As I lay in bed here listening to the newly
opened restaurant eight floors below, I hear the sound of upbeat R&B music
and a ruckus of laughter and jeers from patrons amidst traffic and whistles
from the security guards that scatter around the area. After a long day in the
middle of the hustle bustle of the CBD, with cars honking their horns left and
right and pollution filling the air, all I really want is a moment of quiet and
a big gulp of sweet fresh air. Maybe I’m getting old (yes, ripe old age of 30!)
or maybe I’m transitioning into the next phase of my life.
Once upon a time I lived for the
fast-paced, hotshot lifestyle, always knowing where the next party was. Big
crowds and congested city streets didn’t bother me, and silence and darkness
frightened me. Nowadays I yearn for the calm of the night, the leaves of
hundred-year-old trees rustling in the hushed wind, the gentle waves crashing
against the pebbled shore… falling asleep so calmly in the protective arms of
my love, taking me away to heavenly dreams… I want to wake at the crack of
dawn when the world is still sleeping, the bright stream of sunlight shining through the windows as it rises on the horizon, faintly at first then a slow
crescendo to the bright morning light.
“Ça va bien, merci! Un pain de chocolat,
s’il vous plait.” (I’m fine, thanks. One pain au chocolat, please.)
*Lady
at the patisserie hands over the perfectly flaky chocolate-filled croissant*
“Merci beaucoup, madame!” (Thank you
very much, madame!)
“Je vous en prie. Bonne journée!” (You’re
welcome. Have a good day!)
This is pretty much the regular
conversation I have anywhere I order my favourite pain au chocolat in Paris.
This similar conversation pattern is also applied everywhere else – from shopping
at Galeries Lafayette, to ordering escargots at the local brasserie, or ordering
a burger at Quick. Before I visited Paris for the first time a few years ago, I
was warned about how rude and unfriendly the Parisians are. However, as soon as
I landed I was greeted with nothing but politeness and even a few flirty
exchanges with some Frenchmen. Since then, I’ve come across a few rude folk but
more often than not, I’ve had very pleasant experiences with Parisians. It
perhaps could be that I understand and speak some French, or it could basically
be because I researched French culture before heading over and learned that it
is a custom to simply say bonjour or bonsoir (good evening) whenever you
walk into any establishment. I’ve made the mistake of forgetting to greet the
lady serving us at the canteen at work and went ahead and ordered my meal, only
to receive a strange look and a stern bonjour from the woman waiting for me
to acknowledge her greeting. Safe to say, I’ve never failed to offer my salutations
at every place I go since that incident.
I fell in love instantly the moment I stepped
foot in Paris for the first time. Yes, it’s dirty, it smells strange, and it’s
not exactly the safest place, but it certainly has its charm and is probably
the most beautiful and photogenic city I’ve been to so far. The traffic and the
crazy driving are not my cup of tea, but the architecture, cobble-stoned
streets, and the history involved in every nook and cranny of the City of
Lights just absolutely mesmerises me. Moreover, one of the things that I love
most about Paris is the French etiquette – la
politesse. Formality is key and is practiced in the way they greet and
speak to one another, the way they dress (I envy the effortless beauty of the
Parisians!), and in any situation they present themselves. I visited a few
factories and warehouses for work this month – places where you wouldn’t
generally think you’d need to bring table manners to – and even there, I felt
like Belle in Beauty and the Beast when she’s walking through the town. There
were a lot of bonjours, mercis, handshakes, and cheek-to-cheek kisses –
between myself and the people I met and even between the people that worked
there who saw each other daily.
I’ve lived in and visited several
countries where the people are known for their friendliness and hospitality,
like the Philippines, Thailand, and Cambodia to name a few. However, I think
the French claims the top spot for me when it comes to genuine greetings and
definitely wins for politeness. From personal experience, I think the Parisians’
snobby reputation comes the lack of understanding of their customs and culture
and also the language barrier. Back in the day, you’d stop a person on the
street to ask for directions and they wouldn’t be able to help you and this was
mistaken for snobbery. However, they basically just didn’t speak the language or
didn’t understand your request. Today though, more and more young French people
are learning English so it’s easier to get around as a tourist with no knowledge
of the language. Furthermore, how would you feel if a stranger visits your
country and disrespects your local customs? When you walk into a shop and
forget to greet the shopkeeper, they take that as a sign of disrespect. At the
end of the day, it really isn’t much effort to say hello and acknowledge
someone’s presence, is it?
