Letter to JMC

Hola mi quierido JM!

I haven’t written a letter to you in such a long time, and I figure that now is the perfect opportunity to write to you, given the 30-letter challenge and the fact that your birthday and mine just passed, marking 3 years since we got together in Mannheim!

Thinking back on the past three years (wow! 3 whole years, that’s almost or maybe more than 1000 days!), I guess we can say we’ve been through quite a lot together. From meeting you as my housemate in Germany as we both were on exchange in Uni Mannheim, to complaining to F about your and Fer cooking too much chicken and how the entire apartment would fill up with the aroma of chicken, perfect if you’re having dinner but not so if you’re in pyjamas ready to hit the bed! I remember the first time F told me that there were 2 Argentines in our VG, I wondered to myself what on earth Argentines look like. (Sorry I had no idea then, I just knew Argentina was very very far away).

Then I remember bumping into you in the kitchen when you would be preparing some breakfast of cereal and milk (or maybe something else with orange juice, or dulce de leche) and we would just chat, not too long, maybe just 5 minutes, but it always felt like we connected in a way. The next memory I have of you is the queue for Oktoberfest tickets, and how I arrived with Crystal, Jingying and some others at 6+am, to find you and Fer camped out right at the front of the queue. Someone even took a photo of you both sleeping on the ground in the cold winter morning. It was hilarious – and I thought to myself – “Gawd! these are my housemates!!” Honestly I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

Then one day in the kitchen – I can’t remember who started the conversation – but we started talking about travel plans, and I mentioned that I was headed to Barcelona the following week, and you said “So am I!” Turned out that we were both flying on the same airlines, just one day apart. The last day in Barcelona, we flew back on the same plane, and bumped into each other with our respective group of friends just outside a shopping mall. I also remember how you told me you were amazed I didnt know how to greet people with kisses, and how I would only hug instead of making the sound of a kiss in the air. These encounters seem a little silly but somehow they always remind me of Mannheim and how we first met.

We got together sometime between your birthday and mine, and while it was crazy, knowing that I would probably not see you after we both went back to our home countries when the semester ended, I somehow thought to myself that I had to give us a chance. So during that december month of 2007, we travelled, we went to Heidelberg, Dresden and Paris, and we grew much closer. I started realizing the person you were – your depth and your understanding of life that made you want to take chances for something that was worth it because you understood the shortness of life and how important it was to appreciate and grab opportunies presented to us.

The last few days of December (particularly prior to our New Years’ trip to Paris) were unbearably tough. As the ticking clock started sounding louder to the end of the year and to the close of exchange, I felt my heart breaking as I realized it might be very possible that I may not ever see you again. I went to Paris heavy hearted, while at the same time also feeling so lucky to be able to spend New Year’s with you, in the city whose name is synonymous with “romance”. We parted in that horrible bus station in Paris, and I was crying buckets, as you waved goodbye from outside the coach, hands in your ski jacket.

Arriving back in SG, I read your emails from different parts of Europe, and we would rush to schedule timings to skype, because it felt so empty without talking to each other. When you told me you thought it was worth it to try to continue with a long-distance relationship, I was so happy I almost cried. That April of 2008, I took my flight flight to South America, Argentina, where I would spend the next two months as a graudation trip. I enjoyed myself so much, with your family and friends, that when it was time to leave, I felt so upset, and wished I could stay for another 2 more months.

Back home, I started work with SCB when my IG program started. During the last 2 years since then, we both travelled to and fro Singapore and Buenos Aires, but finally decided at the end of last year that we should both stay in the same country, we agreed in the end I would go over.

This year, two years after the first April that I arrived in Buenos Aires, I took the Malaysian Airlines flight via KL, Cape Town and Johannesburg, and stepped foot here, where I’ve been for the last 7 months.

Thank you for your love, patience, understanding and care every single day, even on days that you are busy, and when things may not be going so well for you. Thank you for surprising me with a rose on the first day of Spring, for lying to me that you were going to do something else when you were actually preparing breakfast for me, and thank you for always thinking about how I would feel.

Te amo, y beso grande,
Tu Cuquito.

