The longer entry
Great statesmen and leaders always seem to encounter that magical life-changing experience when they travel overseas, or at least from my limited knowledge of statesmen and leaders. The script always seems to read, so-and-so travels/lives/studies overseas, enjoys himself or herself/is overwhelmed by the civilized (often westernized) ways of life; but then he or she encounters some incident of discrimination/displeasure that galvanizes a steely determination to do so-and-so in his/her own country. Ah, the point of saying all this is simply that I was just reading Anthony Bourdain's A Cook's Tour. Philip just bought it for me. It is a really fast read and I can't remember when was the last time I breezed through a book. All this semester I've been struggling with books, struggling so damn hard to keep my mind on the page. If I ever reach that state of serenity where I can remain focused on the book, sometimes the book is so theoretical that I realize (much later) that I haven't digested anything at all. Screw my attempts to be intellectual, screw the thin line between trashy and good books (why am I even thinking of this? What the hell), I like Anthony Bourdain. A.A. Gill: "Elizabeth David written by Quentin Tarantino'.
Hrm where should I start. I finally have some time to sit down and type, and I'm saying this even though I've had sooo much spare time. Too much. People's comments have made me think about all this travel stuff (it's not a bad thing, this thinking business) and let me whine, attempt to be poignant and oh-so-thoughtful for a moment, ya?
I remember saying, oh, I might not come back until summer of my sophomore year. Screw that. I was pretending to be brave, adventurous, aspiring to be the world-weary traveller, hoping for that magical experience a la Gandhi or Lee Kuan Yew (laugh now, at my breadth of knowledge). Whatever la, I miss home. The lovely scorching sun. THE FEELING OF SWEAT. When did I last sweat? (Now this one-traffic talk is turning gross) The culture, a nice way of saying that I miss lovely singlish, which lets me speak with a slackened jaw, never having to worry about enunciating or pronounciating and all that. The family and the friends. So, I am going to chiong home next year.. can't wait! I'm going to be the bloody tourist I never was, visit all the museums and stuff. And I'm looking forward to it!
We just cooked dinner-or should I say, Daxson cooked and I watched, Cook's Tour in hand. We had fun making syrup and caramelizing banana slices (which we cooked because we had to finish the bananas) and it was surprisingly good. Oolala. And then we had our three course dinner: minced pork marinated with a bunch of sauces, cooked with egg and tomatoes, belachan and long beans and belachan itself (the three courses, lest you imagine some concoction containing all of that combined together). Of course it was all in good fun (as if we knew how to cook better-or should I say, as if I knew how to cook better), I'm not going to pretend that we had brilliant plans for the food. But it was edible la.
I realize that Amherst is pampering my ass off. Seriously, all I do in Amherst is sleep, eat, study and play guitar. Of course, lots of ping-pong as well, but those are the four main activities that occupy my time. And boy do I study a lot (as if I didn't study a lot in JC). I've hardly learnt anything about taking care about myself (or perhaps only in ways I haven't realized yet), and perhaps the only thing I can proud of is staying healthy throughout the semester (the only time I fell sick was last week, the FIRST DAY of the holiday. Go figure.) When I need food, I just crawl to the damn dining hall, and that's about the only thing I need.
I must admit that I haven't been spending a lot of time doing touristy things in London. Not that I'm enjoying the slackness-something is keeping me from sleeping well, and I'm sleeping like a pig. Maybe it's the craving for studying. KIDDING. But I'm sleeping like a pig, spending a lot of time playing mahjong with the three other bears (if you haven't started shaking your head at the former 'joke', maybe this well set you off). But whatever la. I'm happy with the book Philip bought for me and the book on graphic novels that I bought. Remember that comprehension on travel? About how anticipation is always the best part? I always envision myself wanting to live in a city where book store dot the land and coffee shops open late, so I can sip my skinny lattes (haha) and read my books. Somehow I'm starting to realize that I'm painting a very idyllic picture for myself, a picture all the more because I have realized that I cannot read all the 'good' books without falling asleep or getting bored. Haha. This long rambling is getting no where and I can't say I am enjoying it (yet I can't say I'm not enjoying it). Ooh verbal diahreoa (how the hell do you spell it), I love it!
Okay okay ten more days in London, then it's work time in D.C.
Hrm where should I start. I finally have some time to sit down and type, and I'm saying this even though I've had sooo much spare time. Too much. People's comments have made me think about all this travel stuff (it's not a bad thing, this thinking business) and let me whine, attempt to be poignant and oh-so-thoughtful for a moment, ya?
I remember saying, oh, I might not come back until summer of my sophomore year. Screw that. I was pretending to be brave, adventurous, aspiring to be the world-weary traveller, hoping for that magical experience a la Gandhi or Lee Kuan Yew (laugh now, at my breadth of knowledge). Whatever la, I miss home. The lovely scorching sun. THE FEELING OF SWEAT. When did I last sweat? (Now this one-traffic talk is turning gross) The culture, a nice way of saying that I miss lovely singlish, which lets me speak with a slackened jaw, never having to worry about enunciating or pronounciating and all that. The family and the friends. So, I am going to chiong home next year.. can't wait! I'm going to be the bloody tourist I never was, visit all the museums and stuff. And I'm looking forward to it!
We just cooked dinner-or should I say, Daxson cooked and I watched, Cook's Tour in hand. We had fun making syrup and caramelizing banana slices (which we cooked because we had to finish the bananas) and it was surprisingly good. Oolala. And then we had our three course dinner: minced pork marinated with a bunch of sauces, cooked with egg and tomatoes, belachan and long beans and belachan itself (the three courses, lest you imagine some concoction containing all of that combined together). Of course it was all in good fun (as if we knew how to cook better-or should I say, as if I knew how to cook better), I'm not going to pretend that we had brilliant plans for the food. But it was edible la.
I realize that Amherst is pampering my ass off. Seriously, all I do in Amherst is sleep, eat, study and play guitar. Of course, lots of ping-pong as well, but those are the four main activities that occupy my time. And boy do I study a lot (as if I didn't study a lot in JC). I've hardly learnt anything about taking care about myself (or perhaps only in ways I haven't realized yet), and perhaps the only thing I can proud of is staying healthy throughout the semester (the only time I fell sick was last week, the FIRST DAY of the holiday. Go figure.) When I need food, I just crawl to the damn dining hall, and that's about the only thing I need.
I must admit that I haven't been spending a lot of time doing touristy things in London. Not that I'm enjoying the slackness-something is keeping me from sleeping well, and I'm sleeping like a pig. Maybe it's the craving for studying. KIDDING. But I'm sleeping like a pig, spending a lot of time playing mahjong with the three other bears (if you haven't started shaking your head at the former 'joke', maybe this well set you off). But whatever la. I'm happy with the book Philip bought for me and the book on graphic novels that I bought. Remember that comprehension on travel? About how anticipation is always the best part? I always envision myself wanting to live in a city where book store dot the land and coffee shops open late, so I can sip my skinny lattes (haha) and read my books. Somehow I'm starting to realize that I'm painting a very idyllic picture for myself, a picture all the more because I have realized that I cannot read all the 'good' books without falling asleep or getting bored. Haha. This long rambling is getting no where and I can't say I am enjoying it (yet I can't say I'm not enjoying it). Ooh verbal diahreoa (how the hell do you spell it), I love it!
Okay okay ten more days in London, then it's work time in D.C.
posted by whypee | 6:01 AM
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