After being in Paris for almost a month,
it was easy to become accustomed to French etiquette. I was raised to always be
polite and presentable, but the Parisians take it up a notch. The effortlessly great
dress sense and perfectly coiffed ‘dos are not just for themselves, but to show
respect for others as well. Admittedly, it’s made me take an extra few minutes
in the morning to think about my outfit for the day and no matter how bad my
day is and unsociable I feel, I always end up feeling better after a Bonjour!
and brief exchange with the doorman, taxi driver, or waiter. It never hurts to
say hello and ask how someone’s day is going. Who knows? You may just brighten
up their day! So take the time to be polite and greet that stranger. And before
you travel to a foreign country, don’t forget to read up on their culture
because something that is proper for you may be completely rude to them.
Bonne
journée, mes amis!
Image: Shutterstock
This post is in honour of the French
National Day – La Fête Nationale or Le quatorze juillet (the 14th
of July), commonly and mistakenly known as Bastille Day (which apparently is
completely wrong – read “Stop Calling It Bastille Day!” by Sidonie Sawyer, a
Franco-American journalist for The Huffington Post).
There seems to be this fascination with traveling alone and
finding yourself. I have to admit that since I read and watched “Eat, Pray,
Love” I wanted to be take a trip on my own so I, too, could find myself. But I
think I was more excited about the idea of the travel itself more than the “finding
myself” aspect. Why do I need to find myself anyway if I already know who I am?
Sure sure, different strokes for different folks I guess. I never got to do my “Eat,
Pray, Love” trip simply because I didn’t have the budget. Admittedly, I was
also a bit scared. You see, I’m a planner and I guess you could say quite OC
too. Even though the thought of just quitting my job, packing my bags, and
seeing where the world takes me was (still is!) enticing, I couldn’t get myself
to actually do it. I am quite envious though of those who do manage to do just
that and with only $100 in their pocket. I think I’d have a nervous breakdown!
Saying this, I have traveled by myself but for work. Usually
it’s a few days in a city I’m already familiar with and since it’s for work and
I’m there for meetings, I’m taken care of by such gracious hosts who make sure
I am comfortable, well-fed, and safe. So it’s a lot different experience than
traveling purely on your own accord.
I’m currently on a business trip in France. I arrived on
June 21st and will be here till mid-July so you could say I’m a
temporary resident for a little short of a month. This trip is a bit special
for a few reasons:
I’m traveling on my own but for work so I have
meetings up the hoop – meaning, at least I know some people from the offices
here but I’ve just met them so no one I’m really close to or know very well
I arrived in Paris on my own, with some
colleagues (whom I work closely with) only arriving a week or more later
Even when my colleagues arrived, I still had to
travel solo within France to places I’d never been to before
Though I understand and speak a bit of French, I’m
not 100% fluent and your brain completely forgets all the French you’ve ever
learned when you’re nervous and anxious
This basically goes back to the whole “finding yourself when
you travel alone” thing. I can’t say I’ve “found” myself but what I do know is
that I’m discovering snippets of my personality that I didn’t previously know
about. For example, I’ve come to realise that I do not like traveling alone. I’m
perfectly okay with it but I do not prefer it. I like visiting the sites and,
even more so, the lesser-known, non-touristy places and experiencing the local
culture. It’s fun and exciting but it’s not as much so when I don’t have
someone to share those experiences with. I like to talk about them and compare
notes and I think that is one of the things I love most about traveling.
