cheese in china.

After about a month in China, I had the chance to attend a UW alumni reception with some other expatriate Beijingers. After the cocktails and hors d'oeuvres, and a short video from the Honorary David Johnston, then - UW President but now - Governor-General of Canada, we stumbled through a quaint alleyway named 南锣鼓巷 [nánluógǔxiàng]. It was then that a native Beijinger and fellow UW alumnus pointed out the place to go for homemade "yogurt". I made a mental note to go back - it only took about a year and 4 months, but I finally made it. 

friends forever.

Thanks A :)

A couple weeks ago, I got the nicest card in the mail from a very dear friend - which just goes to show, that no matter how far you are, friendship doesn't really have any limits.

Seeing this card, it instantly reminded me of a place I had gone with another friend to catch up and hang out. A friend who, for the past three years, has managed to live within hours of me. Whether it was London-Paris or Tianjin-Beijing, I can always count on him to make the short trip to come visit!

So just where did we go? What more ideal place can there be, than the Friends Café in Beijing.

migrating from meizhou.

From Beijing to Shenzhen, a 3-hour flight.
From Shenzhen to Meizhou, a 6-hour bus ride.

As Hakka people, we have a tendency to migrate around, in a way, like nomads (or as my friend I had once said, yous a bunch of gypsies!), hence my family's move to Canada from India, and before that, the move to India from China. As a matter of fact, the Chinese characters for Hakka, 客家 [kèjiā], literally translates to "guest family", always being on the move is practically our innate nature!

So it's no surprise that every three years, like clockwork, my grandparents decide that Canada is too cold and take a getaway trip out to their native village of 梅州 [Méizhōu]. Last year I was fortunate enough to coincidentally be "in the neighbourhood"   -  and thus the chance of getting acquainted with another notch up in my family's history.

kaleidoscopic kolkata.

As we got to the city of Kolkata (previously Calcutta), also the last stop on our India trip, I felt a little blue... but also a little relieved - almost four weeks of taking malaria pills daily were starting to take its toll, and I did not feel good. But I trucked on, wanting to experience as much of my mother's hometown as I did my father's.

We had actually revolved our entire trip around the visit to Tangra, aka the Chinatown of India or, the pocket of Kolkata where you can find most of India's Chinese-descendents. Timing our trip was key, in order to be in the perfect place to celebrate Chinese New Year.

tentative trips.

While researching a bit before my trip to India, I stumbled upon this website. This blogger had the exact same ideas and mindset that I did when I watched this film, and thankfully for me, he's already done most of the work - so kudos to this guy!

I didn't so much watch this movie for its plot, but more for its cinematography, knowing that most of it was shot in India. The beautifully filmed backdrops really did the Lake & Palaces City of Udaipur and the Blue City of Jodhpur justice, making it all the while worth visiting.

Just a little warning: If you do watch this movie, please don't watch the trailer, it will definitely spoil it!

 

 

Some places I would love to go on my next trip (because no doubt, there will  be a next one!):

• Goa
• Pushkar
• Pondicherry
• Kerala
• Varanasi
• Mussoorie
• Darjeeling

Any takers?

torturing (tennis) trainers.

If you know me well enough, you'll know I have this thing with extensive travelling and white shoes, there's something about the challenge of keeping them white, all the while still "roughin' it"... and the sunny weather in India made it quite simple.

The rainy season in Vietnam however, that's a whole other story...

Delhi belly, number six.

Late-night cravings for my sweet tooth.

This was one of the moments that I had waited for all trip: Bengali sweets, named after the region where they originate. Reminiscent of childhood potlucks and family get-togethers, I still remember as a child how the shopkeeper at Mistaan Catering & Sweets would always offer free samples of jalebi and gulab jamun as I waited (oh-so patiently of course) for my father to receive his order of these precious, little delights. 

Ladoos, or what my brother used to get
on his tests according to my mother
(aka big fat eggs/zeros). 

Sweet, milky treats that always made me
question whether the silver was edible.

kindred of kanpur.

A blast from the past
for my pops, no doubt.

Kanpur, Uttar Pradesh. And my father's hometown.

Walking through this town, it was the first time I ever felt like we were really out-of-towners. Being in a smaller, less-touristy city, the occasional foreigner around was usually a sight to see. As soon as we had walked onto school grounds, we were surrounded by hushed whispers and stolen glances our way from little groups of students. These pre-teens even came up to us and asked if we knew Emmanuel - my guess, probably the token Chinese kid. It turned out that it was his father (an "uncle" of ours) who had been driving us around town and later, we'd actually be meeting this "Emmanuel" for dinner.

An old classmate of my father's third eldest brother, had become the new headmistress at their high school. Watching her and my aunt re-count through tales of old teachers and past classmates, it really made me wonder what the future would hold for me in 40 years... Will I still remember the names of principals, teachers and peers from past biology or French literature classes? Will I be able to walk through the old hallways and remember where my locker used to be?

My dad walked into what was now the Media/Audiovisual room and told us how it used to be the student council courtroom. Being the President during his time, he had a makeshift judging panel with his peers to use as they passed judgement on other students, handing out punishments for those who deserved them...now I know where he gets his look of "no mercy" from.

Methodist High School.

If there was such a thing as the 
West Beverly Hills High of the South West.

The ol' bread-winner
(also on Kanpur's Wikitravel page!)

Seeing the Chung Fa was by-far the highlight (mandarin pronounciation: zhōnghuá - 中华). This was where my father and his 5 siblings grew up, shot the shit, engaged in shenanigans, caused all sorts of ruckus, all the while living above a thriving Chinese restaurant. The owners who had taken-over bought the place next door as well, expanding the restaurant, taking away the makeshift second-floor and giving it a new facelift. As my aunt explained the old layout, I tried picturing my dad as a kid, in his school uniform, poking around the kitchen, gobbling down some fried rice my grandma made, or sitting out on the patio, enjoying an ice-cold lassi.

The Liu family's backyard.

Later, we had a visit with old neighbours of my father's - another family of 7 brothers and 3 sisters. As we sat in their garden drinking chai, I wondered what everyday life must have been like with this band of young Kanpurians 40 years ago - class-size play dates? Their own cricket team? Amateur Bollywood films? One brother, in fact, did actually try his luck in Mumbai, having an "uncle" in the movie industry to help get him started, but unfortunately being a star wasn't in the stars for him and he moved back to Kanpur.

I'm sure that afternoon wasn't enough to catch up on 40 years of lost time, but seeing everyone chatting and laughing, one thing was for sure - great friends will always be great friends, no matter how often you keep in touch.