These 3 words...

...they can change our lives forever. (Celine Dion?).

I. LOVE. YOU.
I caught a cute conversation between a mom and her daughter today. After a pause, the little girl just said 'I love you Mommy' and my heart melted. <3

This is quite common here, kids learn at a young age to express themselves in public and to communicate their feelings. In Mauritius, it is way less popular. We grow up assuming our parents love us without the need to ever hear it nor the need to express it in person. To this day, I don't recall ever saying something as uncensored and simple, as this little girl's four-word sentence, to my mom. And anybody who knows me knows that my mom is the person I love the most in this world. I have written it in cards and have certainly shown her by being the doting daughter. But all 3 languages I could have used to say it failed me every time my heart was so full I wanted to say it.

That should not be hard in theory. I have said those three words before, to guys I barely talk to these days. Yet I can't say it to the one person who carried me inside of her for 9 months.
Well....it's not just her. I don't think I ever said it to my brother nor to my dad..... Wait a sec, I don't think I've ever said it to anybody in my extended family except my cousin who kinda forced it out of me by repeatedly saying she loves me! So then, it would be easier said to someone if you have the practice of hearing it over and over again!

That would make sense. It is way easier to say 'I love you too' to someone once they have said it. It even makes it easier for one to initiate the exchange the next time too. It's the fact that we know the other person has said it and therefore will not reject our vocal display of affection. Not that my mom would reject mine, but she might be confused to hear it for the first time after 30 years. She might even be lost for words! The fault is all hers then. Had she raised me by repeatedly professing her maternal love for me, it would be easier for me to say it today. Maybe some of the exes would have been grateful for that too. It must have been hard for them to extract those words from me as I am definitely an 'actions speak louder than words' person. But then I'm obviously not with any of these guys today. I wonder if I had trouble saying it because I knew these relationships wouldn't last or maybe the fact that I couldn't express myself made these relationships not last....

In any case, back to you, Mom: I love you loads but I might never be able to say it to your face and it's all YOUR fault!
(You can blame it on grandma, that's fine too!). :)

Life and its plans

As I approach my 30th birthday, I have been reflecting or has been queried about my goals in life. For a woman, the big 3-0 is daunting, especially if you are single and seemingly not going anywhere in life. As far as I can remember, I have thought that my 'vocation' in life was to be a mom. I have the maternal instinct, I love kids and I have what it takes to raise kids well I believe. Surely then, that would be plan A in the grand scheme of my life. To find someone to make babies with and raise them to be outstanding human beings.
Since this plan is not quite going as it should, what then am I doing with my life?
Am I living plan B waiting for plan A to happen? What if plan A never happens? Would my life be a failure then?
I am currently on a road trip with one of my best friends and we have brought up a lot of these 'life and relationships' topics up. So what comes out of it is: if plan A would make me absolutely happy, should I then settle for the first available man who comes my way? That would definitely enable execution of plan A. Would it mean that I would be happier than my current plan B execution? Surely in some ways it would be. Are there any other options than these 2?
Once plan A is engaged though, there is no turning back. It is that leap of faith that has been holding me back. It would be fairly easy to find someone who also wants a family and have an agreement that because that's what we both want, we will make it work. And God knows how many couples have found success in this scheme.
If there was a book of life plans, then I wish I could query it to know when to switch back to plan A.
It seems however that it all comes down to how much I want plan A to happen and shall I then make a decision to make it happen to keep on the same path till time to depart this life. Unless of course a plan C presents itself.

Citizen C

I became a legal Canadian citizen a few days ago.
Unless one has gone through the process, very few would know what it entails. For most of us, we are citizens of the country we were born in, or grew up in. I have no clue how to become a Mauritian citizen, but going through the process of calling Canada 'my' country definitely made me think of what it means to be from that country.

Having been in Canada for the last 10 years less the 18 months plus holidays I took out of the country, I have, I think, assimilated enough Canadianism to fool people into thinking I am from here. With the odd intonation on some words and a hint of an accent, the ignorance of slang words and expressions, the obvious cluelessness when it comes to social or historical events that happened before my landing here, I blend in quite well with the hordes of immigrants who call this country home. Would I however think of myself as Canadian when asked?

