Weather’s gone from Steamer to Fridge, & I’m stocking my Freezer

 

img_2584-1.jpgThis is not a food blog, but food’s part of my way of coping with the unfamiliar so you get to see some of what I cook. It also explains why the one “homesick” thing that brought me to tears was the absence of rice bran straws from American stores. I’m committed to my cereal recipe! Cereal is my comfort food. Anyway I’ve made minestrone, smoked ham & chickpeas (pictured) and pumpkin soup for the freezer. Cauliflower curry is next. I’ve bought two coats – one feels like I’m a walking around in a down sleeping bag! I’ve procured lined gloves and bought two pairs of boots, one for wet and one for when the snow’s more than 2″ deep Mam. Near the coat and boot shops I was distracted by Dr Seuss and the Lego store. I’ve been dehydrated because I’m not drinking enough.

img_2529-1.jpgApart from distracted shopping for boots and coats this week I’ve been about getting into (and resisting) routines, maybe me and the weather too. One day was a steamy 27, the next maxed out at 9C and I thought I was living in a fridge. Apparently 10C max (<50F) is the new routine for weather until it gets actually cold. Even with boots and coats I know the weather’s changed, but the locals don’t think this is cold yet. Today the modem man (don’t ask, but yes, again) said this is his perfect temperature, loves it. This is a man in a tshirt and shorts… I’m getting into a gym routine. Have done a full week of settled uni classes and felt prepared. I’ve paid bills, cleaned my apartment, found where to get my trousers taken up so they don’t drape in the puddles. Eaten a ruben with sour kraut that stung my lips in a cafe that reminded me of Scheherazade, felt lonely a bit, you know, life.

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img_2543I’ve been working on my study-life balance, although there’s been some procrasti-life balance for sure. Choir rehearsals started this week and I nearly cried I had so much fun, couldn’t stop smiling. I got turned inside out trying to find the rehearsal space and saw this room – have you noticed a theme in many of my Chicago photographs yet? No not ivy, although maybe that too. Montreal was street art, Chicago is…. Anyway we started learning a Bruckner motet and a South African hymn in Xhosa and I was just in seventh heaven. Our first concert is with Sweet Honey in the Rock. You politically radical, post-colonial feminist types, get listening! And the rest of you, well, if you don’t know them have a listen, ethical, gospel and good fun singing – yay. Oh and an Alto Lady who lives near me has offered to drive me home after rehearsal so I won’t have to walk in dark and snow. Nice.

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img_2518I’ve almost come off the back of the treadmill because of course the speed is in mph and one doesn’t walk at 5.5-6 mph. I then climbed the 11 floors to my apartment after gym because the power was out. That was the day after I bought a flashlight despite the man in the hardware store telling me that the power never goes off in Chicago. We had quite a chat because I went in to buy a torch, I asked for a “big torch”. The hardware gentleman looked at me quizzically and took me to the back of the store, to a rack of 6′ stakes topped with kerosene wick contraption things! “No”, I said, “a torch”. “Yes”, he said holding his stake ready to enter The Temple of Doom (I’d say the Mines of Moria but Gandalf’s staff was smaller). “It’s like a cylinder, with a globe, batteries”, I said desperately trying to describe a torch in non-phallic terminology and sign language. “It’s like a flashlight!!” The light turned on, we laughed, I got a flashlight and batteries and the next day (at midday) the power went off. The power never goes off in Chicago, it must be me.

While walking everywhere I’m enjoying looking at leaves starting to change colour, jumping puddles, watching squirrels rush about collecting their foods. Still enjoying the architecture and smiling at summer’s last enduring flowers. Love the hydrangeas. I’ve walked past a group of Chinese ladies doing tai chi in the park a few times. Not sure why but they make me smile. Some sitting with the children in the playground, the rest moving slow and deliberate. There’s a lot to be said for slow and deliberate.

 

 

Life is a minestrone

 

Soundtrack: 10CC, but who knew that?
I thought it was Weird Al… most odd

Some members of the audience will understand the title… for the rest of you, well google is key to your age. I promised you a blog a week while I’m here, and already I’m behind. Sorry about that. I’m also already behind on my class work so this is going to be brief tonight. Chicago is amazing. The temperature has gone up and down a lot – hot, cold, cold, cold, hot and back to cold. Apparently the hots have to disappear before they turn the heating boilers on in my apartment building. However, despite the chill my apartment is sorted and somewhere in the next couple of weeks my Australian possessions will arrive and create familiar chaos.

When I’m not in general panic or overcome by loneliness I’m really happy. Routine is starting to arrive: my class schedule is settled (albeit having changed more times than my underwear this week). Tuesday after class is apartment cleaning time, Thursday is washing and cooking day (hence my clean underwear and the minestrone). I will catch up on my reading, although Durkheim and his fascination with Suicide as a major first week’s reading would never have been a therapist’s recommendation for intelligent people, mostly single and without spawn, who’ve just had a major life change. Anyone who’s read it will know the only additional “risk” factor Emile describes is being Catholic. Small mercies I’m spared.

Monday night is choir rehearsal (not in the Chapel) and so next week I’m joining the “Lady Tenors” in the University Choir. Not fully sure I can be a Lady, should be a hoot. My online shopping this week’s been similarly edifying: 5 performances at the Lyric Opera, 7 performances by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and the Tallis Scholars. Loving this cultured life, meant to be here to study. Sigh.

