Bag it

I am sure I killed a lot of trees today. It was NOT a good day. Lots to print/photocopy at work, and considering not many places recycle here in Cayman, I cringe every time I hit print. Considering how much more sophisticated Cayman is compared to oh say Bermuda, I wish it housed a proper recycling facility. Paper, glass, aluminium - you can bet there will be a lot less ending up at the dump. I cringe when I think of the dump, all that plastic holding out only to degrade completely a good 100-500 years later, depending on its strength. In fact, I cringe every time I snap up a plastic bag at the grocery store, because what will temporarily hold the groceries for a little while, will inevitably end up at the dump filled with what not. Cayman has got to do better than this. India, a third world country, recycles, for Pete's sake.

Some grocery stores in Toronto will charge you for every plastic bag you need to cart your groceries, about 5 cents a bag, or you're welcome to help yourself to one of the cardbox boxes at the front of the store. On this trip I was told that this was now mandatory at all grocery stores in Toronto but the folks failed to tell me that this applied to ALL stores, clothing included. It was much like them asking me to pick up liquor from the liquor store, but failing to mention that the liquor store had moved!!! Anyway, not wanting to make the mistake of going into a store minus my own bag, I snapped up a bunch of what I think are adorably chic and extremely strong, widely spaced reusable bags from Walmart. I now feel so much better using these instead of having to add one more plastic bag to Cayman's dump. In an effort to encourage Torontonians to participate in a green program such as this, bags are now 5 cents each at all locations. It definitely works. 5 cents can add up to a lot pretty fast, so, get ready because this will soon be coming to a Canadian city or province near you. Such a novel idea and high time for the rest of the world to join in, don't you think???

Fallin'

Toronto. September 2009. A family reunion. Not to mention gorgeous foliage to look at. Here's a piece. Wish I had more to show you.

No more

A family friend's four year old, let's call him Noodles, which is actually one of his nicknames, has been a frequent visitor at my parents' place in Toronto. My mother is one of his favourite people and he will not pass up the chance to spend the night at their place. So, of course he regales her with all sorts of stories and is quite content with having 'conversations' with her, not to mention playing games with her on her iPhone.

During one of their conversations, the topic of relating something back to each of their parents came up. Noodles asked my mother where her parents were. Not wanting to tell a four year old that they had long since passed she told him they were not around. Her rationalisation was, how much does a four year old know and even understand the concept of being dead anyway.

Noodles, proceeds to ask her: Well, where are they?

Mom: Well, they're not alive anymore. They're in heaven now.

Noodles: In heaven?

Mom: Yes, in heaven, with Jesus.

Noodles: In heaven with Jesus? Oh, so they died?

Mom: !?!?!?!?!?!

And here she was trying to break it to him gently. Well, apparently that was unnecessary! He's obviously a very smart four year old.

Which bring me to this, with all this 24 hour coverage of the legendary Michael Jackson's demise and the constant scrutiny and airing of how his fans come to terms with his death, I have to wonder: do WE, as adults, really know and understand the concept of death and what it means to be dead?

The right side

I'm back!!! I have been away...away last week to a cold land.

The moment we landed in good old Toronto, I wanted to head back to the heat in Cayman, especially since I have been away from the cold for more than a year. There's other things I have been away from too... like the first day I took the car out for a drive. My mantra for the first half hour was STAY ON THE RIGHT, STAY ON THE RIGHT, STAY ON THE RIGHT. Then the satisfaction when I subconciously did stay on the right without having to remind myself to do so. It's the little things, you know.

Seven Miles of serenity

March!

Still cold in Toronto.

Probably still damp in Bermuda.

But HOT HOT HOT in Cayman. It seriously does not get any better than this.

After such a relaxing day at Rum Point (our first visit - pics coming soon), I've got nothing to complain about.

For now, I have some gorgeous shots of Seven Mile Beach. And I know right now you're wishing you were here and I don't blame you. This would be enough to make anyone abandon their post.

Walk the walk

Caymanians say I walk too fast. It's a force of habit, I tell them. If we didn't walk this fast back in Toronto during the winter, we'd be frozen on the way to our destination. Then they laugh. They hate walking, they say. I know this because they'd rather, in an outdoor complex, drive from one stairwell to the next instead of walking, or letting me walk. And no, no heels were worn. It's a fact that once you've acclimatised to a metropolitan city and are dependent on public transportation, you pretty much tend to walk everywhere once you're downtown. Parking rates there are highway robbery, so many just use the subway and/or walk. It's environmentally friendly, economical and definitely a more efficient way of beating traffic. New Yorkers will attest to this fact as well.