The little things that make me happy (2)

1. Listening to Pheonix on grooveshark to relax after a busy morning of cramming reports into my head
2. Knowing that Spring is here and the sun shines a minute more each day
3. Waiting for the long weekend and looking forward to taking a break in Rosario, the first holiday since I started work again
4. Reading a mail from my friend asking me to be her bridesmaid, and even though I know I most probably can’t, it still made me smile
5. The Korean instant noodles waiting in the bag SY gave me, SOS help whenever I miss Asian food and want to be reminded of home sweet home
6. Receiving a lovely SMS from my aunt telling me she misses me, and hopes things are well
7. Biking down Libertador Avenue all the way to Retiro, seeing Buenos Aires in a different way
8. Chatting on skype with my best friends in the world, no matter how far away they are
9. Discount shopping, which gives me greater purchasing power
10. Picking up the phone to call my family, or a friend, and breaking into a smile when I hear their familiar voices and translated smiles
11. Thinking about CNY back home, eating homemade pineapple tarts brought by my mum
12. Cooking Chinese food– yes, it is actually therapeutic, and the smell of chicken rice steaming in the rick cooker almost makes me believe I am back in Singapore
13. Spanish classes with Veronica, one of the nicest and sincerest Argentines I have met since arriving 6 months ago
14. Arriving at work and having my morning chat with colleagues, before starting a relatively peaceful day
15. Reading reports on Singapore and feeling I know much more about my homeland now than ever before
16. Discussing holiday plans, and the arrival of a cousin’s birth
17. Writing, about anything in particular. It is my theraphy.

So many little things that make me happy. Life is good : )

Friendship…. you find it in the weirdest corners

A long time ago, I used to think that as you grow older, and graduate from student to working adult, your pool of friends can only start to diminish, until is turns from a large ripple into a almost invisible drop of water.

But I realized that friendship is an incredibly amazing phenomenon – you find it when you least expect it; and you never know with whom you’re going to develop a friendship that defies time, distance and cultural differences. I’m a pretty sociable person, but I don’t get out and party too much – in order words, I make friends when doing the most normal things (like attending Spanish classes, at work, or simply by the rare opportunity of chance).

I’ve lived a pretty international life in the last 3 years, and following that lifestyle of travelling because of work, vacation and simply school, I’ve met people who inspire, have passion for things that you might never have imagined, and people who are really just rare jewels of kindness, goodness and love. In SCB, when we travelled to Chennai, India, for our 3-week long rotation, I got to know Feyi really well, despite her being my first African friend from Nigeria; despite the fact that I used to think blacks look fierce and a little too aggressive for my liking; and despite the fact that we rarely kept in touch before that. The last time I saw her was almost a year ago, but the beautiful character that she has made me always remember the strength of a person who had the courage to admit her mistakes and accept that she had done wrong; that she dared to ask for forgiveness, and know what was important to her. I admire her motivation and faith in wanting to be Nigeria’s next finance minister – an extremely ambitious ideal for any person just starting out. I appreciated her absolutely honest sincerity that made me slightly startled at the raw intensity of it all. But it was true, that in India, a place which left so many memories and invoked so many emotions, I found a true friend.

At work in SCB, back home in Singapore, I also made friends over time, with random people – colleagues on the floor, the secretaries and generally anyone who made the effort to chat for those few more minutes outside of work. There are some people that I really appreciate for making the first few months in a completely new office so much easier, and because of that, I am always grateful. From them I learnt the most important rules to stick by in the game of office politics, but also that work mates can be fun to hang out with; that it was crucial in whom you place your trust and confidence, because there were so many others who are ready to backstab you the minute they require to.

Then I came to Argentina and lo and behold, never did I expect to see another Singaporean so soon after leaving my homeland! Jace was here for the first month I was here – working of course, but we met up a couple of times and still keep in contact once in a while. And then SY, who I met because of our mutual friend – who has interesting ideas and a pretty crazy life – who I probably would not have met if we both remained in Singapore – and who constantly amazes me! She defies many social norms and expectations of Singapore lawyers, and it is refreshing while also quite hard to believe.

But of course, the friends that you’ve had since a thousand years ago and still keep in close contact are a rarity that always make me smile. I remember going for Mrs Chua’s tuition classes on Saturdays when I was in primary school; but first going to JH’s house for a yummilicious bee hoon lunch with her granny’s famous chilli. It was from those routine saturdays that we developed our friendship, which later led to yearly sleepovers (where we had to set the alarm at 12 am to have our midnight feast), then pen pal letters as we changed schools, but over time and difference in schools, we always stayed close, even though, I in Argentina, and she in Singapore, but going to London for her law exchange in just 2 days!

