Happy Birthday, GCF!

A shout out to my girl from Naperville, who is embarking on her 33rd 365-day journey around the sun today!

Ch-Check It Out

Bush's Climate Change Conference (Sep 27-28). An oxymoron?

Women's World Cup 2007 in China (Sep 10-30). Go Marta!

Save 2nd Base. A little humor in support of a tough fight.

Culturally-conscious Nikes. Hey, I know some 'bear paw'd Asians who could use these, too.

In Others' Words

Occasionally, I stumble upon or overhear interesting quotes that make me pause...

"I've always been fascinated by American points of view toward violence. The death penalty in the U.S. is a kind of legalized revenge, isn't it? You've even kind of admitted to that fact, too, the way that families of the victim can attend the execution."
-- Film Director Neil Jordan ("The Crying Game", "The Brave One"), an Irishman.

In Squeaks' Kitchen

Here's one of my favorite Korean recipes. Quick and easy, and gives my boy at home a happy tummy. Ironically, our kitchen was demo'd this morning -- to make room for new cabinets, counter, and sink -- so my next chance to make this (or cook at all) probably won't be for another couple of weeks!

Kimchee Chigae (or kimchee stew)
Source:Recipe Zaar


Ingredients:
1-2 lb lean pork
2-3 cups "ripe" kimchee
1/4 cup juice, from kimchee (optional)
1 box tofu, cubed
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1/4 cup water
1 dash salt and pepper
2 tablespoons crushed red hot peppers
2 cloves crushed garlic

Directions:
1. Cut pork in bite-size chunks.
2. Combine all ingredients into saucepan and bring to boil.
3. Stir occasionally.
4. Simmer over medium heat until kimchee is tender.
5. Serve with steamed brown rice.

Notes:
This recipe is not as liquidy as traditional chigae.
Open windows to share the intense kimchee aroma with your neighbors! (advisable to avoid suffocation)

Bon appetit. Or as the Koreans say, 잘 먹겠습니다 (chal-meok-kes-seum-ni-da)!

Blattella asahinai

I find phobias fascinating - the psychology of the condition; the fact that it can be all-consuming, uncontrollable, and evoke such extreme feelings of terror and dread, even when the perceived threats are not real. It's also interesting how certain phobias can be overcome, while others cannot.

I may be setting myself up for the worst unfunny practical joke from my meanest enemy, but I will entrust you with this: The one thing that instills the greatest fear and panic in me, above all else in this world,...which may make me pause if I had to choose between rescuing my loved ones from uncertain death and facing this nemesis, is...the dreaded cucaracha. I harbor such an intense abhorrence for this species that even writing the word in my first language makes me shudder.

While I'm pleased to have successfully overcome other phobias by facing them head-on -- E.G., conquered my fear of heights (acrophobia) at age 16 by "bravely" climbing 668 steps to the Eiffel Tower's 2nd observation deck via metal stairs that vibrated with every step and gust of wind (okay, to impress a cute boy, but hey, it worked); and triumphed over claustrophobia after a summer of studying bats in narrow and low-ceilinged lava tube caves -- my distress over "le crancelat" (in French) lingers.

I trace the original trauma back to my childhood, when I was a mere 6-year old, rinsing dishes on my tip toes at the kitchen sink. When I sensed someone...or something...watching me from across the room, I spun around just in time to see the brown 3-inch long-legged winged menace dashing towards me. It (brace yourself) made it half way up my exposed leg before my screams and violent flailing made it drop to the floor. I honestly can't remember what happened immediately afterwards, which I attribute to shock, but my next conscious moment found me curled up in my upstairs bedroom floor, crying and rocking.

I've come face-to-face with this adversary many times since then, in university housing, basement apartments, and most recently, during my Katrina relief work in New Orleans, where they get as big and fly with as much agility as the ones I grew up with. And to make things worse, they seem drawn to me! My teammates nicknamed me "Roach Landing Pad" after my second hurricane recovery trip for a reason. Needless to say, facing this phobia head-on has not helped me overcome it, but has instead intensified it. And I am ready to admit defeat. Damn you, little beast, damn you!

Fed Up

A Momentary Lapse

I turned up the volume on the car radio and glanced in the rearview mirror. There she was, mouthing the words to the same song -- JT's Summer Love. As she lip-synched "...tell me how they got that pretty little face on that pretty little frame, girl", her face grimaced dramatically as she rocked it out, relishing the heavy bass pounding in her chest. I chuckled at the pseudo rocker in the mirror - me - tousled my hair, and returned my eyes to the road.

Inspiration out of Desperation

A couple of months back, I made a pledge to only write when I'm inspired. I seem to have hit a slump this week, possibly due to jetlag from my trip or perhaps a lack of exciting things happening relative to the flood of activities during my travels. I recall fondly how writing themes often come to me fairly easily, finding me like Slim in 8 Mile, jotting down observations in a little notebook on my various commutes. I used to confine my musings to a personal journal -- for noone else's eyes but mine and whomever I will it to -- but now that I have this blog and at least a few loyal readers, I find myself more aware of my surroundings, constantly seeking nuggets of inspiration while being careful not to force anything. Interestingly, this entry was inspired while I desperately pondered my lack of inspiration!

