I came across this one in a supermarket parking lot:
Up front, the windshield explains the reason for that enviable zero level of stress:
"Celibataire pour la vie" - translation: "Single for life"
Monday, September 26, 2011
Island Specialty: Part III
Long overdue to post some pics of cars dotting the island.
I came across this one in a supermarket parking lot:
Up front, the windshield explains the reason for that enviable zero level of stress:
"Celibataire pour la vie" - translation: "Single for life"
I came across this one in a supermarket parking lot:
Up front, the windshield explains the reason for that enviable zero level of stress:
"Celibataire pour la vie" - translation: "Single for life"
Monday, September 12, 2011
"Est" vs "Et"
Manolee just started first grade and tomorrow she will have her very first dictee - a dictation test. She has one sentence to prepare and I was helping her do so:
"Marou est un chat"
I had trouble enough pronouncing Marou, because in French the R takes a sort of an "h" sound before the actual "r" sound, and then there is that "ou" sound, which is not straightforward for me, especially preceded by an "r". But Manolee took it in stride and wrote it down correctly.
When I got to the second one, the word whose pronunciation I had utmost confidence in getting it correctly, Manolee looked up and said, "Maman, it's not "et", it's "est".
To me, "et" and "est" sound exactly alike. I asked her to repeat what she thought was the distinction. Twice. Three times. I still did not hear it. I asked Hanaya to say those two words for me and I heard an ever slight difference but not enough for me to really pick up.
Manolee rolls her eyes.
I don't really care that I can't pronounce things correctly, there is only so much I can do about it. But in all these years speaking French with French people, not one person spoke up to correct my mistake, which is astounding! And unlike when I say "deux ans" and people think I'm saying "douze ans" - it has created no big misunderstanding.
Nonetheless, I will have to rely heavily on my 6 year-old to catch my mistakes and endeavor to help me correct them (rolling eyes notwithstanding).
"Marou est un chat"
I had trouble enough pronouncing Marou, because in French the R takes a sort of an "h" sound before the actual "r" sound, and then there is that "ou" sound, which is not straightforward for me, especially preceded by an "r". But Manolee took it in stride and wrote it down correctly.
When I got to the second one, the word whose pronunciation I had utmost confidence in getting it correctly, Manolee looked up and said, "Maman, it's not "et", it's "est".
To me, "et" and "est" sound exactly alike. I asked her to repeat what she thought was the distinction. Twice. Three times. I still did not hear it. I asked Hanaya to say those two words for me and I heard an ever slight difference but not enough for me to really pick up.
Manolee rolls her eyes.
I don't really care that I can't pronounce things correctly, there is only so much I can do about it. But in all these years speaking French with French people, not one person spoke up to correct my mistake, which is astounding! And unlike when I say "deux ans" and people think I'm saying "douze ans" - it has created no big misunderstanding.
Nonetheless, I will have to rely heavily on my 6 year-old to catch my mistakes and endeavor to help me correct them (rolling eyes notwithstanding).
Sunday, September 11, 2011
This is What I Remember
9/11/2001
I had a presentation to give at 9am to another group, I think IED. Got in the office around 8. Jodi, who worked in I think Interactive, was already at her cube across from me and we chit chatted a little bit before putting our respective heads down and got to work. We were the only ones on our side of the building, and soon I saw my VP Anant walk into his office.
Jodi and I both heard a loud bang, but did not think anything of it (I thought it was construction noise). A minute later, Jodi's phone rang - I wasn't listening but detected surprise in her voice. She hung up and said, there is a fire in the WTC. We ran to the other side of the building to take a look - and saw the gaping hole in one of the two towers. Papers fluttering down from the gaps, fire burning. Brilliant clear blue sky as an almost eerie, inconsistent backdrop. Sirens almost immediately. PA came on, saying stay where you are, there is no danger. We went back to our desks. But I think curiosity got the best of us, we both headed back to the same windows on the other side, and there were maybe 20 of us, just gasping at what was before us - by now somebody said a small plane crashed into it - we were commenting how people must have died on impact, both in and out of the plane; wondering how do you not see a big building like WTC? Did the pilot have a heart attack?
Then a huge grey plane materialized out of nowhere from the Hudson River and crashed into the other building. We all screamed - one of the guys with us fell over and knocked down a cubicle wall. Without a word, we all started running. I went back to my desk, got my bag and Anant came out of his office, we told him another plane just hit, and we all started running down the stairs. Without exchanging words, everyone had come to the same conclusion - this is no accident, something more sinister is happening and we are the next building.