I have taken pride in displaying my bilingualism and my Asian descent despite being born in an African country. It amazes people that coming from such a tiny island, I am faring well in gigantic Canada away from my parents and closest relatives. It surprises even more that I am not alone. There is a big Mauritian community in the Canadian ranks, those who settled decades earlier when Canada was just this distant country where it snows and that promises success and wealth, to those who, like me, came to study with the financial support of their parents and stayed because it offers more opportunities that we would otherwise have back home.
Here, I did it again. 'Home' is Mauritius in this case. When I go visit Mauritius though, home is Canada. I am lucky that I may hold dual citizenship, I am therefore not obliged to choose. Of course I would choose according to my mood and advantage, that cannot be helped. But have I not been able to keep my Mauritian citizenship, the decision to become Canadian wouldn't have been that easy. Being Mauritian is part of my identity. In my heart I know I will always be Mauritian. It does not however mean that I feel any less kinship with my fellow Canadians. Canada is forging some traits of my personality just as well as Mauritian society moulded my identity. Give it another decade or so and I'm sure when asked, I will truthfully claim to be Canadian. For now at least, I may say that I am grateful to have been welcomed into the Great North's family with open arms, as the picture attests, by others who have gone through the process themselves as well as those who feel proud that people all over the world want to call their country home. Viva Canada! :)

The thrill of a new connection

As humans, we make connections with each other daily.
Each conversation is used to strengthen an acquaintance into a friendship, build up ties with someone else, share experiences and learn more about each other. The accumulation of all interactions is what makes up a relationship between two people. My relationship with the people around me is subject to endless scrutiny and re-assessment by none other than myself. It would surprise me if it was not the same for others.

Although I do not have any difficulty striking up a conversation with someone I have met before and hence make connections quite easily after my initial awkwardness and shyness are gone, there's nothing like the thrill of suddenly finding myself deeply connected with someone else. Sometimes it is someone new, someone I was meant to connect with, someone who is my new BFF within a few weeks, if not days. Sometimes it is someone I have known for a long time, someone I have not spent much time with, but a series of events brings us together, within a short period of time and I discover the person anew. In either case, I can't help a feeling of elation when I make such a connection (or when the realization of it hits me!).

This is one of the things that carry me through life. The fact that I can make friends, and that these connections are priceless. Nothing like the feeling that someone else can finish your sentences, or understand your feelings without having to voice them out, or making jokes in sync with someone else. Ideally, that is what you would want in a mate. This would be everybody's quest in life: to find a mate with whom they connect so deeply and utterly that time spent together is never a burden even if life is not all smiles.

It is true that I'm almost thirty and still single. It is true that I'm picky. I own it.
I get such a thrill out of making new connections because it proves me right, it gives me hope. If I can feel warm and fuzzy about finding friendship when I wasn't expecting it, how much better would it be to make a connection with someone I'd be attracted to? And if that does not happen, then that is okay because nothing less would be acceptable on a daily basis. Somehow having witnessed these kind of connections personally  is what made me this 'picky'. Have I not experienced the dramatic impact a few days could make on a relationship or a few select moments, it would have been easier to settle for the next guy knocking on my door. In retrospective, nothing at the beginning of any of these fantastic friendships gave any indication of the endless source of laughter and shared joys awaiting - awesomeness pure and simple. So who knows, an acquaintance today could be my next BFF, or that stranger walking down the other side of the street could be a newly discovered soul mate within a few months. The possibilities are endless if the mind is open to anything, my heart open to new connections....<3

Some people believe in 'sparks' and use the lack of it as an excuse to not follow up on a first date. I admit that I have done that too. History (my own, not the world's) has proven me wrong a few times, I have changed my mind about some people as I spent more time with them...I have felt connected with some people more as the days go by, without the presence of a 'spark' at the first, second or even third meeting. Some people just 'grow' on you, so people dazzle you from the start....In either case, no connection can be forced, no matter how much effort is put into it by one or both of the parties. That is what makes it all the more sweeter when it happens...a gift to savour and be grateful for every single day!

The Afri-CAN in me!

I was recently back in Mauritius for a few days, but more importantly, I went to South Africa for the first time.