Tidbit you may not know: I used to belong to an acapella singing group called Inspiration. By invitation, we lifted our voices at weddings, funerals, and on visits with folks who were ill. I found loads of inspiration for writing during my time with that usually-all-male group. Those thoughts are confined to my journal, though, so consider yourself deprived,...unless you give me good reason to adopt you!

In Pictures: S'pore and Phuket

A few photos from my recent trip to southeast Asia...

SingaporeColorful monorail cars traveling between the main island and the resort island of Sentosa, against the backdrop of Singapore's downtown skyline and the world's busiest port.

Mmm, breakfast! Roti prata and mutton curry for dipping.

Wide assortment of tropical fruits for sale at a Chinatown stall - bananas, rambutans, mangos, logans, mangosteen, langsat,...

Rearshot of a 70+ Eurasian busker singing "golden oldies" at the Tampines MRT (mass rapid transit) train station. Mum smiled nostalgically, recognizing every song as being from "her time".

An indo-Pacific humpback dolphin (a.k.a. pink dolphin 'cos it turns pink as it ages) at Sentosa island. Native to the waters of Singapore, Thailand, Vietnam, and China. Cha and I swam with 5-year old Splash!

Two cockatoos perched on a palm tree near my childhood home. Non-native to Singapore, they probably relocated from Indonesia where intense logging and slash-and-burn practices are decimating natural habitat. (click on photo to zoom in)

Phuket
View of Phuket from above as our plane makes its descent.

A roadside butcher selling fresh meat from his stall.

1 1/2-year old Jumbo relieving an itch on his butt.

Jumbo's 6-year old sister frolicking in the Andaman Sea with her mahute (handler and constant companion).

Hunched worker at a cashew nut factory, painstakingly shelling the nuts, one at a time.

A monument to Chan, the widow of a former governor, and her sister Muk, heroines who successfully frightened away invading Burmese in 1785 by having women cut their hair and follow the men in battle with rolled-up banana leaves that looked like muskets.

Parking spaces outside a grocery store are sheltered with cool blue roofs, to shield from the tropical heat.

Dusk along the Phuket coast.

A "Rojak" of Emotions

"Rojak" = Singaporean for "mixture", referring to a salad of local ingredients, each with its own distinct flavor.

I'm home. I wrote the following during the first leg of my flight back, en route from Singapore to Hong Kong:

"SQ2 is shooting through the cloudless blue sky, away from the tropical island that is my childhood home. I am overcome by an emptiness in the pit of my stomach and a slight ache in my heart as the distance grows between this plane and the loving company of my relatives whom I'm leaving behind. But wait, another emotion, a comforting one, is trying to relieve the melancholic weight in my chest, as my pulse quickens in anticipation of returning to the place I now call home, where my guy awaits. In the midst of heartache mingled with excitement, I'm counting my blessings for having folks in my life who evoke this 'rojak' of emotions in me."

A Week in Phuket

We’re back in S’pore after a relaxing holiday in Mai Khao on Phuket island, southern Thailand. A few highlights and observations from our trip:

• ‘Tho the Mai Khao coast wasn’t hit as hard as other parts of the island by the Tsunami, there was evidence of increased preparedness, like shiny new signs designating tsunami evacuation routes to assembly areas on higher ground. One of these areas, a large plot of land that doubled as a coconut plantation, was just behind our suite.
  
  
• Majestic domed mosques and ornate templates are a common sight along the main roads. The social unrest associated with regions further south doesn’t seem to have tainted the harmony among the Muslim and Buddhist locals who almost equally comprise the Phuket population.
  
  
• They drive on the left, with the left-most narrower lane reserved for motorcycles and bicycles. I dare say there may be more motorcycles than cars, many with side carts covered with umbrellas, some carrying additional passengers or laden with hawker wares.
  
  
• We learned to greet with “Sawatdee-ka” (or “-krap” if you’re a dude), accompanied by a sweet smile and a respectful nod, in imitation of our gracious hosts.
  
  
• We rode a 6-year old elephant on the beach, bareback! A real gentle giant, which we watched, amazed, as it frolicked in the Andaman Sea. Imagine a 1-ton beast allowing itself to be swept off its feet by the heavy pounding waves and rolling playfully in the sand. The bond between the elephant and her human companion (“mah-hute”) was also magical and touching, with him rubbing her face as she wrapped her swinging trunk around his arm.
  
  
• We “kids” went kayaking in Phang Nam and Krabi bays with Paddle Asia.Com and got quite a workout! The numerous karst islands resembled grazing and slumbering elephants, covered with dense forests except for the sheer cliffs. Vibrantly-colored herons, frenetically-pecking sandpipers, and a lizard as long and twice as thick as my arm greeted us as we paddled past them.
  

The ultimate highlight of the past week has been QT with my aged Aunts. I cherish those afternoons (during our escapes from the midday heat) when Eema and Auntie R reminisced about “war time” during the Japanese Occupation of Singapore and shared fond and still-vivid memories of family members who have since left us. I will never forget those moments.