The stairs took forever. I lost a heel on my right shoe somehow but made it down. On the ground crowds were thick, all looking up at the two burning buildings. They said subways were closed. They said more planes were up in the air headed to Manhattan. They said people were jumping from WTC. I sat down on a curb, thinking WTF. What just happened? Then, how do I get home now that the subway is closed? Nobody's cell phone was working, which added to the bizarre atmosphere.
I don't know how long I lingered there. Anant came over and said, come on Rae, we are gonna get out of here. I said to him, no I'm gonna stay right here, I have nowhere to go, I can't go home. He said, no better to walk uptown. I said no the subways are not running, where would I go? He insisted, no we are all walking uptown. I got up and joined the group - self, Anant, Jodi, Becky, Debbie (who I think had fainted but recovered at this point), Shu, Liz? I think maybe Corinne too.
We went up North End Avenue, and stopped at a deli. I shared a bottle of water with Jodi. We went up to Stuyvesant and paused. Shu got a phone call on her cell - it was from her father-in-law, calling from Geneva. None of the local calls were getting in, but from abroad the lines seemed to work for some reason. She told him she was okay. He called back some minutes later and asked if he should help get in touch with the families of her colleagues. I quickly gave her my home number so that he could call PeeWee and let him know I was okay.
We passed many many cars just parked on the streets, with windows down and the radio blaring. Reporters were arriving from uptown. People shouted out bits of news, like 8 more planes in the air! They are attacking Washington too! Bridges are all closed! I think most of us were in utter shock. I don't remember much talking as we walked up north.
Then I heard a rumble, like a long thunder. Looked back and saw an enormous cloud of smoke coming down. People started screaming. We were probably on Worth Street, so the cloud does not reach us, but we can see it clearly. What is happening? Anant says a wall collapsed. People around us echo this, a whole wall has come down. How is that possible? Because of the smoke and the cloud, it does look as though the back part of the building is still standing. We are dumbstruck. How many more people are now dead? What about all those people just standing around downstairs? I am chilled by the thought that I was going to just linger downstairs by the WFC myself till the subways reopened.
We keep on walking. We get to Canal Street and it's packed as usual. I think at this point people from my group separate. Memory at this point is really hazy. I just know I decided to walk up to 12th street to my friend Edith's apartment. And I did, alone. Along the way, somehow, people covered in dust overtake me. They have run from the site and kept on running, so now that they are ahead of me, heading more and more uptown with a clear purpose: get away from lower Manhattan. I try two lines at public phones. Neither line moves very fast. I give up and keep on walking.
I get to 12th street. To my dismay, Edith is not home. I sit down in her lobby. The doorman is watching TV and does not pay me any mind. Sirens are deafening. People in the lobby are talking and when someone says, the towers fell, I dispute it. I say, no just the one wall came down, I saw it! They look at me like I've got two heads. One of the girls says to me, no the whole building came down, and the second tower too. I am again dumbstruck and I say, that is not what I saw! She takes pity on me, invites me upstair to her apartment to give me some water.
I go upstairs with her, her boyfriend comes in and they turn on the TV. But I feel uncomfortable and tell them I will wait downstairs for my friend. I wait in the lobby some more, not feeling at all sure that what they told me is true.
Not sure at what time, I think around 2pm, Edith comes back home and finds me in the lobby. I was so happy to see her. Then a black hole in memory. I think I tried the phones again. I think I got to talk to PeeWee. I don't remember what I said to him. I don't know how but somehow Mei got in touch with me and told me that her brother has a car in the city and that we will drive back to Queens as soon as the streets and bridges open up.
I remember then leaving Edith's apartment and making my way to East 30s where Mei worked. Passed NYU Hospital, lots of people standing around, speaking in hushed voices, lots of ambulances on the streets. Met up with Mei, I think she was already with Ken. I think around 6 or 7, the bridges opened up and Craig drove us back to Queens. The LIE was completely and utterly deserted, the very first time (and last) I have ever seen the highway empty. It was very unreal.
Coming back home - remember very little after. Just remember the headlines the morning after - and feeling very empty.