Like all other trips I took, I have done my homework before going there: researched places to visit, found out how to get around, what's the tipping rule, read reviews of the hotels, etc. Almost all the blogs/reviews online and all the tourist guides I have laid eyes on, warned tourists over and over about personal safety in SA. Personal accounts from friends and relatives were added to the mix to make us doubt the decision to visit such a country. So my parents and I landed there, with wary eyes and an overload of precautionary measures, tips from diverse sources on how not to be victims of any crime. Much to our surprise and relief, danger only loomed once and even that could have been just the fruit of a self-inflicted brain-washing due to constant exposure to negative aspects of the country that hosted the World Cup last year.  

The first few days were distinctly different from the rest of the stay. The destination was Sun City, major tourist attraction at the edge of the Pilanesberg National park, about 2 and half hours drive from Johannesburg. We are talking 2+ hrs drive into the bush! More than 2 hrs drive of scenic views of plains and mountains and greenery!

We knew even before we saw it, that the population demographic would be less diverse than in Mauritius. Caucasians in the bush are still a minority, Asians are even more seldom encountered except in little retail stores found at the periphery of a supermarket. Yes, we visited supermarkets there. My dad takes comfort in familiar things like KFC, Spar and Shoprite (both supermarket chains). Defying the warnings, we ventured out of the touristy paths and NOTHING happened to us! Not that we didn't tremble at every opportunity though!

Like I was saying to one of my ex-coworkers when I was telling him about this trip, I come from AFRICA. He was giving me tips on how to protect my belongings in public and I said to him "You watch, I will NOT be robbed, I grew up in Africa". It would have been easy to succomb to fear and stay inside the relatively safe walls of our hotels. But far from it, we roamed the streets at night, walked everywhere we wanted to go in Cape Town and drove on uncertain roads in the wilderness. Yes we can. More on the trip later.

I've been 'adjusted'!?!?

For the Adjustment Bureau, please press 1.

I've watched the movie The Adjustment Bureau on its opening day on Friday.
*SPOILER ALERT* Stop reading now if you haven't seen it and if you plan to see it at some point.

There are a few things that are at conflict in this movie. It seems to promote the belief that there is a God and He is called 'The Chairman'. He has a plan for everybody and to make sure His plan gets done, He has 'angels' with hats who look after EVERYBODY.

But the premise that God is omnipotent is undermined here. The movie is saying that God's plan could fail. I agree with that, because I want to think that we do have free will, so if God's plans fail, it is because we freely chose not to follow God's plan for us. That's all good, except for the angels sent to monitor us poor mortals. God's angels are powerless. They are tired and fall asleep on park benches, they can't carry a simple task on time and they use doors to get from one place to another. Even better, they have books to document where the doors are. Also, poor them, they cannot use the doors without their hats!

Imagine, angels with hats, not wings! They can't even fly! They look like humans!And they are seriously understaffed. I think I can wrap my head around the fact that God has helpers, to carry out His plan, but God to be understaffed? Also God is omnipresent, so He knows what is going on at all times, He is watching. Then why are there angels to monitor us ALL THE TIME?

And what about the ripples? In the movie, the angels wanted to stop Matt Damon's character at all costs. He was running away from them, and to try to stop him, they created a minor accident....
What about those people, where were THEIR angels?

I believe in God. I believe in his omnipotence. I sometimes question my faith, but I always go back to it even if I can't understand or prove anything. I understand the creative and artistic effort of the movie. But surely they could have given more credit to the angels?
It's always fun to analyze how people picture God, and how faith works in people.
The movie itself isn't bad, but it does build up on expectations and then has a flat finish. 
Enough said.

I have done a really bad job of updating this blog.
I guess my new year resolution (2 months later!) would be to write at least once a month!

I shall not stir the past and go over past events, so today's topic would be on something that has been in my mind lately.
Two weeks ago, I met a guy over lunch. I've met him online, he seemed nice, so I agreed to go for lunch. Nothing fancy, just the foodcourt close to our workplaces. He was polite, a little bit quiet, but he didn't show any sign of being a jerk. I had to keep the conversation flowing since he seems to have no inclination to do so. That is fine because people who know me, know that I can. Funny though that as soon as he mentioned he still lives at home, I lost interest.

