Snippets of my week

View from the door

Love letter from H on my birthday

C(h)oco-nut cake with a "truck full of love"

my office

a little piece of Montmartre

fat pancakes, the way H likes it

The 'hood

Stairway to "heaven"

Something new, something sushi

the pot calling the kettle blue!

Bits of My Weekend

[ all photos are courtesy of F ]

Some Dirty Laundry

My mind has been full of crumpled papers for the past few weeks or even months. They need ironing but I didn't seem to know how. It's like the littlest thing that bothers me the most. I tried a lifestyle of gratitude, faking it just to see if it would do any good, but it didn't work. Being idle certainly let my mind run all sorts of course. I don’t like where they typically end up.

H always warns me that I won’t be always received with open arms. For my skin colour, for my background. At times I wish I have blond hair, fair skin and blue eyes. Another time, I wished I were 5 inches taller, so at least people wouldn't have to stare down at me (quite literally). I can’t exactly fend off all stereotypes, but I try to do the little things I can, held my head up, chin high and walk straight. Correct any misgivings they have about my race (or where I come from) in general. H comforts me by saying that the label “a developed country” is meaningless. The way they think is not always developed. Even one who comes from a developing country can often forget his/her humble beginnings.


I won’t say I miss working, but I certainly miss doing something productive for myself. Working towards a goal, like having a KPO (Key Performance Objectives). I didn't realize goals and objectives are very precious until I was made aware that unless I set myself some purpose, my life is like a paper floating in the air, blown around by the wind. That's why I hold my french classes to heart, refusing to even skip one course. It is my goal, my only goal at the moment. And I actually look forward to the day I work in France. It will be my bittersweet victory. I will remember all the heartaches while I try to master this language.. the times I feel like I'm the third leg or fifth wheel, the times I struggle with so many exceptions in french grammar, the times I strain to understand native speakers and feel dejected when I don't. [I was so happy when I met C (a Korean who is married to a French man) and could hold a 1-hour conversation with her in French. I realize foreigners tend to pronounce each word individually, we want to make sure we pronounce it right, hence it's easier to understand, as opposed to native speakers who use a lot of liaisons. I guess this is the reason why I can hold a lengthy conversation with my mother in law but not my own husband. Until I have built up a good library of vocabularies and familiarity, any liaisons of 2-3 basic words come across as another foreign, new word]. 

Finally.. after so very long, I found a group of people that I'm familiar with. Maybe because I grew up in English speaking community that I have no problem understanding the jokes (I didn't need somebody to decipher the joke for me or explain what is 'lebay' or 'ciamik' or any other words). There will always be the Asian gatherings (Indonesian, Japanese, Chinese) and there will always be the French gathering but I'm very very happy that I found an English speaking community (American & British). I think yesterday is probably the highlight of my time in Angola. I feel as if I have come full circle. 

And lastly, I am very happy that I found a good yoga teacher here. LS, if you're reading this.. this is for you. Here I understand whether you're lifting your left leg or right leg. At least, I didn't embarrass myself and got it wrong like I did in Venice :) And I finally understand what the strap is for.

A taste of Lookal

Even after 14 months in Angola, I am still learning to cope with the various stereotypes slapped onto me.

* I look Chinese. Hence I must be from China.
* I must speak Portuguese, because I am presumably from China who is always eloquent in the local language. Having said that, Chinese is often mocked for their short tongue and funny accent.
* I should not worry so much about safety, because Angolans do not mess up with Chinese who is good in Kungfu, ninja and all things martial arts.
* Singapore is part of China. Worse, some OECD residents tried to fake recognition about where the hell Singapore is, when their eyes clearly show they had no clues.
* I am Asian, hence I need to be given geography lesson. On one occasion, one girl introduced herself and said I'm from Belgium, it is next to France, to which I replied in French, quel cote? a le nord ou le sud? Peut-etre l'ouest?
* I am married to a white boy, therefore I must be more open minded than same-origin/race/nationality/.. couple.


Mostly it is simply about educating them. For e.g. you rarely see Angolan in mixed marriage. There is, but not aplenty. In fact, when we double date with D & R, the men on the street would call her whore and other names, never to R (who is a french man), but always to D (who is an Angolan girl). Why are women always the victim? But that's another story.

The various stereotypes about Chinese and China, a lot of it are valid (though I cannot think of a more stupid lemma than security & safety in relation to my race). But the negative connotation also comes as a result of poor quality chinese products available here. I'm not only talking about lightbulbs or mobile phones. Most chinese companies here work in the construction industry. They are the ones building the hotels, offices, houses.. They hammer the nails 24x7, 7/7, they will finish the job faster than any other construction company, but they also often do not do a good job. E.g. You can't close the toilet door on a new, minted office building. Why? Because the locks aren't parallel hence do not latch each other. But when you find the same thing one cubicle after another, you surely get the gist? Another e.g. Our current guest house was said to be built by Chinese company not more than 6 yrs ago. And look, the roof is leaking everywhere.