Later, the building super and his wife tell me that PeeWee was an utter wreck. He had seen the news and went up to the roof to see the burning towers. He was crying, thinking that I was dead. He said the old lady downstairs came up to complain about Hanaya running in the apartment and he just snapped at her. He then got a phone call from Shu's father-in-law from Geneva, so he knew that I was alive.
9/11/2011
PeeWee thinks it's silly of me to dwell on what I remember and what I don't. He thinks it's unhealthy to think back to that day. Somehow I feel differently. I lament the holes in my memory. I still choke up when I read stories about that day. I am astounded by stories of luck and coincidence that kept people out of harm's way. I'm inspired by stories of children who lost a parent that day, children who strive everyday since to make that parent proud. I'm struck by the insanity of what happened. And I hope and pray that, despite other terrorist attacks since 9/11, that something of this magnitude does not happen again, that people snap to their senses and see the futility of such attacks.
I had a presentation to give at 9am to another group, I think IED. Got in the office around 8. Jodi, who worked in I think Interactive, was already at her cube across from me and we chit chatted a little bit before putting our respective heads down and got to work. We were the only ones on our side of the building, and soon I saw my VP Anant walk into his office.
Jodi and I both heard a loud bang, but did not think anything of it (I thought it was construction noise). A minute later, Jodi's phone rang - I wasn't listening but detected surprise in her voice. She hung up and said, there is a fire in the WTC. We ran to the other side of the building to take a look - and saw the gaping hole in one of the two towers. Papers fluttering down from the gaps, fire burning. Brilliant clear blue sky as an almost eerie, inconsistent backdrop. Sirens almost immediately. PA came on, saying stay where you are, there is no danger. We went back to our desks. But I think curiosity got the best of us, we both headed back to the same windows on the other side, and there were maybe 20 of us, just gasping at what was before us - by now somebody said a small plane crashed into it - we were commenting how people must have died on impact, both in and out of the plane; wondering how do you not see a big building like WTC? Did the pilot have a heart attack?
Then a huge grey plane materialized out of nowhere from the Hudson River and crashed into the other building. We all screamed - one of the guys with us fell over and knocked down a cubicle wall. Without a word, we all started running. I went back to my desk, got my bag and Anant came out of his office, we told him another plane just hit, and we all started running down the stairs. Without exchanging words, everyone had come to the same conclusion - this is no accident, something more sinister is happening and we are the next building.
The stairs took forever. I lost a heel on my right shoe somehow but made it down. On the ground crowds were thick, all looking up at the two burning buildings. They said subways were closed. They said more planes were up in the air headed to Manhattan. They said people were jumping from WTC. I sat down on a curb, thinking WTF. What just happened? Then, how do I get home now that the subway is closed? Nobody's cell phone was working, which added to the bizarre atmosphere.
I don't know how long I lingered there. Anant came over and said, come on Rae, we are gonna get out of here. I said to him, no I'm gonna stay right here, I have nowhere to go, I can't go home. He said, no better to walk uptown. I said no the subways are not running, where would I go? He insisted, no we are all walking uptown. I got up and joined the group - self, Anant, Jodi, Becky, Debbie (who I think had fainted but recovered at this point), Shu, Liz? I think maybe Corinne too.
We went up North End Avenue, and stopped at a deli. I shared a bottle of water with Jodi. We went up to Stuyvesant and paused. Shu got a phone call on her cell - it was from her father-in-law, calling from Geneva. None of the local calls were getting in, but from abroad the lines seemed to work for some reason. She told him she was okay. He called back some minutes later and asked if he should help get in touch with the families of her colleagues. I quickly gave her my home number so that he could call PeeWee and let him know I was okay.
We passed many many cars just parked on the streets, with windows down and the radio blaring. Reporters were arriving from uptown. People shouted out bits of news, like 8 more planes in the air! They are attacking Washington too! Bridges are all closed! I think most of us were in utter shock. I don't remember much talking as we walked up north.
Then I heard a rumble, like a long thunder. Looked back and saw an enormous cloud of smoke coming down. People started screaming. We were probably on Worth Street, so the cloud does not reach us, but we can see it clearly. What is happening? Anant says a wall collapsed. People around us echo this, a whole wall has come down. How is that possible? Because of the smoke and the cloud, it does look as though the back part of the building is still standing. We are dumbstruck. How many more people are now dead? What about all those people just standing around downstairs? I am chilled by the thought that I was going to just linger downstairs by the WFC myself till the subways reopened.