He is 28, has a university degree, has a job at a bank, seems healthy, so there's obviously nothing to prevent him from leaving the nest...I have lived by myself for 3 years now. Nothing like it to make you grow into an adult, to take responsibility for EVERYTHING in your life. The laundry not done? Your fault. Nothing to eat in the fridge? Your own fault. No mom or dad to remind you to do the groceries, pay the bills, or to ask you to do anything for that matter. I'm not saying that people who live with their parents cannot do that, it's just not a proven fact that they can.

Now, if I was still in Mauritius, it would have been different. The culture there is such that people do not leave the family home until they get married. If I didn't come to Canada to study and then stay, I would probably still be living with my parents and there would have been nothing wrong with that. A lot of young people actually get married and stay with their parents. That's totally acceptable. Meeting a single guy in Mauritius who is well into adulthood and still living at home is not exactly out of the norm. There.

Here though, the culture is different, so the expectations are different. Teenagers leave the family home as early as sixteen. Not everybody does it, but it is common that when you get your first job (or second, or third, in fact, whenever you've decided you are financially secure) you can and will move out. Especially if you have a boyfriend/girlfriend or childhood friends who would move in with you.

So the 'grown-up' me is in conflict with the woman who would have been in the same position as this guy in an alternate universe where I didn't leave home and come here. Some of my friends say I should not dismiss him just on that fact...some say I'm totally right. I see both sides of the argument, I don't think he's totally incapable of taking care of himself, but part of me thinks that the guy is somewhat not ready to grow up or he would have moved out. There's nothing wrong with that, some people take longer than others. However I am NOT ready to take someone by the hand at this point or wait for him to grow up. I'm 3 years ahead in that game. Sorry dude.

Next.

The one with the clubbing...

So I went clubbing last week, not something that happens often these days but I still quite enjoy it.
The club itself was in a back alley, not very comforting, but the people waiting to go in didn't seem threatening at all, so I paid the cover and went in.

The washrooms were posh, they were even giving away samples for hair products. How cool is that? Too bad that I only bring a small purse when I go clubbing and I can't stuff it with samples! Anyways, that's not the point today...

One thing that did mesmerized me though was that when we were on the dancefloor, an African-american woman, stopped a caucasian man in his mid twenties just a step away from me and I overheard her introducing herself. Fair enough. I looked away for maybe 3 seconds and when they came back into my line of vision, lo and behold they were kissing each other!! That marked me. What could they have said to each other, other than each other's names during that 3 second gap? Hi, my name is *bleep*, let me put my tongue down your throat now?

Now, I encountered an article in today's newspaper that talks about the "grinding" in clubs. This I find is quite interesting, but unfortunately, the link isn't up because it's the w/end newspaper I guess and you would have to buy it! But in essence, it talked about how, being difficult to talk in clubs, guys would just walk up to a girl on the dancefloor and grind behind her. Some of the women didn't find that degrading at all, they were flattered that the guy chose them and the next thing you know, they were kissing. This is what it has come down to. Guys do not approach girls, sweet-talk them and buy them drinks. They see, they choose, they grind and get kissed. If they are rejected, 10 seconds wasted.

I feel like the world is going through a degradation that is unstoppable. In last century, it would have been unimaginable for a man to touch a lady in public, let alone when they are total strangers. Next time I go clubbing, I should be afraid to even look at any guy straight to his face lest he thinks it's an invitation to come grind behind me.

The dolphin argument

During my trip to Cuba, I had the opportunity to book a day on a catamaran which included lunch at a restaurant on Cayo Blanco and an interaction with dolphins.

Although I come from an island, I've only seen dolphins in the wild once, on a catamaran trip about 7 yrs ago. The dolphins were totally free, we were able to see them because the fishermen knew their usual whereabouts but it was entirely up to luck whether you'd actually see them or not. We were lucky that day, they came and swam alongside our catamaran for about 30 minutes.
My only other dolphin sightings were the occasional dolphin show in a marine park of some sort, never within arm's reach though.