Another thing I’ve learned about myself is that I’m actually
a tough little cookie. Some people may see me as someone with a strong
personality and can be bitchy at times, but when it all boils down to it I’m a
softy at heart. Last week the Parisian taxi drivers went on strike so there was
no way to get in/out or around the city apart from private cars and trains. It
was the day after the strike and taxis were still scarce on the road. I had to
get to Pantin (a suburb just outside the periphery of Paris, also a place that
isn’t exactly the safest place to be walking around) for a 9:00am meeting. I
waited for a taxi for 10 minutes at the taxi stand near the hotel but none had
passed. I didn’t want to be late so I had no choice but to take the Metro. If
you haven’t been on the Paris Metro, let me tell you it’s a crazy maze of lines
that run underground the entire city and can be quite confusing. I’m usually
good when it comes to navigating subways but in my rushed anxiety, I’d stepped
on the wrong train and only realised after the doors had shut. Not a huge deal
though as I got off at the next stop to return to the original station to take
the correct train.
Navigating roads, on the other hand, even WITH Google Maps,
is something I am terrible at. To make matters worse, there are 2 roads with
the exact same name in two different areas just about the same distance away
from the Metro station I had gotten off at. Long story short, I had gone to the
road in the wrong area – still in this unsafe part of town. A few calls to the
office and even they had no idea where I was and I was starting to get
frustrated. Then I realised that it wasn’t a good idea to be frustrated and
nervous in such a place as it makes you an easy target. After about half an
hour, we finally figured out where I was and I had to walk back to the
beginning to get to the right place. Our company always warns us about how
dangerous Pantin is and there have been numerous incidents of our colleagues
being robbed so you can imagine my huge sigh of relief when I finally made it
to the office in one piece. This particular experience basically showed me that
even if I can be a scaredy cat at times, when the going gets tough, I know that
I’ll be able to get my act together and manage myself through it.
The rest of my colleagues are arriving this weekend and I’d
be glad to see and hang out with them. Sure, it was fun navigating Paris and
other parts of France on my own for almost 2 weeks and having to converse in a
foreign language, but I’m looking forward to finally sharing experiences with
people I know. Would I choose to travel on my own for pleasure? Probably not.
But I guess you could sort of say I did “find” a little bit of myself during
this trip so far.
Have you traveled or do you travel alone? Do you prefer solo
traveling or with at least one other person? What did you discover about
yourself, other people, etc.?
My dad's a directional driller in the oil & gas industry. To make it simple, he's like Bruce Willis in Armageddon and I'm Liv Tyler, minus the going to space part and me living on the rig and having my boyfriend shot at (although one wrong move, and I don't doubt my dad would bring out the shotgun! Watch out, Ross! Haha).
At the Singapore Zoo in the early '90s
I grew up without seeing my dad much because he worked offshore. Some stints would last a few weeks, some a few months. I didn't really think much of it because it was like that since I was born and the only way I knew. I guess it would've been strange if my dad was the 9-5 office guy because I was just so used to the way things were. Even though my dad was away a lot and we didn't have the technological advancements such as Facebook and Skype back then, I never felt like he was absent. Sure, he missed a few dance recitals and swimming competitions, but he never once made me feel unloved or uncared for. My dad has always prioritised my mother and me and I knew he was out there working his ass off to provide a comfortable life for us. He has stopped at nothing just to be able to put me in the best schools and get pretty much anything I wanted. Saying that, I am spoiled to an extent but definitely not a brat as I was raised to appreciate what I have and know how lucky I am to have the life I live.
I wish I got my dad's green eyes
I'm a daddy's girl and my dad is my hero. I admire him for all that he's been through and all that he puts up with. He is sarcastic and says it like it is. He's not afraid to speak his mind and is honest. He's a hard worker and a tough critic. He is strong and has a soft heart. He is quick tempered and impatient. Sometimes his words slice through your heart when he's angry. But he'll also be the first to say sorry when he has to. These are just some of his strengths and his flaws, but these are what makes my daddy. I've never looked up to anyone like I do to him and I'm proud to call him my father.
The signature Jack look
Thank you for everything, Dad. I probably don't even know half of what you've gone through to give me this beautiful life. But know that I appreciate every bit of it. I thank God every day that He chose you to be my dad. I love you!
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!!!
Wishing all dads out there a Happy Father's Day as well!
I'm a little picky when it comes to seafood. I don't eat oysters,
clams, or mussels. However, I do love lobster, crab, shrimp, scallops,
and certain types of fish (ones that aren't too "fishy" tasting). I will
try almost anything once though so when Ross kept raving about the smokiesfrom Arbroath, I was curious to see what the fuss was all about.