And Syl, who really helped me through a thousand things – crying in the middle of the night, driving over to see if I was ok, dinner at Pasta Fresca, shopping on random occasions, late night chats on the phone, and sleepovers. SMU was largely made up of the girls – and syl was one of those that really defined SMU life. Then there is Suzy, who by chance I met at Sports Camp in Uni year one, but only 2 years later got to know her better after our internship at Bloomberg. We don’t talk so often but when we do it’s always such a wonderful thing – and I can’t wait to see her little girl when she arrives! And Joyceee, who is going to get married next year – it’s amazing to see their lives bloom like that; some people are extraordinary and you know it’s such an honour to be part of their evolution.

There are also so many more that I have yet to write about, but it doesn’t mean their friendship isn’t worth mentioning. There are too many who have touched and impacted my lives, in littles ways and then big ones too. But most importantly I know at last that my hypothesis is no longer valid.

Your circle of friends will only get wider and wider – but that also depends on you.

Spanish classes with Debora & Villa 31

Today was the second day of my Spanish classes – two hours per day, supposedly group lessons. However, because I’m the only person at my current level (Advanced C1), these group classes have shrunk and are now one-to-one classes. I’m not complaining – I’m paying the same ridiculously cheap group class rate (29 pesos/hour) for more intensive private tuition. The only thing that I feel slightly disappointed about is that I was really looking forward to making new friends with other foreignors in my Spanish group course – like the great friends that I made in Las Lilas in Singapore. Other than that however, I really like my classes so far.

The best part of the classes are the conversations that I have with my professor, Debora. We spend quite alot of time conversing only in Spanish – which is perfect because she can understand some English words so if I need to explain something too technical she helps me to translate it into Spanish, but other than that she doesn’t speak to me in English AT ALL. It’s great because I’ve realized when I was taking German classes in Mannheim that that is almost the best way to learn a completely new language; being forced to express and understand completely in the foreign language is the most accelerated manner of learning. So I’m really glad for that – I think I will be really fluent in a few weeks, not to kiss my own ass, but I really think so.

Today, we had a conversation for 1.5 hours before starting with grammar, but oh how much I learnt in those 90 minutes! We started talking about my day, but then later we somehow digressed and proceeded to talking about the slums (also known as shanty towns) in Argentina, called “Villas” – derived from the word “villages”- which is a paradox since the same word in English means nice grand house where the rich people stay in! The most peculiar thing about some of the slums in buenos aires are that they are situated next to some of the richest neighbourhoods in this Porteno city. For example “Villa 31″, proably the biggest slum in Buenos Aires, is situated across the railway tracks from Puerto Madero, which for me is one of my favourite places in the city. From Sheraton Hotel just across the Microcentro (the central business district if you may), you can see the shanty towns, a combination of houses made up of tin, clay and other scrap materials; a weird neighbourhood lacking in any proper street signage or infrastructure, without much electricity or safety. Apparently, 10-15 years ago, the area currently occupied by Villa 31 was worthless; the land on which those little houses sat was of no value to anyone, and since Puerto Madero had not yet been properly constructed and created to be such a beautiful place, the government didn’t give two dimes about who wanted to build a little tin house on that piece of land.

Now however, the tables have turned. With Puerto Madero being such an attractive tourist destination and place to relax and enjoy, the current Kirchner government wishes to reclaim the land on which Villa 31 sits. It wants to shift the entire shanty town to a place out of sight, out of mind, as far away as possible. The government doesn’t really care much for the poor; there are too many of them for the government to do very much; or maybe the government just would rather spend its money elsewhere more productive. The funny thing however is, from my knowledge, that it is the votes of the poor that helped the current government to be where they are today. However, excuse my limited political knowledge if you find this statement inaccurate or politically incorrect.

Debora did tell me however that there is currently quite a good project that the Kirchner government has executed thus far, to its credit, it has implemented a plan which tries to keep poor children off the streets (away from drugs, delinquency, robberies, and other crimes in general) by incentivizing their parents to enroll them into school, which is free up to a certain educational level. Parents, regardless of income level (I believe) are able to claim 200 pesos per child per month from the government as long as a current certificate of enrollment into a school is produced. This is quite a brilliant idea to me, as while education may not be the only way to keep kids out of crime and to give them a good future, it certainly is the most important and efficient methods to give them an understanding of the potential they can have; and it allows them a path to greater financial freedom. Parents with many mouths to feed (especially if they are poor) may find it hard to understand and see so much into the long term, particularly if they would rather see the benefits of their children working from a young age to ease the financial burden.

