Tuesday, August 29, 2006


Like Sahlab is the stuff that warms you up in the winter, a Passiflora/Vanilla Barad cools you down, at least for a little while. Sahlab used to really contain powdered orchid, now it is made from cornstarch, the stuff that pudds the pudding. It is a custardy drink that you can top with peanuts, cinnamon, shredded coconut, and raisins and then eat with a spoon. The Barad (hail) is more slush than a ball of ice. And as I hail (pi) from a place that had both, I can tell the difference. Today I had Pina Colada and Passionfruit and it did the trick.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006


Lime season! Remember to scratch and sniff to be sure you are not buying green lemons.

Check out this totally hip napkin I bought near the shuk.Nothing goes to waste.

Happy 29+ Birthday to Grandma!

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

What is it Good For? Absolutely Nothing.

As a teenager growing up in the US, people would sometimes ask you, "Who died?" when the expression on your face appeared sad or distant. Maybe you were having a bad day or maybe nothing of significance happened and you just didn't feel like smiling. Whatever the case...what an insensitive question. Teenagers have it rough; growing pains, arguments with parents, and getting grounded for no apparent reason. But then again, it really doesn't matter what age you may be, these are trying times. There is a war going on. Maybe there are several wars going on but only one seems to make the headlines. I try to distance myself from the news because it is rare that good news make the broadcast. Now with a new job in PR, the news will reach me one way or another. Fortunately, it is good news that I will distribute, good news that I will write about, and good news that will be read by others.
Today I feel overtaken by sad news.
No longer a teenager and just barely an adult, I find that endings are no longer happy and no longer sweet as they were at Friendly’s restaurant with a 2-scoop dessert sundae for $2.19. They are endings full of never-ending tears it seems, with bittersweet chocolate gratitude swirled in; gratitude to one (and all) who risked their life and lost it for the sake of a country, a people, a nation’s survival.
In 9th grade I asked the teacher “Why is there war?” only to be mocked by a fellow classmate who thought the USA was always right in every situation. This Amerikakit saw heroism and blind nationalism. I saw anger and hate. He touched medals and tasted respect. I smelled burning and heard screaming. It was not a competition of who sensed war best; it was a hopeful question which may have led to an answer that might have helped end war completely. I don’t think the teacher ever answered me adequately if he answered me at all.