First, a little history! Arbroath is on the North Sea Coast of Scotland, about 16 miles east of Dundee and 45 miles south of Aberdeen.
In 1839 a new harbour was built and became one of the larger fishing
ports in Scotland by the 20th century. The fishing industry grew,
however, from the 1980s onwards quota cuts and decommissioning affected
the industry throughout Scotland. Today, the fish processing sector is
still one of the largest employers in Arbroath, however, fish for
processing now comes from other areas such as Aberdeen, Norway, and
Ireland.1
Arbroath Harbour
Arbroath is most famous for its smokies,
which was first created in the village of Auchmithie. Line-caught
haddock from the North Sea is gutted and head removed, then salted
before being tied up in pairs and hung on rods to dry. Once they are
dry, the haddock is smoked over beach or oak hard wood. Arbroath was
awarded a Protected Geographical Indication in 2004, which means the smokie
can only be called such if it is produced within 4km of Arbroath.
Today, family-owned and run smokehouses still fill the town with its
delicious smokie aromas with recurring surnames like Spink, Cargill, Swankie, and Smith claiming their smokies as the best.1,2,3
Looking out onto the North Sea
We drove from Ross' hometown of Leven, which is just north of Edinburgh,
and it took us a little over an hour to get to the little coastal town
of Arbroath. We found a spot to park at the harbour and went for a walk
around the Fit o' the Toon, the area of land given to attract fishermen to Arbroath in the 1800s.2 You could immediately smell the delicious smokie air and we'd arrived around lunch time so I was ready to feast!
M&M Spink looking out onto the harbour
We came across M&M Spink's,
a small family-run business founded by William (Bill) Spink in 1965,
who continues his family's tradition that began in Auchmithie.3The
smokehouse overlooks the harbour with its modest yet inviting entrance
located at 10 Marketgate. It felt like we were walking into someone's
backyard and they just happened to have a lot of smoked fish hanging
around. They had also just gotten back from sea so there were crates of
fresh fish ready to be gutted and beheaded. They let us into the back
where the magic happens - there were batches of fish being dried whilst
others were about to go into the smoker. It all smelled so good, I had
to refrain myself from grabbing a fish and eating it right then and
there. Ross and I finally decided on getting haddock and salmon and the
lady who was taking care of our orders said she'd just made fresh fish
cakes so we told her to throw a couple into the bag as well. We made our
purchase, thanked them, and off we went to find a place to eat our smokies.
M&M Spink at 10 Marketgate (left)
We found a place overlooking the sea on King's Drive next to Victoria Park where we indulged in the smokies.
You could taste the fresh smokey-ness in each bite that melted in your
mouth. Both were so delicious, however, I think I prefer the salmon just
a little more than the haddock. We ate with our fingers and didn't even
need side dishes because one each of the haddock and salmon was enough
to fill both Ross and I up. We saved the fish cakes for breakfast
the following day and boy, were they yummy! I'm not really one to have
seafood for breakfast but I'd have an Arbroath smokie fish cake any day.
M&M Spink's smoked salmon
M&M Spink's smokie
The fish were delicious but what I found the most interesting was Arbroath's history behind the smokie.
There are so many huge companies taking over and taking small
businesses out so seeing the family-run smokehouses still practicing
years of tradition was really cool. Though the town is not bustling like
it was many years ago, I'm glad that people still make it a point to
travel to Arbroath just for the smokie. I would definitely recommend a visit to Arbroath, if not for its smokie, then for its history.
Everyone has a bucket list or at least can come up with a few things they would absolutely want to experience within their lifetime. Thought I'd share a few things that I've been so fortunate to be able to tick off my list.