I can't remember what my Bermudian peeps might have said about my walking speed. Actually I do remember. They said nothing! No one walks fast in Bermuda. You just can't! Not when you have all those hills and dips to walk on. Speed is not even a factor in Bermuda. It's stamina!

My husband, however, says I don't walk fast enough...to keep up with him. Sometimes I don't know what he's talking about.

Duck!

Is it just me or does everyone think up of scenarios that could possibly go wrong when certain details are revealed while conversation with a loved one back home. Is this a sign of growing older, knowing full well that being cautious does not necessarily mean that you're wiser? Or is this something that expats feel more so, when they're cut off from their family back at home? Like as if our presence back home would somehow lend to a 24 hour case of protection of that particular loved one, ironic when you wonder how they managed to stay out of harm's way when you both lived in the same city and yet had different daily agendas. Am I making sense?

Well, let's see, of late, my parents in Toronto could tell me a certain something and WHAM out of now where I am thinking of all these scenarios that could go wrong, which follows up with me telling them to be extra cautious, without saying too much, in the event I'd freak them out. I'd like to point out that I am not psychic but these thoughts inevitably occur at times. Is it just me? Am I on edge? Am I losing it? Wanting to have a sliver of control in this highly unstable world. Maybe it's not a question of control but a question of peace of mind. Or maybe it's just a question of protection, or safety. Safety. That's it! We all just want to be safe. Feel safe. Safety for us, our families, no matter where we are, no matter how far the divide. Feeling safe! Just like everyone in Bombay would like to be feeling right now. I hope my friends & family in Bombay are staying safe. I hope the hostages are set free and this is all resolved with justice rightly served. This is much too sad and much too worrying.

Maybe it's just not me at all...maybe you've been feeling it too. All my expats, all around the world, care to weigh in? I love to know what you think just so I know I'm not going crazy!

The only way crabs are meant to be cooked

Growing up in Dubai, the beaches yielded plenty crabs and clams. All that has changed now as the crabs and clams have dwindled thanks to all that construction that has been eating up the beaches. Back then, when I was a child, the relatives would get together and head out to the beach for an all day and all night beach BBQ event. You haven't experienced the ultimate BBQ until you've hung around us. Orange tarps were put up to shade us from the hot desert sun, little floatable rafts were blown up for us kids to chill in out in the ocean and tandoori chicken, lamb sheek kabobs and marinated pork would be grilling on those old time wood/coal fire grills. We kids were also taught how to dig up for clams. Well, we had to earn our keep, right? Along with our moms, we'd haul in buckets of clams by the end of the day. And once night fell, the head honchos would head out to catch crabs, blue Dubai crabs, as seen HERE. It was very important that this night was a 'No Moon' night, as it was called - because that's when the crabs come out to eat. And buckets of them, our fathers would catch. At the end of the night everything would be divided equally and as soon as we got home, Mom would cook up the clams and crabs in a coconut curry. DELICIOUS! When we moved to Canada, we didn't really eat crabs for a long time, until I found the very same blue crabs in Chinatown and since then we've been inviting those blue crabs to join us at the table.

Here in North America, it's the Alaskan King Crab that is popular. And while the North American way of cooking crabs is very different, and by different I mean devoid of spices, it's true that you haven't tasted crab until you've had it in a coconut curry. What I don't like about the King Crab legs is that they come partially cooked and laid on ice and that's no way to go. In my opinion, the best way to cook crab is to add it to that coconut curry when it's raw. In my experience, it tastes better when it's cooked from scratch. I made the Goan/Mangalorean Coconut Crab Curry with King Crab legs here a little while ago, for Hubby's birthday. It was delicious and tasted even better the next day (which is normally the case for crabs when cooked this way). As my childhood friend, Pedro asked me the details on the birthday meal, I began to think about the King Crab legs. They're pretty long and meaty and this left me wondering, what does the actual King Crab look like and what is done with the rest of it. A little bit of research via Google Images, yielded me THIS! And as I went through the images I sent over this particular one to Pedro, he like I was dumbfounded. He more so, because he called over all his co workers who were 'pouring in' to look at it. I am not sure if my family or friends back in India or Dubai have actually seen the King Crab before and so to them I say, check out the King Crab. It's crab like you have never seen before.