Having stated the poor quality of Chinese constructions, I cannot not mention that it is the duty of the owner, building manager, etc to ensure the locks are working, the roofs are built as per specifications, timeline is met, budget is managed. Regardless of nationality or background, it is his/her responsibility. So if the house owner doesn't do his job, don't come home crying and bitch the construction company instead. In fact, I'd call him silly for paying that amount of money for that kind of quality.

I guess all in all, Angola is still very much an immature country. You can tell from the billboards. You can sense it when you're discussing a hypothetical situation. Even H's new office building has disco lights on the outside that are switched on every evening. It doesn't even exude business and professionalism but hey, let the freedom of expression run free. This country has not been free for a long time.


[Addendum: the road works happening along our guest house has been on going as long as I can remember. The goal is to widen the road, create more roundabouts and demolish all buildings by the seaside. A good 4 months ago, the first part of the roadwork was completed. A long stretch of smooth road accompanied by a wide berth of promenade, complete with exercise area (chin up, sit up, etc).  The second part is now happening. It involves of widening the roads (from 2 lanes into what looks like going to be 6 lanes) and creating roundabouts. Just last weekend, I noticed they had started demolishing the tail end of the newly-built-promenade, because the 2 new lanes will be running directly on top of it.]

Ginger Cookies

One thing that always stumped new comers to Angola (or Africa for that matter) is the consistency of products. The problem is not about finding things. You can find Rogan Josh's Chutneys here if you know where to shop. Fresh norwegian salmon, no problem.

But what pissed most of us, or yours truly at least, is how you can find things one day and not for the rest of the year. There are plenty of live chickens, but I haven't been able to find chicken breast meat in any supermarkets the past 2 weeks. You have to take frozen chicken and cut into pieces when all you want is breast meat, for example. Now imagine when you need 6 chicken breast meat.

Eggs are another example. The eggs that we buy in a pack of 12 comes in varying sizes. Some puny, some tall (note: tall. Not large). They certainly aren't the best eggs for baking, especially when you need them for bronzing/ colour. Worse, I couldn't find egg in several supermarkets last week that when I saw they are sold free-style (no brand whatsoever), I bought 40 of them.

That's why going to supermarket becomes an adventure. You don't know what you will find. There is no consistency of brands (even to the most basic item such as shampoo, detergents, butter) nor there is consistency of quality. And if you're not careful, you'd be paying double for the same item sold in another supermarket. Yeap, there's no consistency of price at all. Sometimes you can even find french butter such as President or Elle & Vire cheaper than local angolan butter such as Angolana. Within the same aisle. Side by side. Won't you feel like you've just hit a jackpot? I certainly do.

Hence why I've been suspending baking. I couldn't found my usual brand for dark chocolate, and what's available is the Lindt dark chocolate of a reduced price of 6 USD per block (200gr). I have been coveting David Lebovitz's chocolate tart, but I have to put the idea aside for the time being.

Instead I make ginger biscuits. They are oh so very easy and taste extremely good. I'm so going to make a big bunch to share, a Christmas cookie of some sort.

Original recipe is from here. I'm re-writing below in metrics.

Ginger Cookies (16 biscuits)

Ingredients:
* 170gr self raising flour
* 114 gr light brown sugar
* 1 tsp baking soda
* 57 gr melted butter
* 1 heaping tsp ginger powder
* 1.5 tsp honey (or any golden syrup)
* 1 egg, whisked

How to:
* Preheat oven to 180 C.

* Whisked the egg, melt the butter, then add all ingredients into a medium bowl. Mix well.

* Using your hand, roll in your hand the size of a small pingpong ball. Flatten. Ensure some space between each flatten cookies. The baking soda will make sure they grow in size.

* Bake for 15 mins or so. You can bake it longer, but when it cools down, it will be very crispy. We like our cookies chewy :)

Enjoy. I had 2 4 while typing this. Oh my gosh, this cookie is so so good. When they are semi-warm, it's chewy in the inside while crisp on the outside. I'm going to ruin my appetite before lunch.
And when I can found dark chocolate, maybe I'll make Ginger Chocolate Chip Cookies ;)

Alors, bon journée!

Ramblings & Update

After my amounting frustration with this country, the worsening condition we experienced lately, my roller coaster emotion from promises broken abruptly made up with even bigger promises, I have to admit that I'm feeling much much better after last weekend's party at C&N's apartment. It was my first gathering that's not full of people from H's company. In fact, there were hardly any people from H's company. It was nice to finally chat with so many people from different background, about places they have lived in, the things they have encountered. It's good to tell my story and listen to their stories, it's comforting to know that our circumstance is hardly unique. It's good to be reminded to be grateful.

H is not someone who enjoys meeting new people. He doesn't actively search out people's company. I think he's a stay-at-home kinda guy. He's perfectly contented by resting at home throughout the weekend. On the other hand, I crave talking and gossiping with others, being active. If not because of transportation issue, I would have moved around more often. But for now, I need to be satisfied with a car pool from H's company.