Fly Like a Bird (2008)
I was flying before I could walk so riding in airplanes has been the norm for as long as I can remember. I think my interest in riding in a chopper developed when I'd listen to my dad's stories about his survival courses and jumping out of helicopters when I was a kid. Never really thought I'd get the chance to ride in a helicopter until I joined Eurocopter (now Airbus Helicopters) a year out of university. I got to go an EC130 (now H130) - a lightweight single-engine rotorcraft - and got to see the city and Manila Bay from a bird's eye view. Really different experience from flying in a jumbo jet because you're able to see so much more of the land and sea beneath you. What a great experience! (Unfortunately I don't have any photos of me in the EC130, but here are some photos from an exhibit we did while I was working for Eurocopter)
Be a Tomb Raider (2010) Angkor Wat in Siem Reap, Cambodia is the largest religious monument in the world. I'd read about it in school and was fascinated by the photographs and its history. This amazing piece of architecture was built in the 12th century; if you've ever visited Angkor then you'll appreciate just how talented the builders were in the beautiful intricacies of its design, and all of it done without modern day technology. The famous Ta Prohm is the temple within the Angkor Wat complex where the trees and jungle have grown out of its ruins. It's mesmerising to see the interaction between nature and man. So glad I can check this off my list.
Witness the Fairies (2015)
The foot of the Black Cuillins on the Isle of Skye is where you'll find the Fairy Pools. I had first read about the Fairy Pools from an article online - way before I'd met my Scotsman - and was immediately enamoured by the enchanting beauty of the crystal clear natural pools and waterfalls. Ross and I visited the Pools during our Scotland trip in January. It was our last day on Skye and the Fairy Pools were our final stop before continuing the drive home. I was suffering from a horrendous hangover from one too many drams the night before but as soon as I got my hike on and saw Mother's Nature's amazing creation, I felt awesome. The freezing cold temperatures also probably helped to alleviate the pounding in my head. Because it was that - COLD - and we didn't have any wet suits with us, we didn't get to jump in. So I'm definitely going back next time (most likely in the summer!) and making sure I've packed the right gear and jumping in!
I have quite the international background and am proud of it. My father is American from Kansas City, Missouri, and my mother is Filipino, originally from Iloilo but moved to Manila when she was still a toddler. If growing up in a bi-racial household isn't international enough, I've also lived in several cities and attended international schools in each of them. I was born in the Philippines, moved to Miri, Malaysia when I was 5 years old, then to Singapore when I was 8. In 1994 we moved back to the Philippines, and after graduating from high school I moved to New Jersey for a year, then to Boston, MA. I moved back to Manila when I was 22, then back to Singapore in 2012, and just recently moved back to Manila again in February of this year. Whew - quite a mouthful! I am a dual citizen and speak three languages and can get by with a couple more. I am definitely what you call a Third Culture Kid.
I believe myself to be lucky with all the moving and traveling I've been doing from a young age, on top of being a mixed race person. I've also been fortunate to have been able to grow up and become friends with people with similar backgrounds and lifestyles. For the most part it never really occurred to me that I was "different" because we were all "different" together. It's funny when people try to decipher where I'm from and kinda cool when I travel and the locals think I'm from their country. More often than not, my conversations with people whom I just met will become a funny story to tell later. One time I was getting my nails done at a nail salon in Boston owned by a Vietnamese family - the manicurist said I was "too white" to be Filipino. Another time during a trip to Vietnam, a local insisted I was - and I kid you not - half Vietnamese, half Ukrainian. Always interesting to see what people have to say!
However, my situation has also left me still seeking the feeling of "belonging". For example, I'm not American enough to my American family and not Filipino enough on my Filipino side. I was born in Manila and cumulatively have lived in the Philippines the longest but I still can't help but feel like I don't completely belong. In all the other places I've lived, I was obviously a foreigner or expat but in my birthplace I'm still labeled foreign. I just can't quite fit in. I'm comfortable with being a "stranger" but as I get older, I'd like to find a place where I am content. Every time I travel, I'm always subconsciously thinking if I've finally found that place. There are a few places I absolutely love but only time will tell if one them will be home, or if I'll even ever find it.
How does it feel to have been born and raised in the same place and know where home is? That is a question I'll never be able to answer and it will always leave me curious. Do I wish I had grown up differently? Definitely not. But what I do hope is that some day I will be able to find somewhere that I can finally call my HOME. Though I will not look nor speak the same as the locals, I hope to find somewhere I belong. For now at least, I have a gypsy soul.
