Fork Tapas in Cape Town
Little Ethiopia, Cape Town
Personal collection as usual
It wasn't full yet so our food arrived quickly. We opted to share a big platter with a little of everything. My dear friend from Botswana was equally to hungry to remember and figure out each viand in our big, big platter. All I remember was that everything seemed so delicious with the ingera, the white sticky bread (like pita but gooey) that we ate with the stewed meat and vegetables. There was a wash basin within the restaurant and enough tissue paper, which was very helpful because one would inevitably use one's fingers.
My advice: come with an appetite and an open mind. If I were to return to Cape Town, I'm definitely eating there again and will bring more friends!
Little Ethiopia, 76 Shortmarket Street, Cape Town. Tel: 021 424 8254
One Afternoon in March
Personal collection as usual
Sometime in March 2006, I was in Madrid on holiday. During the same trip, I made a courtesy visit to the Philippine Embassy (PE). I exchanged views with one of the of the Madrid PE staff (career minister level), which I suddenly remembered on this March winter afternoon in Hamburg.
You see, while supposedly reading up on materials on development cooperation, I found myself reading a STRAFOR article on Gaza, Catalonia, and Romantic Nationalism. Then I realized, about six years or so after I decided to skip international relations (IR) and diplomacy for development work, I inevitably find myself drawn to IR stuff (if I’m not drawn to food and travel).
While in Madrid, I told the Madrid PE staff that I wanted to be part of the Foreign Service because I really enjoyed dwelling on international affairs and at the same time, do public service. And her response? “Just stay in the family business (which is inter-regional anyway) and just read the newspaper for global affairs. Look at [President] Ramos, (he attended the World Economic Forum then), do you think he can shape or change the world? You’re better off doing what you’re doing.”
Of course I was stubborn enough to move on and find my own path. But some things will never change.
The Killers in Hamburg
I'm not a big fan of The Killers. I've just been a passive listener the past few years except for one song that really brings me back to memories of a specific period of my life that need not be mentioned here. So when the first song they performed was Mr. Brightside, I was floored! If the concert started with that song, the rest would just be overwhelmingly great! And it was!
It was so good I regret not buying a ticket closer to the stage. I usually just prefer to hear the live performance and not to see the band up close but Brandon seemed so hot in his tight pants, just so polished! Singing, playing the keyboards, dancing, jumping, rousing the crowd incessantly.
The band was performing in Germany, even if it was Hamburg, so Brandon was practically begging for the crowd to lighten up and dance. So many times he made reference to dancing shoes even on a Monday night. Towards the end, the crowd sang to the old songs and danced to this rock band's music. Strange but really, I associate The Killers to dancing too. =) Most definitely not a quiet Monday night.
From Hamburg with Love
119 impressive pages on the political economy of the aid system of Afghanistan from 2002-2007. I've spent the past few days reading the PhD dissertation of a woman I’m becoming to admire more each day.
I'm always in awe of anyone who has nearly perfect or absolute command of a foreign language in terms of understanding, speaking, and writing. Written entirely in English, I do not have the words to express how amazed I am with her ability to communicate the difficult context of state-building in post-conflict Afghanistan interspersed with themes on good governance, democracy assistance, aid effectiveness, and the overall development cooperation climate depicting the disconnect among the donors’ domestic constituencies, the multi-layer/contractor implementing agencies, the central government, and the rural communities to which aid must reach.
It is almost like a summary of what I have been striving to do the past ten years except the regional cooperation part, which is a little bit more complicated to tie in an in-depth study such as that even if Afghan history has largely been shaped by the powers that controlled its regional neighbors.
I’m here sitting in a warm office in Volksdorf, supposedly one of the wealthier neighborhoods of already rich Hamburg – the city with the highest per capita income and highest concentration of millionaires in Germany. Sometimes aid efforts must be ‘backstopped’ from this comfort, far away from the communities intended to benefit from the help.
Yet here I am also away from my comfort zone. Or maybe not.
Hamburg reminds me of my three favorite places: Amsterdam, Antwerp, and Stockholm. It’s culturally diverse but not as shocking to me as Rotterdam even if it has the second largest port in Europe. Hamburg has plenty of bridges, rivers, and canals. It’s also cosmopolitan and old at the same time. I saw very few people wear Jack Wolfskin jackets even if there’s a very big store near the Rathaus. Although I do not expect much from Asian restaurants, I can pretty much eat everything here. There’s a lot of meat and a lot of seafood. (Even a store that sells dulce de leche but no alfajores.) If only there were crabs, I’d be very, very happy. But who needs to be very, very happy? Being happy alone is enough.
