Creatures of habit
CREATURES OF HABIT
The occupants of flat 12 have been stocking up food every few days. Every inch of the fridge is taken by some edible form. In fact, Giva opened the fridge the other day and he gave a little squeal. (I swear it was a “squeal”.) Then he said, “An egg fell out” and started laughing. He explained that he thought he saw something strange falling from the fridge, like an alien life-form, and he heard a sound. An egg was the last thing on his mind. Yes, that’s a Performance student for you. Everything has a dramatic edge to it.
Anyway, back to the fridge. Looking at the content, you can actually tell which belongs to whom. Well, most of the food. There are some “generic” foods, like milk, eggs and fruits. But there is the telling Chinese stir-fry marinade (mine), Greek yoghurt (Anatasia), Pasta (Sara’s), frozen naan (Giva’s). You cannot really tell Gabriel’s food unless you look at the cooked version. He cooks buttered rice, which is a Mexican staple.
Everyone’s trying to recreate his piece of culture. How likely is it for me to eat steak? Not likely. How likely is it for Sara to eat rice? Not likely either. As much as the variety is enormous in the supermarket, there are certain aisles I would not spend too much time at. For example, the whole yoghurt section, which incidentally is quite extensive here.
I balk at my insistence at eating familiar foods. I have always considered flexibility a virtue and have scorned inwardly at inflexible people with disdain. But now, I look at myself and shake my head. I have to eat rice everyday. This would come as a huge surprise to friends and family because they know how much I detest rice back in Singapore. I could eat noodles or pasta or bee hoon. Anything but rice. But here, I eat rice every night! It seems to be my comfort food now. Maybe it’s a little creation of home.
What I miss is the smell of coffee from keong siak street.
FOOD
Speaking of food, my flat mates are as predictable as I am. Anastasia does not eat breakfast. I don’t think Giva does too. Sara usually eats wheat flakes for breakfast and she eats a few fruits at one go. I eat cereal with milk, plus a fruit. Gabriel goes to the gym in the morning but if he does eat, it’s cereal with milk and a cup of coffee.
We don’t meet at lunch because of our different time-tables.
At night, we see more variety. Giva is a good cook. He can whip up dishes (most of the time, Indian) in a short while. So, it could be dhal one night, or spicy vege with onions another and grilled fish the next. I am not a good cook but it’s rice and two other dishes. One must be a vegetable dish and the other fish/pork/chicken. Sara usually eats light dinners so it could be a just be a little pasta, without any sauce, and lots of vegetable and fruits. Anatasia eats loads of vegetables and nothing else. Gabriel is always complaining that he is bored with his food. Its buttered rice, salad and chicken. He is the one who would scrutinize our food and ask us how to make them. His girlfriend used to cook for him back in Mexico. I’m sure he misses her, especially at meals! Well, Giva and I agreed the occupants of Flat 12 could all take turns to cook for him, for a fee!
HOMELY MOMENTS
There are times when I wake up in the middle of the night, or in the morning and I momentarily feel that I am back home. It takes a split second to realize that I am not at home and it takes another split second to discover where I really am.
There are also times when I reach out to the wall for the toilet light switch. The problem is that the light is switched on by pulling a cord attached to the ceiling. The wall switch is at home, back in Singapore.
I don’t think I am home sick. I am not terribly sad or depressed. But I do think of home. When the wind is blowing and it’s raining for the 2138th time in the day, I’ll think of the heat in Singapore. When I come back from school and then there is no constant chatter over dinner (that she has prepared), I think of mum. When I read the emails from SP, I think of my colleagues and our shared lunches.
And I still miss the keong siak coffee.
The occupants of flat 12 have been stocking up food every few days. Every inch of the fridge is taken by some edible form. In fact, Giva opened the fridge the other day and he gave a little squeal. (I swear it was a “squeal”.) Then he said, “An egg fell out” and started laughing. He explained that he thought he saw something strange falling from the fridge, like an alien life-form, and he heard a sound. An egg was the last thing on his mind. Yes, that’s a Performance student for you. Everything has a dramatic edge to it.
Anyway, back to the fridge. Looking at the content, you can actually tell which belongs to whom. Well, most of the food. There are some “generic” foods, like milk, eggs and fruits. But there is the telling Chinese stir-fry marinade (mine), Greek yoghurt (Anatasia), Pasta (Sara’s), frozen naan (Giva’s). You cannot really tell Gabriel’s food unless you look at the cooked version. He cooks buttered rice, which is a Mexican staple.
Everyone’s trying to recreate his piece of culture. How likely is it for me to eat steak? Not likely. How likely is it for Sara to eat rice? Not likely either. As much as the variety is enormous in the supermarket, there are certain aisles I would not spend too much time at. For example, the whole yoghurt section, which incidentally is quite extensive here.
I balk at my insistence at eating familiar foods. I have always considered flexibility a virtue and have scorned inwardly at inflexible people with disdain. But now, I look at myself and shake my head. I have to eat rice everyday. This would come as a huge surprise to friends and family because they know how much I detest rice back in Singapore. I could eat noodles or pasta or bee hoon. Anything but rice. But here, I eat rice every night! It seems to be my comfort food now. Maybe it’s a little creation of home.
What I miss is the smell of coffee from keong siak street.
FOOD
Speaking of food, my flat mates are as predictable as I am. Anastasia does not eat breakfast. I don’t think Giva does too. Sara usually eats wheat flakes for breakfast and she eats a few fruits at one go. I eat cereal with milk, plus a fruit. Gabriel goes to the gym in the morning but if he does eat, it’s cereal with milk and a cup of coffee.
We don’t meet at lunch because of our different time-tables.
At night, we see more variety. Giva is a good cook. He can whip up dishes (most of the time, Indian) in a short while. So, it could be dhal one night, or spicy vege with onions another and grilled fish the next. I am not a good cook but it’s rice and two other dishes. One must be a vegetable dish and the other fish/pork/chicken. Sara usually eats light dinners so it could be a just be a little pasta, without any sauce, and lots of vegetable and fruits. Anatasia eats loads of vegetables and nothing else. Gabriel is always complaining that he is bored with his food. Its buttered rice, salad and chicken. He is the one who would scrutinize our food and ask us how to make them. His girlfriend used to cook for him back in Mexico. I’m sure he misses her, especially at meals! Well, Giva and I agreed the occupants of Flat 12 could all take turns to cook for him, for a fee!
HOMELY MOMENTS
There are times when I wake up in the middle of the night, or in the morning and I momentarily feel that I am back home. It takes a split second to realize that I am not at home and it takes another split second to discover where I really am.
There are also times when I reach out to the wall for the toilet light switch. The problem is that the light is switched on by pulling a cord attached to the ceiling. The wall switch is at home, back in Singapore.
I don’t think I am home sick. I am not terribly sad or depressed. But I do think of home. When the wind is blowing and it’s raining for the 2138th time in the day, I’ll think of the heat in Singapore. When I come back from school and then there is no constant chatter over dinner (that she has prepared), I think of mum. When I read the emails from SP, I think of my colleagues and our shared lunches.
And I still miss the keong siak coffee.
posted by changzee at
4:39 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home