My version of the Goan/Mangalorean Coconut Crab Curry. If you do end up trying this out, email me and let me know how yours turned out.
Ingredients:
5 medium blue crabs (preferably raw), each about 500 g OR 1½ lb of King Crab Legs.
½ cup of water
50 g Tamarind pulp (available @ at Kirk's Supermarket/Grand Cayman in the Indian Foods section).
2 teaspoons Ginger-Garlic paste
1½ teaspoons red Chili Powder or Paprika (optional)
2 teaspoons ground Cumin
2 teaspoons Garam Masala and/or All Spice
2 tablespoons Coconut Oil
150 g Onions, thinly sliced
½ teaspoon Salt, or to taste
½ teaspoon Black Pepper, or to taste
300 ml Coconut Milk
2 Scallions (green onions)

Directions:
If you're using the whole Blue Crab: cut each crab into 4 or 5 pieces (snap off legs, and cut the body in half once the shell has been removed and the small stomach sac behind the mouth and the inedible grey feathery gills are removed). Rinse under cold water to clean.

If you're using King Crab Legs (preferably raw & fresh): cut off the spiky points on the leg as these are very sharp. Run your fingers over the legs to ensure no sharp bits have been left behind. Rinse under cold water.

Heat up Coconut Oil and add Onions & sauté them until softened and light brown.
Add ginger garlic paste, cumin, garam masala or all spice (or both!) and red chili powder (optional) & sauté gently for 3-4 minutes.
Add ½ cup of water, tamarind pulp and salt. Bring to a simmer then add the coconut milk and simmer again.
Finally add the crabs and simmer for about 5 - 8 minutes until cooked.
Add chopped scallions at the end after the heat has been turned off.
Serve with rice.
A chilled fruity white wine is a great compliment with this meal. Chilled beer may also be served.

Double takes

Friday evening. Downtown Toronto. My mother walking the streets and she notices a nun walking ahead of her. Not just any nun, but a 'young black nun'. This definitely holds her attention because here is a nun walking the streets of Toronto. She's intrigued and thinks to herself: This nun is young. You don't see that anymore and you definitely don't see nuns walking about out on the streets. Mere moments later, the nun is spotted chatting on the cell phone and my mother thinks to herself: 'Shit, they let nuns have cell phones these days? What the heck is this? What kind of nunnery is this?'
And then it dawns on her that it's Halloween and this nun is no nun at all.
My mother! The stunts she pulls and the things she says always makes us laugh and this time I've forewarned her that this is going on the blog.

And here I am...
Friday evening. Seven Mile Beach, Grand Cayman. Happy hour. Where no sooner than we arrive, one of my former co-workers whom I had seen just a month earlier, walks in. My jaw drops and my eyes pop out because here is she is walking in looking all cool and pregnant. And for the few moments that I am left speechless, the following thoughts run through my head: What? When? Who's the daddy? She knows she's got your attention and that shock value, and she smiles, which is when I spot her black tooth, coloured to make it seem like it's missing. And yes, I slap my forehead because the tooth is a dead giveaway that it's Halloween. How could I have forgotten? I think it was because the hardcore Halloweeners hadn't arrived yet. Laughs later, she poses with a beer in one hand, and a cigarette in another while we snap away, also in the hopes that a concerned someone walking by may give her a good piece of their mind on the perils of drinking and smoking while pregnant. I have to say, on that night her persona was very reminiscent of the female characters on AMC's Mad Men, an awesome show set in the 60's. If you haven't watched it, you should. I highly recommend it.

Encountering butterflies

Sure squirrels are adorable, but what are they really? One way of looking at it is that it's just an oversized rat, that just happened to have a bushy tail which changed its appearance for the better. Of course, there are no squirrels in Cayman, but I haven't entirely forgotten about them since they were frequent visitors in my backyard in Toronto for the eight years that I lived there.