And the seat of learning
And the flush of success
Relieves a constipated mind
I’m like a gourmet in a skid row diner
A fitting menu for a dilettante

Who knew 10CC wrote stuff like that? So anyway, tonight I made me some minestrone, topped it with parmesan cheese that wasn’t, it was something else from Wisconsin but hey it was magnificent, and so was the soup. Here’s hoping it’s a portent. (The blue mugs have lids, and go in the freezer for microwaving on future nights of chill that are not Thursdays). Love, W xox

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Going West from Bangkok

So after the market on the railway line, and around the most important thing I did in Thailand there were these “other” bits, that I want to show you before I wrench your hearts with the most important thing I’ve done in terms of being an Australian for a long long while. But more about that later.

I’ve not yet been to a so-called floating market that bore any resemblance whatsoever to the advertised images, so as you may see, along with my highly camouflaged companion I was suspicious. I was right. The lengthy, smelly (the fumes of outboard motors is a theme of this post), uncomfortable, knee breaking journey that went no-where, was less than fabulous, and apart from a great view of a temple and Buddha, was not resembling the advertising materials.

Gorgeous bougainvillea. Continue reading “Going West from Bangkok”

The Market on the Line

We walked the line… Today’s (well yesterday’s but I started this yesterday) first stop, after a 5am pickup, was a local market that sets up on an operating railway track. When the train comes through at 830 am everyone rushes their produce off the line and pulls silly tourists to safety. The main thing wasn’t so much about the train, although trains did form a pretty special overarching theme to the day, but I do love a good Asian food market. Mostly for the characters and the faces, but also the quite amazing produce.

Aren’t they just brilliant? Such a wonderful, alive, vibrant, human Thailand compared to what I’m seeing around here. Continue reading “The Market on the Line”

Time out in Thailand 

After months on the go it’s time for a rest, thankfully I was invited here just outside Pattya in Thailand for 10 days. I’m supposed to be doing nothing and I guess a massage a day is kind of doing nothing. It’s nice. But we all know I’m still writing papers for that Canadian woman in secret.

In between working, blogging and sleeping here are some sights. Maybe I should get out more, but I’m just chilling, staying around about.  Haven’t been brave enough to try the prawns at the street food stalls yet, but they look great.

There are little shrines everywhere, some tiny and cute others more elaborate, all special and cared for. Apparently even the crocodile is for good luck. I’m a bit concerned about the God’s non-communicable diseases risk as they seem to receive a lot of sugar sweetened beverages and cigarettes, but maybe the God’s are grown up enough and can look after themselves. Have to confess to having a few sugar sweetened alcoholic beverages myself. Continue reading “Time out in Thailand “

2014… Coming home to Cochin, to India and finding it different

So as this 2017 trip draws to a close, I’ve finally finished uploading my 2014 trip. I’ve posted it in reverse order so you can read straight down from the top and they’ll be in order. Even those of you who read the emails 3 years ago didn’t get the pictures and may find that I’ve redacted something new. I have inserted some bits from 2006. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did, this reworking has made me cry, and smile again.

day-1-img_0676Namaste, Welcome to India, to Cochin in Kerala. Welcome to the travels of your unemployed, ex-engineer, Aunt. Woohoot.

Ok I’m determined to have a great positive happy relaxing trip so I hesitate to start with a gripe, but bloody poms sitting around the pool on FaceTime with their iPads at full volume yelling about the curry should remember the words of Kerry O’Kieffe after Sydney: “five nill, five nill, five nill!” Bloody irritating wankers. Well now that’s off my chest – Namaste welcome to Kerala – god’s own country. It’s 8 years since I was last here but I’m still sure they’ve no idea which god’s this country is, so all are welcome.

The boys in the hotel restaurant are competing to be the first to introduce me to every local breakfast delicacy so I’m having to fight them off. But it is delicious and does set one up for the day, although at three breakfasts a morning I’m starting to feel like a Hobbit. Continue reading “2014… Coming home to Cochin, to India and finding it different”

Munnar, magic mountains of tea

Well I’d just you written a long winded pompous discussion on cultural change in an internet savvy media educated India and the sad loss of naivety and values in the name of economic development. But it came across snobbish and ethnocentric which was not my intention so I ditched it. Progress inevitably changes people, I am happy that many Indians have thrown off the vestiges of the British Raj and see themselves as equal with the best in the world, I just hope 5000 years of culture survives embracing western “values.” But if John my driver is any indication I have little hope.

I don’t like him, I may yet yell at him (he wouldn’t get it he’s so blissfully self-confident he could be a gen-y) but I’m stuck with him so I’ll cover my girls thoroughly and tell him to mind his own business when he wants to know everything from my weight to whether my husband lets me have other boyfriends. Yes I invented a husband who I’ve now had to flesh out for 500 subsequent questions. I have now swapped to “that’s never a polite question” as a standard response. It’s my holiday and so long as he continues to accept my instruction not to poke the accelerator like it’s a prostitute I won’t vomit in his car.

So moving on from critical observations… Today I’ve moved to Munnar up in tea country, does 5,000 feet sound right? The boys in the hotel in Cochin farewelled me with a four course breakfast which was lovely and fortified me for the 5 hour drive. Less said about the actual drive here the better.

day-4-img_4957There’s not too much to say about Munnar other than it’s lovely. The steep hills are covered in tea bushes which are plucked regularly by women, it’s totally manual. They must get osteo and RSI injuries. Their access paths and the regular trimming of the rows of camellias make the hills look like pin cushions or maybe tea cosies. They are dotted with granite boulders and occasional thin spindly trees to control temperature and give the birds somewhere to sit, it makes them look like a Japanese painting in steaming hazy tones of green. Everything smells of tea and you can inhale the anti-oxidants. Continue reading “Munnar, magic mountains of tea”