So being told that we would have the chance to get our pictures taken with a dolphin was enough to get us all excited about the whole experience. The dolphin enclosure, which was a structure built in open sea, had a number of large pools that had platforms built-in for people to stand on and stairs leading down to them. The dolphin trainer, Abel, asked about 10 people to step on the platform at a time. We were allowed to touch the dolphin everywhere except for the eyes, the air orifice and the genitals. One of the three dolphins, whose name was Nemo, would follow Abel's instructions to swim slowly along the row of people on the platform and a second time to swim on its back, giving us the opportunity to feel the texture of its "skin" on its back and the underside as well. Then, we each got a "kiss" from Nemo before he showed us how to clap and wave goodbye. Then if you chose to, you could have your picture taken by a "professional" photographer and later buy the picture for 10 pesos.

In addition to all the above, I had 2 "intimate" moments with the dolphins. I was the first in the water with my group, so furthest from Abel when he started with instructions for us. One of the dolphins swam right towards me and I stood there, backing up a little with my arms apart and out of the water and Nemo came and poked my belly button. It was U N R E A L. It's funny the thrill I got out of it. I felt so special *sigh*.

Later on, while waiting patiently for everybody ahead of me to get their professional picture taken, I was slapping the water a little to see if one of the dolphins will respond and surely enough, I caught the attention of one of them. When he approached, I held out my open hand just under the surface of the water (I've seen Abel do it!) and it slowly swam to my hand and poked it before swimming away. I dreamed then of having a dolphin as best friend. :(
Nemo gave me a big, sloppy, tongue-out kiss for my "professional" picture. Yes, I totally felt like a princess.

One of my friends had something to say on my dolphin experience. When I posted the picture of the dolphin enclosure, she said that the dolphins should be released and said that I should watch "The Cove" if I don't agree. I have not watched the film, the Wikipedia page says enough. I know enough about myself to know that I would not be able to bear the movie. That said though, the other remarks that followed from my friend were like personal attacks, blaming me for slaughtering the poor mammals almost.

My friend's point was that dolphins should be free and not held in captivity. I agree to that, I don't think ALL of the dolphins in the world should be held in captivity. I however do not blame ALL marine parks or EVERYBODY who condone such activities that would bring them closer to dolphins in captivity. She pointed the finger at me because by going through with it, I was encouraging dolphin-hunting according to her. Okay, there's only a limited number of marine parks around the world, with only so much demand for dolphins. My argument for dolphins kept in captivity is that they bring awareness to the masses. After all, not everybody can afford to go see dolphins in their natural habitat. Someone who has seen a dolphin in a show is more likely to be interested in the fate of the mammals than someone who has been watching the Discovery channel.

Maybe I would have felt different if I witnessed a dolphin being ill-treated. The ones I have met though looked happy and playful enough. There was a 3-year old little boy from Quebec in our group and he cried his eyes out when his mom took him out of the water. Now tell me that this kid is not going to remember this day for the rest of his life and feel a special attachment for dolphins and you would be lying. Is this little guy going to grow up to become a dolphin-killer? Is he already a dolphin murderer because he wanted to touch an otherwise inaccessible animal? You tell me.

Cuba...the discovery of a communist country

I came back yesterday from a week-long trip to Varadero, Cuba.
C U B A, such a sweet sound to my sunburned ears right now.

Most people probably associate that country to Fidel Castro, the US embargo, beautiful white sand beaches and what not. Yes, like most people I've done my research before going there. However, the research was mainly to address my comfort level when I get there, not on the country itself. So funnily enough it is only today that I have read the wikipedia page on Cuba.

Last Tuesday, I was on a day trip to Havana, the capital of Cuba. During the 2 hour bus trip there, the tour guide gave us anecdotal details about Cubans alongside the historical details that made the country what it is today. One thing that hit me right away was the number of people waiting by the side of the road.  I soon realized they were waiting for a ride...not a specific ride, just any car that would pick them up.

Now, that fact in itself is puzzling to me who have never hitchhiked, the result of a sheltered childhood and the absence of a situation where I'd absolutely need to go somewhere without having the means. Now Cubans are not rich, so I would understand that the vast majority of the population would have to use public transportation. Coming from a "poor" island myself, I am aware of illegal cabs, especially in regions where the bus service is less than par. This was my original thought. These people by the roads are waiting for a car which would stop and take them wherever, for a minimal charge. But to my surprise, the tour guide was quick to correct me. The rides are free. Huh.