Here in Cayman, the same analogy can be applied to butterflies. There really are so many of them around, and perhaps that's due to the butterfly farm (which I have yet to visit) that encourages the growth and survival of these beautiful creatures. But what are butterflies really? Take off their beautiful wings and they're just oversized bugs, that ordinarily are not very appeasing to the eye whatsoever. And its former form is certainly not pretty. People tend to let caterpillars be all because they know that it will eventually turn into a beautiful butterfly. And here in Cayman one can find so many of these butterflies fluttering around their car while they're driving and even while being stationary. At times it can be a distraction because if you're like me, you just want to take note of which kind managed to make it past your windshield at that particular moment - check out their colours, that sort of thing. Heck they whiz past you while you're on the bypass, but of course you're going too fast to be able to notice what kind it is. But even so, just the thought of it is pretty nice and that's one of the reasons why I love driving in Cayman, if only to encounter butterflies on my drive around town.

Blah...

It's one of those days where all you're wont to do is curl up with a good book or a movie or just catch up on some much needed beauty sleep. Why? It's all because of a recurring weather pattern, as depicted in this picture here. If you're at work it's even harder to get out of this state of mind and focus. Or maybe not. Sometimes I don't feel so bad knowing that while it's raining out there, I'm at work, working. I'd rather it be sunny on the weekends and when I'm on vacation, thank you very much. Not that I'm complaining. Since it's still hurricane season until the end of November, I'm just glad we don't have any active storms in the area that could develop into a hurricane. Weather like todays however, reminds me so very much of Toronto. Apparently it is possible to experience Fall in Cayman.

Road rage

You know that law in NY & Toronto, where driving while on a cell phone is prohibited and a serious infraction, leading to fines (and I'm hoping prison). Yeah, they really need to implement that law here in Cayman. You will not believe the number of IDIOTS I cross paths with each day that can't seem to drive and the reason being well, surprise surprise, they're on their cell phones while they stupidly occupy the road. It's gotten to the point where I honk my horn and give them dirty looks. I really don't care who's behind the wheel, it could be a government official, for all I care, but heck if they can't take the time out to drive responsibly then that's too bad. And what fool on the road ahead of me signals AFTER he's stopped. Do people not know how to drive? You signal first and then stop on the side of the road, if that's your intention. Not after the fact. And this too on the bypass. Morons, if I've ever seen any.

And here's another...while waiting at the stop light in the right hand lane, do they not know that while it's green they can inch up and make their turn as long as they are yielding to oncoming traffic. This also means that they will have the right of way once that light turns yellow. This does not mean that they get to sit in that lane, behind the line and only make the turn when the right hand arrow is green and lit up. I had half a mind to get out of my car today, walk up and knock and give them a one on one in how to make a right turn at the light. I mean is this so hard a concept to follow. I'm sure it's in the driving book somewhere. Well, unless you're from a CERTAIN country where there isn't this sort of right hand turn at the light thing, and since you pretty much transfer over your license thanks to the Geneva Convention Road Traffic Agreement there by being ignorant of the rules of the roads of Cayman. I'm not going to name the nationality of this particular person but case in point, I was stuck behind them in traffic twiddling my thumbs in frustration. Do they not watch other drivers make that same right turn, and think Gee, maybe I'm not doing something right. Surely in this case Monkey See Monkey Do would work. Next time I AM getting out!

The village

You know that saying: IT TAKES A VILLAGE TO RAISE A CHILD? Well, I am a firm believer in that adage. That's because I grew up in India & Dubai where among our community, every one's business was really every one's business. Heck, it still is. Privacy is not a right, you are expected to receive comments on your weight, why you still haven't tied the knot, why you don't have kids yet...a whole lotta whys. And it's not like you can tell them to um...go sod off. You're actually expected to give them a probable, respectable answer, no less. But with this interrogation of a lifestyle, also comes that watchful eye over one's children. You know some one's watching out for all your kids, constantly correcting them, making sure they keep their hands and noses clean. No one has been sat down and told it takes a village, it's just automatically understood, learned behaviour, if you will.

On the other end, if you're in North America, it's the 'It just takes Mom & Dad to raise a child' philosophy. God forbid if you ever offer your two cents, you'd get a rude, mind your own business look. Even new immigrant families are quick to adopt this. It never used to be like this. I think it's the introduction and strong presence of Children's Aid and Child Protection Services (which is there for a good reason), that has everyone on edge. Parents feel that someone commenting or correcting or making sure that their child is doing OK, is proof that they are not doing their job well enough, enough proof to file a complaint to Children's Aid. Every one's on pins and needles. I was once at the mall and I came across a child probably no more than two, wandering aimlessly, with no parent in sight. All I did was ask him, Where's your Mommy? and I was met with the most ferocious thickly accented Middle Eastern woman who came out of nowhere and practically yelled, 'Mommy's right here. So what? What's the problem?' I was taken aback and walked away thinking, Lady if your child is ever in trouble, you're going to have to be a whole lot nicer, because Karma's a bi*ch.