This is the part of Buenos Aires life that you get exposed to briefly when you see children lying on the subway platforms and their mothers begging for money; the man on the subway or the bus giving a speech about his unfortunate situation; or the youths that knock on your car window when you stop at a traffic light, demanding money in exchange for cleaning your windscreen. But, as a tourist, as a visitor, they are but another part of the city; you don’t actually realize or understand the lives that the slum-swellers suffer not because they don’t want to work; but because of the economic situation in their home towns in other smaller provinces that forced them to the capital to find jobs; but even with those meagre salaries, they have to live in badly constructed houses without any job security and without a tangibly potential career that most teenagers take for granted.

I’m just starting to understand and comprehend this city that I’m living in; so many many other things that I have yet to come across; so few that I can surely say I understand enough to explain. But thank god for spanish lessons; they come in quite handy to understanding this city. More updates another time. Maybe next time I will write about the many Chinese that are living in Argentina and their Chinese supermarkets (supermercados Chinos). But I’ll save that for another time.

Provincia de Buenos Aires (San Isidro)

No football, no parties and no cafes this past weekend, but what an extremely gorgeous day we spent at Provincia de Buenos Aires, in San Isidro, just chilling next to Rio de la Plata (River Plata) alfresco on a rooftop restaurant, overlooking the windsurfers riding on the river waves and watching young children and dogs playing on the fresh green lawn below.

The outskirts north of Buenos Aires (just outside of Capital Federal) bring you along a changing landscape of less busy neighbourhoods that border the main part of the capital and eventually lead you to an extremely residential part of Buenos Aires that tourists rarely get the chance to see. As the leaves start their annual colour changing into a very pretty yellow that also reminds you autumn is here and winter will soon arrive, and as the maple leaf-lined streets lead you as you drive through the neighbourhoods, you gather a sense of contentment and peace. Ah, Sundays like this should be everyday. Or maybe everyday should just be a Sunday.

On the pavements, people are cycling, little ones and largers ones, a family all in tow, couples walking hand in hand, old ones and young ones too, and as you drive on by the rustling of the autumn leaves trail behind, swishing and dancing about in tiny circles. Houses are large and big, with gardens blooming with colourful flowers which will soon fall and welcome the entrance of winter. I stare out of the car window, mostly in awe and in complete tranquility, to be away from the havoc mess of city life, to be near a calmness that can only come with distance from crowds and heavy congestion.

We had lunch on the rooftop of a small club in San Isidro (I think it was called Molinos) and sitting alfresco with a view of the people windsurfing or just spread out on the lawn below playing with dogs and little children, it was such bliss. The wind in our hair, a great recommendation by the waiter which is a cut of the cow called “Vacio”, amazing rocket salad with parmesan cheese, provuleta cheese in a hot pan with tomatoes and a sprinkling of dried oregano, and a perfect dessert to top off the meal – pancakes filled with dulce de leche (a type of condensed milk whose name literally means “sweetness of milk”) dressed with warm chocolate sauce and dash of icing powder. Ah, what a perfect day.

To digest and enjoy the day before the sun set, we walked around the neighbourhood and stumbled upon an Antiques Fair that is there every weekend and public holidays, regardless of the rain, and my oh my, what an interesting experience! It wasn’t the first time I had been to a fair like this – I went to the one at San Telmo a couple of times before, but this time I took pictures of the things that were on sale – you will be surprised and amazed at the sort of stuff that were available! There were crystal glasses, old watches, record players, old and disgusting sofas that looked cat-bitten, wooden tennis rackets, radios from the past that were still able to play, tiny football figurines, glass coke bottles (still full of coke!), a chinese family portrait (my newly found Chinese family!), tin cans going for 25 argentine pesos (ridiculous!), old song records, and even a broken fussball set! How amazing is that?!!

Tremendously fun day out with Juan and his parents. We proceeded to watch Synecdoche, New York, an extremely intriguing show that I will not proceed to elaborate on. I would recommend it for those interested in cinematic art and a twist to the normal commercial productions that generally appeal to the masses. Click on this link for a sypnosis on the movie by Wikipedia.