Anyway, I think one of these days I'm going to break away from my normal routines and force H to accompany me. I heard about Luanda Hash (Aberdeen Hash, Addis Ababa Hash, Balikpapan Hash..) when I first came, never really had the guts to go alone. But now that I've met a Venezuelan lady who has been participating for 2.5 yrs, I'm more convinced to join. Maybe I can slowly train for a 10k run again. I also heard about Vinyasa yoga group somewhere in Luanda Sul, that'll be nice especially since I brought my mat with me.

And today is the day that we've been waiting for the last 6 months, the day that we're finally going to see our future abode. I am excited but nervous at the same time. We are not asking much, but please please please let it be a normal house. I'm hopeful.

My flu is getting better, my voice is no longer deep throaty (and sexy) and H had a LOT of rest. We certainly have a lot to be thankful for. Have a great week ahead, guys!

Bisous.

Into thin air

Last night, H & I decided to throw a dinner party, hosted by us, but at someone else's house. Our tiny space is not big enough to accommodate anymore extra than 1 guest. Coincidentally, R is leaving this country while we will be enjoying the sun and sand somewhere else. So we thought, what more reason can one ask for? And that's how I cooked myself silly for 2 straight days.

There were only 7 of us, but one is vegetarian, one doesn't eat anything beyond red meat, one eats to accompany his vodka, and R happened to had a major accident the night before that left him with only 1 functioning arm. 6 men and 1 woman, moi. What a perfect storm. But since our gathering tends to be bbq style, hence tons of red meat and beers, I decided to fix a menu with some flair that only a female can conjuncture.

For appetizers, I had
(1) Pizza with caramelized onions, gorgonzola (yes I found it) and avocado
(2) Chorizo with white wine sauce
(3) Pataniscas de bacalhau.

As main,
(1) Beef moussaka
(2) Grilled chicken
(3) Roasted fall vegetables (beet roots, turnips, red + green capsicum, carrots, potatoes).
For the vegetarian, I made him falafel and leek fried rice.

As dessert,
(1) Pear, almond & cinnamon galette
(2) Chocolate panna cotta.

On hindsight, I should not try to be that ambitious. I never knead that many dough in my life and I think my fingers and arms cramped. The ball of my feet was so painful that I couldn't get a wink. My lower back screamed from standing too long (Just so we're clear: I am in my fittest level ever). I had no time to answer calls, nor do I have a proper meal until dinner. Heh.. so maybe the thought of entering this glorious food industry is not going to pan out after all.

But I tell myself that before I leave this place and wave goodbye to tai-tai-hood, there must be some sort of pinnacle to my sabbatical leave. There must be some kind of achievement that I would be proud to flaunt, like having a black belt. Only then I can fully justify the squandering of my 'youth', no?

I will have a good think about it while sipping my caipiblack.

Auf wiedersehen, R! Till next time.

Living la Vida Loca

Home entertaining is, by all means, no small feat. Obviously the most important thing is the menu. You gotta think about what to serve, about quantity, about dietary restrictions and about variety. Next you gotta think about table arrangements: how to decorate your table, what your center piece is going to be, what colour, which napkin fold. Next you think about ambience, about lighting, some music and of course fragrance. Sometimes you think of sitting arrangement.

But really, all you want is it to be perfect. Home entertaining is our attempt to have a normal life. It's done occasionally, with careful planning, selective guests and always full of love.

And still, life can screw you up.

In this place, you go to multiple supermarkets to buy what you usually can find in a single supermarket elsewhere.
In this place, you learn to hoard things because you don't know when the next shipment will come.
In this place, you learn to buy seasonal products. Simply because there's no other alternative.

Imagine now that today, one of the warmest day in a long time, the day that South Africa beat Fiji in a good match, you found that only one supermarket is open in the entire downtown, because it's the birthday of the first President.
You found that the population is either on the street or in the supermarket with you.
And on this particular day, you're supposed to make the big shopping for your up coming dinner party. And found that you gotta scratch off half of your menu (that's already based on products available last week) and think of alternatives on the spot.
You queued for a long time with your full trolley since no cashier was ever in a rush. And still five different people asked if they can come up before you. "I only have 2/3/4.."

Imagine entering the supermarket at 9.30am and left at noon. Imagine that it took another hour until you reached home.

And even after all that, you thank God, that at least you still have a full trolley of food.

And more importantly, thank God that it's only a week more till holiday.

my private lapdancer

A cup of coffee

This time last year, I was packing and boxing 11 years of my life. I was eating, drinking and hugging people like there's no tomorrow. I was reminiscing my fears and finally my joys of a place I call home, a place that shaped and liberated me.

This time last year, I was very much afraid of what to come, how my life would turn, yet very much excited about finally joining H, of going to places that most people read about.

This time last year, my biggest fear was to be completely dependent on H.

Black-bottomed macaroon

This time this year, I say my grace. Of what I have become, of what is laid over my feet.

I say my grace. And get busy in the kitchen.

p/s: Btw Miss Angola won the current Miss Universe title!!