It’s just been almost 3 weeks since I moved here doing what I enjoy doing most – development cooperation in my favorite continent working on my region – Asia. Just what I always tell everyone: “I couldn’t ask for more.” Well, perhaps if my friends and loved ones can all be here too (even for a visit) but that is asking too much.
I was sitting in Cape Town, specifically during a class on public policy and reform management at the University of Western Cape thinking, “this scholarship was God’s way of reminding me that His plans are better than mine.” And He continues to surprise me every single day through the people He sends my way.
And for that, I am very thankful.
Wochenmarkt Volksdorf
I moved to Volksforf a few weeks ago. It's a district in the Wandsbek neighborhood in the northeast of Hamburg. Literally means "people's village" and it has a very lived-in feel where families thrive in a community. It's common to see teens in bikes to and from school, elderly carrying groceries, the middle aged folks sipping coffee at a cafe with a book or an iPad.
But last Saturday, people were on the streets, specifically all over the Wochenmarkt. As a deprived foodie, I was just thrilled to know that a lot of the food I like is sold in Volksdorf either at supermarkets (more on that on a next post) or at the weekend market.
This is where all the thundercats are at!
The closest to fresh fish I can ever have unless I go to the infamous fish market of Hamburg at 5am.
Cape Town Calm
I spent a month in Cape Town with classmates and failed to make a single entry. As those wine bags suggest, enough wine, chill moments, and just too much fun in Cape Town. We did study of course.
Christmas 2012
It's Christmas in Manila for me but just like last year, it's different. Amidst all the festivities that I have yet to weave through, I'm ambivalent of all the sights and sounds so far. Even the joyous and peaceful aura that Christmas brings elude me. Maybe I should start shopping? Nothing ushers in Christmas than generosity and gifts.
Kai Neo Japanse Cuisine
Since I moved to Germany, I realized my taste buds have significantly changed. In Bochum, I found most dishes bland and lacking flavor. Non-spicy Mexican food, non-salty Spanish food, or simply "empty"-tasting Vietnamese salads.
So when I had lunch at Kai Neo Japanese Cuisine recently, I really appreciated the clean flavors of the dishes. None were oily and what you taste are just the natural flavors. E and I ordered a lunch menu each (I had grilled mackerel and he had seared pork) accompanied by their house sake, and a sashimi platter because I missed raw salmon.
Badalona, Bochum, Germany
One somber Saturday in December, I was out in Bochum with a friend. If it weren't raining, we would have found ourselves at the Weihnacht. But it was a sad day for me and I wanted somewhere cozy and familiar.
At the corner of Sudring and Brüderstraße is Badalona, a tapas and cava bar. For so many months, I've always walked passed it but it was always closed or I was on my way to dinner elsewhere. That evening, it was the perfect venue for a very poignant time in my life.
I wanted to have croquetas de bacalao but they didn't have that evening so S and I just had a serving of croquetas de jamon instead. I couldn't taste the jamon let alone find it inside the tiny croqueta. But it was okay. I loved the ambiance. Later on, S had some torta de papas, then we ordered calamares a la plancha and chorizo de merguez, which is not actually Spanish but French - S' favorite, apparently. With this, S had Belgian beer and I had white wine. I know, I didn't even ask where it was from or what kind. I didn't want to think.
At the corner of Sudring and Brüderstraße is Badalona, a tapas and cava bar. For so many months, I've always walked passed it but it was always closed or I was on my way to dinner elsewhere. That evening, it was the perfect venue for a very poignant time in my life.
I wanted to have croquetas de bacalao but they didn't have that evening so S and I just had a serving of croquetas de jamon instead. I couldn't taste the jamon let alone find it inside the tiny croqueta. But it was okay. I loved the ambiance. Later on, S had some torta de papas, then we ordered calamares a la plancha and chorizo de merguez, which is not actually Spanish but French - S' favorite, apparently. With this, S had Belgian beer and I had white wine. I know, I didn't even ask where it was from or what kind. I didn't want to think.
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