That was all for my weekend… Hasta luego y Buena Semana! (Till then and have a great week!)

Bus rides are a favorite of mine

Yesterday, I took the public bus here, called “colectivo” or “bondi” in lumfardo (the language made up of words unique to and spoken only by Portenos of Buenos Aires). It was such a delightful treat! I must explain why.

I’ve take buses all my life in Singapore, and almost all the buses in the last few years have been air conditioning installed. There was a period of a couple of years where mobile tv absorbed the attention of bus passengers, a small box usually installed at the left side of the SBS bus for passengers to catch up on CNA news, Just for Laughs jokes and other local shows. Buses usually get crowded during peak hours, as more and more foreignor pack our tiny island nation, particularly blue-collar workers from Asia. So naturally, public transport would be the preferred mode of transportation for them. On any bus ride home, you get to observe at close range the different people that made up the place you live in, and how as the neighbourhoods and districts change with the intertwining bus routes, the passengers getting on and alighting the buses also radically change. You have the chance to feel the heartland vibes, the city vibes, check out the latest fashion trends, and simply just look at the faces that pass you by.

This people-watching activity is of course not limited to bus rides around the Singapore city town. I’ve taken buses in Jakarta as well, and certainly it is a different experience from taking a taxi or being chauffeured around by a friend’s driver. You see the locals and they see you, both parties taking in the different dressing and mannerisms of the other, a fascination that is difficult to mask. I’ve taken buses in Hong Kong, where the double deckers are so distinctly Hong Kong; the view from the top takes you above that you can get from the ground; you get to take in the millions of people milling around on the streets, the congestion of the roads, and the almost identical shop signages in all neon colours imaginable. I love bus rides – they show you so much of the city or country you’re in.

The only buses that honestly intimidate me are the Indian buses. When I was travelling about India, I would stare out of my taxi window, open-mouthed and in absolute wonder, at the buses which were crammed full of people, just like sardines, and how the locals would hang off the buses just so they could get on it. How anyone would be able to get off the bus once they got on it always beats me. Like the rest of India, which fascinates me and astounds me simultaneously (check out the “India” category on this page), the buses of India leave me at a loss for words.

Coming back to where I currently live, Buenos Aires, Argentina, I must explain why the buses here are so different from what I am used to. In Singapore, the SBS buses are all painted in uniform red and white with the Singapore Bus Services logo printed on them; and while there are advertisements on them, they more of less still look like they are wearing school uniforms. Here, the buses have the large numbers in bold black font on one corner of the front – large and in your face. Having been used to the cashless EZ-link system (in which you just scan your EZ link card on a reader and it deducts the amount you need to pay) implemented in buses and MRT stations in Singapore for at least the last 5 years, I was at a loss the first time I came up the buses here and realized that the only way you could pay for your fare was using coins! What if you didn’t have coins then? Wouldn’t you run out of coins so fast if you have to dig around for slightly more than 1 peso each time you board a bus? I realized also that people here periodically go to the bank to change notes for coins – exactly the opposite of what we do in Singapore, where we just want to get rid of our coins for the much lighter and convenient notes.

Singapore, being such as safe and low-crime country, had made me take for granted all my life that I could walk around with my bag open, holding my wallet in hand, showing off my camera, ipod, and other valuables which I might be carrying around with me. Here, the first thing Susana warns me about is to always keep my bag in front of me and to clutch it tightly, with the zip in full view. Never never hold money or your wallet in your hand; and be careful if you’re using your handphone. Thieves and pickpockets are aplenty on the buses, and all around; so be extra careful especially if you’re not a local. So this was my mentality. I grabbed my bag tightly to myself, as I sat on the bus, surveying the environment for any weirdly-behaving pickpockets. But other than that, as I took bus number 152 along Avenida Santa Fe all the way to the microcenter – basically the Baires version of our Central Business District – I was enjoying the ride all the way. I loved staring outside the windows, at the shop-lined streets greeting me with beckoning sale signs. I loved how groups of teenagers would stand in their tights and boots next to old little grannies with their thick coats and very aunty sling handbags. I loved the contrast. And most importantly, I loved the fact that the bus was rocketing with Reggaeton! But I dídn’t love so much the fact that I had to run in my heels for the bus, and hop on to it just in time as the driver pulled away from the bus stop. I didnt enjoy that the driver was so incredibly grouchy it wouldnt have made a difference if you put a bittergourd to replace his face.