Ok, so if I was poor and had a car that is falling apart, why would I pick up people I do not know by the side of the road and drive them to where they need to go? Of course, out of the goodness of MY heart, but not everybody has a golden heart like mine. So here's another thought: the car does not belong to you. It belongs to the state and your position within the government entitles you to a car, but since everybody is working for the good of everybody else, you SHOULD stop and pick up people if you can! Errr...okay.

Yes, I was born and raised in a Capitalist country. The idea of not owning anything except the clothes on your back is MIND-BLOWING. Cubans are not allowed to sell their houses because they do not own their houses. They can agree to exchange houses and pay a tax to the government for it, but the government still owns their houses. When the tour guide told us about the house exchange, I thought of a conversation in my head that would go like this in between 2 Cubans:

Man1: Ola, I think my house is getting too small for the family and your kid is in high school in the countryside most of the week. What do you say we swap houses?
Man2: Ola. Hmm, true, I guess we only really need the room just for the week-end when he comes back, but we could all squeeze nicely into your house otherwise.
Man1: Is that a deal then, should we go pay the tax?
Man2: Okay, let me run it by the wife and give you a final answer tomorrow.
Man1: Awesome, let me know.

It's probably not the way it goes. The only way it could happen would probably be between relatives who would sacrifice themselves for the good of the people they love. Why else would they swap houses??

Have I read the wikipedia page beforehand, I would have had way more questions for the tour guide....That would teach me to barely skim the surface when "researching" my vacation destination!

Two-faced Bastards...

or another version of "the grass is greener on the other side"!

Last night I was at a "play" that featured a stage with a curtain made up of blinds in the middle and the audience split in 2, on either side of the curtain, facing the stage. The audience had the choice of the side they wanted to be on, without the knowledge of which side was going to be featuring what. It was suggested that if you came with someone, to split and each watch a side of the play. 

My side of the stage started with 6 comedians sitting, facing the audience and a discussion among themselves about what it means to be a performer. One by one, they left their seat and went on the side to undress and get into their costume before going through the curtain to the other side of the stage and started to dance. We could catch what was going on on the other side when the blinds were moved, accidentally or on purpose

For the first part of the play, I had the distinct feeling that I was on the backstage side of the curtain and missing out on the dance on the other side. Therefore throughout the play, any glimpse of the other side was like a peek into a better performance and a guess of what the stage on the other side looked like! I would say my side was not bad, it was funny, we had a dance component, and the producer/choreographer was seated just behind me and HE was chuckling every now and then! Ah but the nagging feeling that the grass is greener on the other side....

After the performance, we gathered in the lobby with some people who have seen the play from the other side. Funnily enough, they also started by thinking they were seeing the backstage because for them the play started with 1 dancer warming up and barely hearing the discussion on the other side of the curtain. We then discussed the numerous times when we could hear distinct sounds but could not make out what was happening on the other side. It turned out that we had the more explanatory side of the curtain and they had the more obscure, more artistic side. Now depending on your personal taste, arguments can be made for either side. For sure though, a number of the audience walked out of there feeling they chose the wrong side to sit on....

Random chats

When I was a teen and the Internet was "new" to most people, there was IRC.
People my age, in my country, would spread through their peers which channel they were going to be on in the evening and sure enough, you would find the most popular kids on there (mind you, with ingenious nicknames). The excitement at the time was trying to figure out who is behind the nickname and to make friends in real life if we clicked on the net. Since I come from a relatively small country, that wouldn't be quite hard, most people were separated by 3 degrees at most. All conversations back then would start with the usual "a/s/l" (age/sex/location) question and go from there. That is how I discovered random chats.

This phase of my life didn't last very long, I quickly found it boring to be talking to people when you did not know what they looked like and hard to actually make friends with. The other day, I was watching NCIS and one of the characters in there was trying a "webcam chat roulette" site. Out of boredom, I googled it and signed up on the first website that came up in the search results.

Well now, apparently they are all pretty much the same...There's a button that allows you to jump to someone else if the one you are currently looking at does not please you. Both parties can "next" each other, so if you see a little shuffling going on, you KNOW you don't look good enough to be talked to...or rather, you have on too many clothes....Yes, unfortunately there is way too much nudity on that website. It seems to me that some people are just dying to expose themselves and these webcam-driven websites are just a field day for these exhibitionists!