I suppose it's much different when in a smaller city or town. Take the islands for that matter, both Bermuda and Cayman, where the 'It takes a village' philosophy is strongly practiced. While everyone is in every one's business, there's a certain comfort in knowing that children here are looked out for. Of course, lack of privacy is a high price to pay, but for some that is a price worth paying for even if it means that there are watchful eyes out there, protecting and guiding the younger generation. And while I cherish my privacy, I'd want people watching out for my children (when I have them), just like I have been watching out for others', backlash or not.

So, what brought this post on? Well, a certain tragic event that took place last week among the local Cayman community has showed just how much of a child raising village this is and how they are not afraid to ask the questions that need to be asked. I cannot go into any more detail yet but I do want to hear from you - Do you feel it takes a village to raise a child or do you feel like you should mind your own business?

Who you gonna call?

The one thing I can't understand about Cayman is the way the phone plans work here. Be it a land line or a cell phone, they each have calling rates that are billed by the minute. It's very similar to England (so I've heard) and of course, India (from what I remember from the younger days). Landlines here are about 3 cents a minute to call another land line (after the initial 9c/min for the first minute), but to call a cell phone it's about 22c/min. And this is all locally within Grand Cayman and the sister islands, so you can just about imagine what international calling rates are like.

While Cayman does have post paid cell phone plans, its minutes are peanuts compared to what you actually pay and once you go over your monthly quota, the per min rates pretty much end up costing you an arm and a leg. And so, most here in Cayman opt out for prepaid phones, which unlike Bermuda, allows you to call overseas numbers. In Bermuda you'd have to sign up with a long distance company before you can gain access to even think about dialing a 1-800 number, if that. But unlike Cayman, Bermuda's cell phone plans do incorporate unlimited evenings and weekends for an extra $10/month. This is virtually unheard of in Cayman. There's no unlimited anything! All these restrictions will sure curb one's talkative habit, but there are ways to beat the system. Google Talk and MSN Messenger sure are the popular choice here, because it's free. However, the one thing that Cayman does have that Bermuda doesn't is free incoming calls on your cell phone, which can be pretty neat if every one's calling you all the time. The less phone credit you use is a clear indication of how popular you are.

So, is there such a thing as mobile heaven? Sure is! It's called Canada, where evenings and weekends area regular features, along with free incoming calls, where there are no charges to call a cell phone from a land line. It's the best of both the worlds of Bermuda & Cayman.

Open wide

After a five month break, it feels good to be driving again. It helps that the roads here in Grand Cayman are wider and that the mini highways make the commute easier, because we all know how I hate stop and go traffic. Gimme a highway any day and I am game. And while Cayman's highways are not the same as Toronto's, it'll do for now. However, the roundabouts here are bigger than Bermuda's and that can sometimes be a little daunting when it's crazy mad rush hour traffic time - definitely not my favourite thing in the world. And unlike Bermuda, Cayman does not have too many bike/scooter/moped riders on the roads.

What is not uncommon about all these places (and the rest of the world) is that they inevitably share one thing - stupid drivers.

Your mom has an ipod ???

You've left Home to come here to work and reside on this island as an expat, but you've never really left home. Have you heard that before? No? Well, that's because I just made it up. When I say you've never really left home, I mean that you still carry it with you. Your hangouts, your routes, roads that you know like the back of your hand. If you're a woman, malls that you know like the back of your hand, and not to mention mall timings that have been ingrained in your memory. Frequent or once a year trips made back home will only reaffirm how much you have not forgotten your hometown and how these yearly trips home never really let you forget as you revisit your favourite haunts.

My mother is probably the most technologically involved female of her generation. I'm talking about an MS Office Advanced+ user, who knows the difference between Explorer and Firefox, who owns more iPods than most and is on her way to acquiring the new iPhone (apparently she can't wait and funnily enough her brother, UncleTigerBeer doesn't seem to get what the big deal is). Surprising, yes? Perhaps I take it for granted now, but where was this hip cool mom 20 years ago? Could you imagine the gadgets we'd have had as toys? Anyway, I realise not every mom of her generation is as technologically inclined as she is.

