Help me, I’m going through withdrawal symptoms here.
These are my nieces. As if I couldn’t stand any more cuteness, there are eleven more of these nieces and nephews. Fifteen in all, each one with his or her own excruciating level of adorableness and cheek-pinching huggability that’s enough to wreak havoc on a girl’s otherwise proper vocabulary.
Goodness. I miss these monkeys terribly.
I took probably over a thousand photos during my recent trip to the Philippines, and you bet many of them were shots of the sunset, the beach, my family, and tons of food. But there are a handful of photos taken while riding with my cousin to their office deep in the city that make me stop in my tracks and get serious for a moment.
I think they’re beautiful shots. They’re not pretty like sunsets and flowers, but their beauty lies in their stark honesty and the fact that they remind me of the reality of things here. They remind me that not everything lovely is pristine, and that life here is not all private resorts, daily massages, and endless restaurant meals.
As Crystal so aptly put it, “He may be a monk, but he’s human too.”
Thanks for playing, everyone!
As a side note, I had to slightly alter the shot above. See, this was the original.
One of the upsides of a long-ish layover in a foreign airport is that it’s like getting a chance to explore a new country right from the comfort of an air conditioned terminal. Sometimes, that’s a downside too. But when you’re lugging a heavy computer bag stuffed with important documents (read: my old baby pictures) AND a camera bag, the plethora of benches scattered around a terminal is definitely an upside.
Plus, you get to photograph interesting persons. Like this man here.
Doesn’t he just look … sage? I can almost imagine what wise words must be stirring in his head, ready to be released in a low, hushed voice, every syllable carefully pronounced to ensure that none of the wisdom is lost in the wind. Profound, life-altering words, like, “Take that camera off your face, grasshopper, and look at the world with both eyes.”
I’m pretty sure that’s what he was thinking. Except for the “grasshopper” part. The word in his head may have been a tad more … colorfully descriptive.
But then, he happened upon something that was evidently a welcome distraction. And just like that, the strange lady with the obnoxious camera and obviously heavy bags was forgotten.
Suddenly, I was a nobody again. Not even a grasshopper. Or a locust. Or an epithelial cell on the trachea of a silkworm.
Excuse me while I cry and contemplate my insignificance.
Okay, I’m back. Apparently, I just needed some ice cream.
So, any guesses as to what could have caught this man’s eye? I’ll give you a hint. It wasn’t these.
No sir, he did not have a “They want how much for one of these bags?!” look on his face.
Because I like you so much, I won’t let you just make blind guesses. I’m going to give you a few choices.
#1: Pretty bars of soap (He did look very clean.)
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#2: Chocolate (No explanation necessary.)
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#3: The Glenlivet display and tasting counter (If you answer that this is what distracted ME, I’m disqualifying you. No stalking allowed.)
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#4: The Hello Kitty waiting area (Let’s face it. Who can just walk past this without a second look?)
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#5: Free wi-fi (Almost as self-explanatory as chocolate. But not as tasty.)
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Let the guessing begin!
Oh, and can I say one more thing? I love the people at the Taipei airport. They leave their display stations to go grab a luggage cart for you so you’re not dragging heavy stuff around. And even when they’re telling you that you’re not allowed to photograph some store items, they do it in such a nice and apologetic tone that you’d think you were doing them such a huge favor by obeying their rules.
Wa ga ei li, Taipei!
(And if I said that wrong and wound up typing something stupid instead, then please forget that you knew me. Thank you.)
This post wraps up my New Bombay recap. Mostly because I just can’t take any more reminders of this lunch when I’m practically halfway around the world away. The home delivery charges alone would exceed our mortgage.
So here are the final dishes from that memorable meal. These were the most unconventional ones (at least, to me). I would not have guessed my carnivorous cousins would be inclined to order these, but I’m glad they did.
This is called, quite simply and rather generically, okra with gravy. The okra was partly crispy, which gave it a wonderful texture and eliminated its characteristic slimy feel. The ‘gravy’ was yet another curry-based sauce, creamy and full-bodied. They were perfect together.
The last of the entrees was the Bombay egg masala. Hard-boiled egg quarters with sauce flavored with red chili powder, ginger, turmeric, garlic, onions, and tomatoes (I think). I couldn’t tell if the softness in the sauce was from some added milk/cream, or from a bit of the egg yolk mixing in with the sauce. Either way, it was simply wonderful.
Finally, dessert came. We didn’t have a chance to order more because the owner came by with a tray of complimentary sweets for the table. They were like milk candy with a nutty flavor. Great way to end a heavily-spiced meal. Plus, I had never seen the chocolate flavored kind before, so that was a nice treat.
My cousin sneaked in an order of gulab jamun too, which is basically a fried dough ball in a sugary rosewater syrup.
It was good, but I have to admit that the best gulab jamun I’ve tasted still belongs to my aunt. Yes, she of the homemade lassi fame. (No, I’m not biased. Why do you ask?)
Now, you may have noticed that most of the angles of these food shots are identical. I can explain that. Imagine a gang of serious eaters at a table, all starving (except that one loser *cough*me*cough* that we won’t mention). I didn’t have the heart to ask them to please hold off on digging in while I painstakingly tried to find good angles with which to document our gluttony feast. All I could do was sit still, hold my camera, while my cousin hurriedly put one dish after the other in front of me for its glamour shot. Then, after just one photo – just ONE – away it was whisked, on its way to an unceremonious demise.
It was a massacre, I’m telling you. It was difficult to watch. Almost as difficult as trying to keep track of where the dishes were.
I loved every minute of it.
I write, cook, play music, and make pictures. Not necessarily in that order. I was born and raised in the Philippines, and it shows. That means I eat rice with every meal, love my cousins like my own siblings, and firmly believe that avocados are best eaten with cream and sugar.
If you want to learn more about me, here are 43 things I'd like to do. Here's a little something about my name, in case you were wondering. Here are some other places you'll find me:
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One summer night in 2010, our house burned to the ground and we lost everything we had. This is the story of what happened and how life and hope can always rise from ashes.