This new experiment did not last long either for I do not take any kind of pleasure in looking at guys playing with themselves. I did however make a friend there. It also happened to be his first time on that website, which maybe explains why we were the only two fully clothed! We did exchange credentials to keep the conversation going and have learned to know each other through long w/end chats. Now is it creepy to meet people online? That's for another posting...soon hopefully!

The Rainy Olympics

I'm finding Vancouver quite...wet.

The temperature is quite mild but the clouds wouldn't go away. So the winter olympics is set amid a rainy background. I wear boots every day, suede boots, but there's no snow to tread in.  Mind you, I do enjoy not wearing layers and layers of warm clothes, but come on, these are the WINTER Olympics!

I have been enjoying the behind-the-scenes while volunteering though.
This allowed me to get closer to the outdoor Olympic flame just outside of where I'm volunteering as a techie.
And I got to see the CTV studios up close as well! Now, I just want to see Canada win GOLD!

The Mauritian at the Vancouver 2010 Olympics...

So I've been in Vancouver for almost 48 hrs now.

A few things to note:
- streets are narrower over here,
- people look gooooooood here (I always tend to find people outside of where I reside better looking!)
- it has been raining since I got here....

So it's a good thing I brought my umbrella.
Yesterday was quite a fun filled day. I picked up my dress rehearsal tickets and a bottle of wine and walked around downtown a bit. I ended up at Robson Square where I decided to wait in line to pick up competition tickets. After more than 1 hr wait, I got them tickets, yay!

I was talking in line with a very nice couple and I saw them again after having lunch in the mall. I was actually looking for a locker to put away my wine bottle, but guess what, for security reasons, they have removed all the lockers during the games! So when I saw them again, I offered to give the guy my bottle of wine and then had to explain that I can't hold on to it because I cannot bring any food or drinks with me to the dress rehearsal that night.

Next thing I know, the guy was directing me to a concierge of a nearby hotel where he used to work and I went there and the concierge guy accepted to store my bottle of wine, but not without asking some questions about how come I ended up at his desk.

That's one thing about these games....Vancouver is opening up to the world and I'm opening up to strangers apparently. Yes mom, I know I'm not supposed to talk to strangers but these are the winter olympic games!!!!!!!

Go Canada go!  (Only coz Mauritius doesn't send any athlete to the winter olympics!) :P

Dreams....

Do you believe dreams have meaning???
The other night, I dreamt that I was in my old bedroom in my parent's house in Mauritius, preparing to go to bed. Then I looked out the window and saw a couple of shooting stars...so I kept watching and then a ball of fire fell, turned towards my house, crashed somewhere behind my house where I couldn't see from my window.
In that dream, it was as if I was watching an action movie. I saw the ball of fire come towards my house and I ducked for cover, when I looked up again, there were 2 FBIs in the field next to my house (there's no field in real life!). The 2 FBIs were some actors I've seen in some TV shows, can't really remember which ones. Then the firemen came and then I woke up.

What the hell was that about?
How come nobody in my house woke up from that din?
How come nobody came to rescue me?

The dream was so real that I needed a few minutes to realize I was in bed. I felt the fire, I saw the damage, I heard the noise.
Now, they say you dream of the last thing you were thinking of before falling asleep....What was I thinking of before I fell asleep? 2 unknown actors? shooting stars? firemen?

If someone can find meaning in this dream, give me a shout...

Surprise!!

My extended family loves surprises. My aunts plan surprise after surprise, they somehow always have some kind of hidden agenda. Question why they are doing something instead of taking the path of least resistance and they will shoo you away. There, you know they are brewing another surprise.....

There's 2 kinds of people. The ones who like surprises and the ones who do not. I'm thinking I'm more of the 2nd. That doesn't mean that I don't like to plan for one for people around me, I just don't like being the surprised one. Lately I was planning to surprise a friend, and when that didn't turn out the way I planned, I was quite upset and started taking it out on him. But wait a minute...was it his fault that I couldn't surprise him? I guess not. I was more upset about how I planned it than anything else. If I had done this instead of that, if I have said this instead of that, or if I had said this or that at a different time....