But overall, I really liked my first solo bus ride – I didn’t feel like such a foreignor anymore. I felt like I was finally blending in. I could speak the language, I could recognize the streets, I could communicate, and I could travel around on my own! One of many firsts, I’m sure. I am happy again, despite this dreadful cough that kept me in bed for virtually the whole day. Yes, I am happy.

Espanol in progress!

Called the director of a Spanish school whose professor I learnt with when I was here 2 years ago, and more of less have arranged to start spanish classes next week. Daily lessons of 2 hours each day from Monday to Friday.. Apparently I am at level Advanced C1 – sounds pretty impressive eh… I hope I learn much faster with these intensive daily lessons.

Its the second week here and ….. its really awesome so far. Juan’s family is so wonderful; especially his mum who knows I must be bored staying at home the whole day she invites me out to tea, and shopping with her and offers so willingly to show me around the city. But after being so used to waking up at 6.40am for work all the way till the evening, not having anything to do is fine and fun for the first one or two weeks, then it starts to feel like I’m not productive, and at times this feeling irks me.

So, now that I’m about to start Spanish classes, at least I feel more of a sense of purpose. One other reason why spanish classes excite me is also because I get to meet new people – other foreignors like me who are also grappling with expressing with this new language, which though gets easier each day, is still a huge limitation for me to express what I feel and want to say.

But Yay! Soon things will be different. At least, I will be able to get around more easily and feel like I’m really living here, and not just as a tourist anymore! : ) Now i will attempt to cook scrambled eggs (or eggs of some sort – I am quite a egg-fanatic) for breakfast. Yum yum yum!! Buen appetito!

Futbol, fiestas y cafes

3 words to describe my weeked: Football, parties & cafes.

This is mainly what makes up life in Argentina as well. The culture here is strongly rooted in football matches, a passion developed in kids as young as 2 years old and accompanies old men all the way till they die. Football (what North Americans call soccer) is inseparable from the lives of Argentines, whether they are players or just spectators. The rivalries of football teams here have been cultivated from pages of history, lost in a cove of different neighbourhood loyalties and family stories. If you’ve ever been to a match between two large and popular teams in Argentina, you probably will understand how intense the rivalries and competition is – I went to a match between River Plate and Boca Juniors in June 2008 and my goodness, the entire River stadium was roaring with cheers for and against each of the teams – these two teams have been at loggerheads with each other for as long as history can remember, and during that match, fights broke out; the cold air was rife with tension and for me, a neutral spectator, it was such a treat. You have to understand that I never see this in Singapore; so when River emerged champion that night, the streets were alive with red and white streamers; buses were bobbing up and down from River fans jumping in them, and you could see Boca fans in their blues and yellows looking mighty blue.

Naturally, in a country like Argentina world renowned for its red meat and red wine, where the people love having a good time and enjoying themselves, parties are synonymous with Argentines. The party culture here is amazing – old and young alike enjoy throwing and attending parties, dressed to the nines in their beautiful clothes and always look like they just walked out of a page in a magazine. Younger people go for pre-drinks at their friends’ houses at 12-ish or 1-ish in the morning, hit the clubs at 3-4am and then party all the way till sunrise at 7 or 8am. This is even more pronounced in the countryside towns, where the earlier you appear at a club, the more un-cool you appear. In Singapore, queues form outside clubs like Zouk/ Butter factory as early as 10 pm, and by 4 am everyone is pretty bushed out and ready to hit their beds. So the difference is HUGE.

Buenos Aires, known internationally as the Paris of South America because of its European heritage and architecture, is full of bars and street-side cafes. Some parts of this porteno city are so alike to Paris because of the old little cafes by the corners, or in small alleys where you least expect to find a prettily-decorated place for you to take your afternoon tea admist the hype of the day. Walk into any cafe and you will notice this cafe culture is strong not just among old men and ladies with nothing else to do but read the newpapers as they have their crossaints with butter, dulce de leche or marmalade; you will also realize that young kids are their with their parents, or executives in suits are having an expresson, as they relax from the buzz of work and city life.

Just three aspects of Buenos Aires, but they sum the city up pretty well.