We keep on walking. We get to Canal Street and it's packed as usual. I think at this point people from my group separate. Memory at this point is really hazy. I just know I decided to walk up to 12th street to my friend Edith's apartment. And I did, alone. Along the way, somehow, people covered in dust overtake me. They have run from the site and kept on running, so now that they are ahead of me, heading more and more uptown with a clear purpose: get away from lower Manhattan. I try two lines at public phones. Neither line moves very fast. I give up and keep on walking.
I get to 12th street. To my dismay, Edith is not home. I sit down in her lobby. The doorman is watching TV and does not pay me any mind. Sirens are deafening. People in the lobby are talking and when someone says, the towers fell, I dispute it. I say, no just the one wall came down, I saw it! They look at me like I've got two heads. One of the girls says to me, no the whole building came down, and the second tower too. I am again dumbstruck and I say, that is not what I saw! She takes pity on me, invites me upstair to her apartment to give me some water.
I go upstairs with her, her boyfriend comes in and they turn on the TV. But I feel uncomfortable and tell them I will wait downstairs for my friend. I wait in the lobby some more, not feeling at all sure that what they told me is true.
Not sure at what time, I think around 2pm, Edith comes back home and finds me in the lobby. I was so happy to see her. Then a black hole in memory. I think I tried the phones again. I think I got to talk to PeeWee. I don't remember what I said to him. I don't know how but somehow Mei got in touch with me and told me that her brother has a car in the city and that we will drive back to Queens as soon as the streets and bridges open up.
I remember then leaving Edith's apartment and making my way to East 30s where Mei worked. Passed NYU Hospital, lots of people standing around, speaking in hushed voices, lots of ambulances on the streets. Met up with Mei, I think she was already with Ken. I think around 6 or 7, the bridges opened up and Craig drove us back to Queens. The LIE was completely and utterly deserted, the very first time (and last) I have ever seen the highway empty. It was very unreal.
Coming back home - remember very little after. Just remember the headlines the morning after - and feeling very empty.
Later, the building super and his wife tell me that PeeWee was an utter wreck. He had seen the news and went up to the roof to see the burning towers. He was crying, thinking that I was dead. He said the old lady downstairs came up to complain about Hanaya running in the apartment and he just snapped at her. He then got a phone call from Shu's father-in-law from Geneva, so he knew that I was alive.
9/11/2011
PeeWee thinks it's silly of me to dwell on what I remember and what I don't. He thinks it's unhealthy to think back to that day. Somehow I feel differently. I lament the holes in my memory. I still choke up when I read stories about that day. I am astounded by stories of luck and coincidence that kept people out of harm's way. I'm inspired by stories of children who lost a parent that day, children who strive everyday since to make that parent proud. I'm struck by the insanity of what happened. And I hope and pray that, despite other terrorist attacks since 9/11, that something of this magnitude does not happen again, that people snap to their senses and see the futility of such attacks.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Mystery Fruit Identified
I took the girls to an art gallery in Marigot one day last week - I'm not usually an art gallery patron, but I was dropping off a batch of canneles for the artist and his wife that we had met a few weeks ago at a party. The Sir Roland Richardson Gallery is in a 19th century Creole townhouse in the center of town. I had never set foot in there before and I was pleasantly surprised at how lovely everything was: the paintings, the house, the courtyard garden overflowing with green shrubbery and colorful flowers, stone-laid walls at the back of the garden - all very charming and unexpected.
Anyway, as I was leaving the gallery, a painting of a fruit caught my eye. The fruit pictured was exactly the fruit that I had written about a few days ago. I now know that this fruit is called Soursop (pronounced somewhat different to how you may think, based on its spelling - but I cannot repeat its pronunciation now, I've forgotten - but it's definitely not SOUR-SOP). In Spanish the fruit is called guanabana; in Portuguese, graviola.
According to Purdue University's horticulture website:
The fruit is more or less oval or heart-shaped, some times irregular, lopsided or curved, due to improper carper development or insect injury. The size ranges from 4 to 12 in (10-30 cm) long and up to 6 in (15 cm) in width, and the weight may be up to 10 or 15 lbs (4.5-6.8 kg).
I did not think that such a big, heavy fruit could come from a tree, but apparently that is the case. Soursop trees are evergreen, low-branching and slender. The internet is full of websites calling attention to the anti-cancer properties of this fruit.
Who knew?