This made me think of other situations in life where a simple word/action could have an impact on the rest of your life. If a surprise could be ruined by a word, what else could be altered by a different word, at a different time, in a different way?....What if...

Age, marital status and appropriateness...

Yesterday, I went to the hair salon to have my hair done for my cousin's wedding.
The hair salon was operated by Koreans who barely spoke English. But even with their limited english, the woman setting my hair with curlers, after a couple of introductory questions, asked point blank how old I am.
Taken aback, I still answered her and immediately after, she asked if I was married! She didn't comment on my single status, but kept asking other questions like, where do I live, what kind of work do I do, etc.

Since hairdressers are usually known for gossip, I was wondering if she was actually just asking questions for small talk or if it was going anywhere in her head. In any case, I thought it was quite nosy of her, so I was relieved when I was handed over to a hairstylist.

The hairstylist was a young Korean guy and he asked me what kind of style I wanted for my hairdo. I had the hardest time to decide between an updo and a half up, half down style but when asked, I decided to go for the updo. The guy, though, said that a half up, half down style would make me look younger. Fine then, the younger look it shall be. Not surprisingly, a few minutes later, HE was asking me how old I am AND asking me if I was married!!! At least, he joked about it saying "not yet, right?". He also asked me what kind of job I have.

So, what is it about Korean hairdressers and the way they talk to their customers? Obviously, they must have some kind of script according to your age range because a relative who is a bit older than me, also had nosy questions, but they were of the nature of "what religion are you?". I wonder now....do they all go through a training that says "Chapter 12: questions to ask a woman in her late twenties..."?

What is it...

about being abroad that makes you act differently than in your own city?

The plan today was to walk up the street and enjoy the neighbourhood.

So there I was chatting with someone by my side and walking at a fast pace to catch up with the others when passing a guy on the bus stop. I haven't paid attention to that guy, actually, I didn't even see him until he said "hi" to me, and then on impulse, I said "hi" back. Errr...yeah, that was a reflex and chances are, I would have done the same in Toronto...but I was taken aback, shouldn't my awareness level be higher in an unusual place?

Second incident was just an hour or so ago. The crew was taking pics by a dinosaur statue, by the side of a traffic-jammed street (don't ask!), and I was just waiting for them to be ready to set off again when I heard someone clear his throat behind me. So I turned and this guy sitting in a truck in the traffic jam was looking directly at me and when I turned, he made some appreciative noise and instead of just turning back and ignoring him (what I would obviously have done in TO), I smiled and then went on my way. When the light turned green and he passed us, he waved his hand through the window to say bye.

Okay, I was flattered....

In a tank top and capris and my hair in a loose bun, I certainly wasn't worth a double take. I get cat calls walking to work in TO sometimes. In heels and dressed up, it's justified....but I have never turned and smiled!!

So I'm not sure if it's the air here or just the fact that I'm on vacation...or maybe just the men around here....whatever it is, if I was just half as friendly walking down the street in TO, I sure would have loads more friends back home than I do now!

Update:
I was approached today by a guy in a wheelchair in a McDonald's. He wheeled his chair straight at me and said that I'm so beautiful it makes him wish more than ever to be able to walk!!! 
And following my cousin's wedding, my cousin was telling me today that her cooking instructor asked about me at her wedding. I could have sworn the guy was taking pictures of me, but it wasn't obvious, he could have been playing with the settings on his camera!
Maybe I should consider moving here....

Not nerdy enough...

I'm back after 2 yrs!

I was thinking during my flight over to L.A this morning that I'm not nerdy enough, I should really update my blog and this is the perfect occasion to start again.

So here I am, after waiting 2 hrs at LAX for my cousin to pick me up. (We redefine "fashionably late" over and over in my family.) I think I saw Christina Ricci while waiting, I got a snapshot of her, that I will upload later if I can find a software to crop pics on my new Aspire One. Some paparazzo took pics of her too, so I'm 90% sure it WAS her and she barely reacted to his flashes....

So here's to the first few hours in L.A....Now where are those burritos or fish tacos?

Fresh or hard-boiled egg?

How do you differentiate between a fresh and a hard-boiled egg?


Answer:
Spin them really fast.
The hard-boiled egg will spin faster than the fresh egg.

Check it out!