Case in point: a few years ago when I first mentioned in passing to my brother-in-law about my mom's iPod Mini, he looked at me with this shocked expression on his face and said (I kid you not) THREE times:
"Your mom has an iPod?"
"Yes" (in a matter of fact tone)
"Your mom has an iPod?" (with slightly more emphasis)
"Yes" (a little more matter of fact)
"Your mom has an iPod?" (with maximum emphasis)
"Yessssssss"
"Why?" says he.
"To listen to music." says I. "You know music? The thing that everyone listens to."
"Yes. Yes." says he. And then, "Oh." Like she's one of those moms.

Yes I know, I do have the memory of an elephant! Now I'm not going to give out her exact age, because this blog will be shut down faster than any one can say, 'Your mom has an iPod?' But suffice to say she's of the baby boom era, the LATE LATE baby boom era. So here she is, very computer savvy, knows all about MSN Messenger, Google Talk, Google Maps...the works. Oh and I can't forget YouTube. That one's her favourite. Not to mention iTunes (for how else would she be able to update her ipods). My dad's catching upto to her quite nicely, too! I mean this is what I came home to one evening after a night out during Christmas week in Toronto. Yes, they both actually have their own laptops (who needs a built in intercom when you need to get a message across while on different floors of the house - that's what cell phones and chat programs are there for!). But that's not what they're doing here. Here they are working.
So, for all their tech savvyness (we can blame my brother for this one), there are some things my mother will still message me (here in Bermuda) about my hometown that is Toronto, bearing in mind I haven't lived in Toronto for the past three years not counting the yearly one week visits.

Questions like:
"What time does the mall close on Saturday." (Yes, she means the mall by her Toronto home, my former place of residence, which also has its own website - the mall not the house).
"What bus route do I take if I want to get to Place X". OR
"What subway stop should I get off at, if I want to get to Place Y."

It's not that Mom's lazy because lazy is not a word in her dictionary, it's just that she claims she busy with other things. Sometimes I'll give her the answers right away if I know them or I'll look them up. But sometimes, just sometimes, I'll tease her saying: "You know Mom, I don't live in Toronto anymore. I've been in Bermuda for like three years now. You can't expect me to remember all this stuff anymore."

And her response is, "Well look it up. I'm too busy to do it. Besides, what else are you there for? You're my secretary."

As you can see, she's also a funny one. And since she'll read about this sometime today, first thing she'll say is:
Stupid Girl (with a slight Indian accent) Why are you writing about me???

And Hubby reading this will laugh at my Mom calling me Stupid Girl, since he's heard her call me that before and thinks it's hilarious that my Mom addresses me so. He's even dared to repeat it as he laughs. The nerve!

Driving me crazy

Switching between driving in Bermuda and Toronto and then back to Bermuda again is not as daunting as I thought it would be. I managed just fine. Of course, the weather is another factor in the winter. There I was during in Toronto during Christmas week, in cold weather conditions, where the car had to be warmed up before take off (thank goodness for automatic car starters), where I had to bundle up, where defogging the windows was a must, as were gloves. But where the thrill of highway driving was only all to familiar. I could let 'er rip. And this is what I miss most about driving. Not to mention the many many things that can occupy one's time, like people and places. So many things to do but never enough time.

And then I make it back to Bermuda where the car need not be warmed up, a mild summer breeze blowing in while you drive with the windows rolled down, no defogging of any kind required, driving in flip flops (the sturdy kind) is much more refreshing than having thermal socks and winter boots on. All good things especially done in the span of 24 hours. But I still miss the highway driving without having to stop and go every darn minute to get from point A to point B.

Which reminds me of another thing: Apparently Bush is visiting Dubai. My first thought was WHY? In the past few years, Dubai traffic has accumulated to an all time high, where commuting by car from work to home is just as big of a problem like in NY or Toronto (but at least we have subways). Anyway, Monday was declared a holiday for Dubai residents as many of the roads were going to be closed down. It was very short notice and while I'm sure everyone appreciated the extra day off, it seems like no one's looking forward to the extra twice as long commute today. Many a family/ friend have been complaining via FaceBook about the drive into work and the drive going home. Stay strong, people! It's almost over.

Imagine if Bush visited Bermuda! With our one lane roads, no one would be allowed back on them until he left the island.