Anyway, as I was leaving the gallery, a painting of a fruit caught my eye. The fruit pictured was exactly the fruit that I had written about a few days ago. I now know that this fruit is called Soursop (pronounced somewhat different to how you may think, based on its spelling - but I cannot repeat its pronunciation now, I've forgotten - but it's definitely not SOUR-SOP). In Spanish the fruit is called guanabana; in Portuguese, graviola.
According to Purdue University's horticulture website:
The fruit is more or less oval or heart-shaped, some times irregular, lopsided or curved, due to improper carper development or insect injury. The size ranges from 4 to 12 in (10-30 cm) long and up to 6 in (15 cm) in width, and the weight may be up to 10 or 15 lbs (4.5-6.8 kg).
I did not think that such a big, heavy fruit could come from a tree, but apparently that is the case. Soursop trees are evergreen, low-branching and slender. The internet is full of websites calling attention to the anti-cancer properties of this fruit.
Who knew?
Monday, June 27, 2011
Day out at Karakter
Karakter Beach Bar is on Simpson Bay Beach. It's an unpretentious place that lets you hang out on lounge chairs and Fatboys if you just order something from the bar. The atmosphere reminds me of the Planch'Alize in La Reunion - very laid back.
It's also right next to the runway, parallel to it actually. So yes, it can be noisy but it is surprisingly undisturbing.
We spend some Sunday mornings there, before it gets too crowded. Some pics from our recent outing:
And then this:
What is he taking a picture of, exactly?
It's also right next to the runway, parallel to it actually. So yes, it can be noisy but it is surprisingly undisturbing.
We spend some Sunday mornings there, before it gets too crowded. Some pics from our recent outing:
And then this:
What is he taking a picture of, exactly?
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Island Fruits
St Martin is not known for its agriculture. The focus is solely on tourism; I've heard that since water is so expensive, local farming has died out almost completely. There is one farm that seems commercial, but supermarket shelves are full of fruits and vegetables from anywhere and everywhere.... but here.
Locals, however, do have trees that bear fruit. PeeWee sometimes comes home with fruits given to him by his patients - most of the times huge green bananas or starfruit. This week, however, he brought two pieces of fruit that I had never ever laid eyes on before. One rotted so fast that I did not have time to take a picture or even eat. It looked like a kiwi - same color skin, though no fuzz, and about the same size, although it had a definitely sweeter smell to it. The other fruit was this:
What the heck is this?
To give you a sense of proportion, a 20-oz bottle of water was placed next to it.
The skin is slightly soft, gives in to gentle prodding and the prickly looking parts are not really prickly.
Not sure if I am brave enough to cut this open!
Update: Did cut it open, its inside looked vaguely like a pale pineapple with big black seeds. Not brave enough to eat it though since a small mold was looking quite threatening on one side...
Locals, however, do have trees that bear fruit. PeeWee sometimes comes home with fruits given to him by his patients - most of the times huge green bananas or starfruit. This week, however, he brought two pieces of fruit that I had never ever laid eyes on before. One rotted so fast that I did not have time to take a picture or even eat. It looked like a kiwi - same color skin, though no fuzz, and about the same size, although it had a definitely sweeter smell to it. The other fruit was this:
What the heck is this?
To give you a sense of proportion, a 20-oz bottle of water was placed next to it.
The skin is slightly soft, gives in to gentle prodding and the prickly looking parts are not really prickly.
Not sure if I am brave enough to cut this open!
Update: Did cut it open, its inside looked vaguely like a pale pineapple with big black seeds. Not brave enough to eat it though since a small mold was looking quite threatening on one side...
Monday, June 20, 2011
Island Pictures
My in-laws just left. They are both very active people who find it difficult to sit still for any long stretches of time. One positive side effect of having such in-laws is that I get to swipe some of their pictures taken around the island. Unlike them, we really have not explored the island much, aside from the few beaches that we go back to again and again. So here is one picture that they took on one of their many jaunts around the island:
I've been wanting to take a picture of these mailboxes for some time, but every time I pass by it I am driving and there is a car behind me. So I was glad that my father-in-law took notice and snapped it. Isn't it a great shot?
More pictures to follow!
I've been wanting to take a picture of these mailboxes for some time, but every time I pass by it I am driving and there is a car behind me. So I was glad that my father-in-law took notice and snapped it. Isn't it a great shot?
More pictures to follow!
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