My microwave rice-cooker wonder

Hola a todos! (Hello to all)

Yesterday I embarked on my first adventure to cook a Chinese meal for Juan’s family (with Susana’s help of course, and with the exception of Juan Carlos who was out having dinner with a friend). And….I am mighty pleased to say that the results were way better than I expected!

I started with the making rice – I can’t believe how easy it is to cook my almost favourite staple! Just wash and dry the rice, put it in the rice cooker with slightly more than the same amount of water, and then pop it into the microwave, and viola! Rice in less than 15 minutes! AMAZING LIFE SAVING DEVICE!

So, with the rice settled, we started cooking the dishes, starting with beef and onions – a nice sweetly-onion flavoured dish with diced bife de lomo. Second dish on the menu was chicken, cut into small pieces, sauteed with salt and soya sauce. But the best dish of all was the Kai Lan, which was first blanched in hot water (letting the stalks cook a little longer than then leaves) and then stir-fried together with a garnishing of garlic, onions and yummy sliced mushrooms, and the magic ingredient – oyster sauce!! That panda brand oyster-flavoured sauce did the trick I suppose – it was the most well received dish among the boys and Susana! And they even had 2 helpings of rice each – beyond my wildest imagination!

It was sort of a Argentine-Chinese cuisine mix – una mezcla de dos culturas! I still have some rice leftover – didnt realize that 3.5 cups of rice could feed up to 5-6 people! So i guess it’s going to be used for fried rice one of these days, and more Kai Lan! Am awfully pleased that the first batch of rice turned out better than expected – maybe slightly too sticky for their liking, but for me was perfect. I didnt realize how much I was missing rice until I ate it!

The only problem with Chinese cooking is that to create a whole meal, so much work is involved – cutting and peeling the onions & garlic – whose smells scare off everyone including vampires, and the amount of washing up that needs to be done after using all the many dishes! Regardless, now that the first experiment was quite a delight, I’m going to try to be more adventurous and try other Asian dishes. So amazing how the right ingredients certainly create a whole new culinary experience! Most importantly, Susana said, that when you cook, you cannot be afraid your dish isnt going to turn out well – you must have confidence with using the ingredients, stirring the dish cooking in the pot, and of course, sprinkle a large dash of love.

Alright, am going to eat something for breakfast in a bit – just wanted to jot this down before I busy myself with a bunch other other thing, and to bring back news from the Latam continent! Hasta luego!!

Excursion to the Asian Supermarket in Barrio Chino!

Today I did a couple of things, spending most of the day with Susana.

In the morning, we went to get my insurance settled; in less than 15 minutes the process was completed and we were out of OSDE. We hit Manchini in Alto Palermo to source for a birthday present for Juan carlos.

The highlight was in the afternoon however – we went to Chinatown to buy a couple of chinese ingredients, and walking around those 3 blocks with Chinese lettering on the shopfront windows, and seeing Asian faces, I felt half at home and half foreignor. Yet what a delight it was to walk into an Asian supermarket teeming with sacks of rice, noodles, soya sauces, chilli pastes, Lee Kum Kee condiments, and instant noodles! You can’t imagine the delight that blanketed me as my eyes opened in excitement upon taking in the wonder of realizing that yes, at least these items were still available, though I was thousands of miles and seven seas away from home. Yet, I was lost. Having not been domesticated while living in Singapore – I can only cook to survive, not to please tastebuds – I was at a lost of what to buy for whipping up some Chinese dishes to impress Juan’s family.

Susana and I ended up getting rice, oyster sauce, chilli paste, kai lan, mushrooms that was about it. It’s incredible how ingredients confound me more than a store full of clothes. I saw vegetables and foodstuffs like Want Want biscuits which I grew up eating; but looking at them now, I wouldn’t die if I didnt get to eat them. It was quite embarrasing to admit that I didnt really know how to cook and hence couldn’t really offer advice regarding which was Thai Basil or how best to cook a particular vegetable.

I was however quite surprised at the number of Argentines who were shopping at the Asian supermarket! I certainly didnt expect to see quite so many there, nor did I realize the huge interest they had in Asian cuisine. It was quite a pleasure to witness it.

Now that I’m living away from my family and will have to cook for myself soon, I better go research on Asian recipes. It’s really quite embarrassing that I can’t cook, and worse of all, have to admit it. at least with western food I can say that I am Chinese and can’t cook western. But what excuse do I have for Chinese cuisine!

Oh dear oh dear!