is a foreign country. My visa has been refused.

Pelican

When I was in Perth, we were driving along the coast near Mandurah, when we spotted three huge pelicans at the side of the river. This one was huge, it came up to my chest in height. He let me get about a metre away before leaping into the water. Pretty cool huh?