The big seven

As tagged by my childhood friend and fellow blogger, here are seven random/weird things about me, MsCutePants:

1. When I was about 4, I was a victim of a drunk driving accident right outside my home in Bombay. It was my neighbour and only he wasn't driving as so much reversing and didn't see me, who was standing in a perfectly safe spot. And though I was critically injured, I obviously and thankfully, survived.
   
   
2. I have no allergies whatsoever (knock on wood) and have no intention of developing any. In these times, that's weird. Like my paternal grandmother, my blood type is a Negative something. Everyone else in my family is of a positive blood type. I don't know how that happened. (Probably a good thing cause guess who's blood I now have running through my veins. Literally! Lost a lot of blood from accident mentioned in #1, shortage of my Neg blood type at the hospital, doctors refusal of the bag of Neg blood type brought from the blood bank by my uncle because they (doctors) said they didn't know where it came from, Mai (grandmother) was right there, they hooked her up...problem solved!). The lesson here: be nice to me, you'll never know when you might need my blood. :)
   
   
3. I was a total tomboy as a child, insisting I wear my brother's shorts (he's a year and a half younger). There are pictures to prove this. People laugh at these pictures of me in all my tomboy glory, but I don't care and you'll see why when you read #4.
   
   
4. Boys at school (KG & elementary) were afraid to pick on me. I was not afraid to put 'em up and fight (word had spread by the time middle school came around and I had fewer than one boy bully problem by then). My brother would many times call upon my services to defend him against his bullies. A good yelling was all they needed (I was not about to pick a fight with someone not my size). A good reminder of my services rendered is all my brother now needs, every so often. Lest he forget!
   
   
5. I have no problems holding a baby but I'm hesitant to hold a puppy or a kitten, as much as I love them. Unlike babies, puppies and kittens squirm and I'm afraid, I'll drop them.
   
   
6. If I didn't have to sleep, I'd love it. No surprise that you'll often hear me say to friend who loves to sleep: I'll sleep when I'm dead. (You're thinking, who LOVES to sleep? Turns out there a quite a lot of them sleep lovers out there, who sleep when they're bored! And I know quite a few personally. I'm not naming names, BUT you know who you are...)
   
   
7. In my last and only year of high school in Toronto, Canada, I was called 'Paki' by a black girl, during the first week! I looked at her and thought: Is she kidding me??? I wanted to yell out to her that I was Indian, not Pakistani (not knowing that Paki was the derogatory term for brown folk and the equivalent of the 'N' word for blacks. I was fresh off the boat, what else could one expect). Calling me Pakistani was insulting enough! (Inside joke - the Indians & Pakistanis will understand). Interestingly enough, the black guys at school thought I was cute! Maybe that's what pissed her off. But seriously, SHE calling ME Paki? How's THAT for the pot calling the kettle black? I wonder where she is now...(and what if she's the same blood type as me, is in an accident of some sort & I'm the only one around to give her that much need blood that will save her life. Oh! she'd have Paki blood running in her veins!). Mwaaahahaha.... (we women have strange vindictive imaginations, don't we?).
   

Alright, I'm done. At first I was dreading writing this list, but now I realise seven is not enough. But I should stop here, any more and you who don't know me will be able to identify me on the streets of Bermuda.

And now the fun part, I now tag my childhood friends: 45Minutes, Rosh, Jenny.

the paid maternity leave controversy

Maternity leave is so vital & essential to new parents, especially to new mothers. But this varies among countries around the world. Maternity leave in the Middle East is about anywhere from 45 days or more depending on the country. I remember this being an issue with my aunts when I was growing up. They'd complain that 45 days was not enough. Course not! What's 45 days?

Bermuda offers three months maternity leave with pay across the board. I've heard of a generous few companies that offer even more trying to stay in line with their parent companies. But this is rare. Depending on the nature of the job, most companies are reluctant to offer any additional maternity leave, unpaid as it may be. This option, if it were available, is tricky for expats because of the time limit issues with their work permits. The three month maternity leave can also come as a surprise for some Canadian & Brit expats expecting it to be on the same playing field as their home country.

For many American expats, however, paid maternity leave is a positive & significant benefit than compared to their homeland. Surprisingly, America is the only industrialized first world country that does not offer paid maternity leave to its employees. While that is standard across the board, there are some corporations that make exceptions. For the most part, employers are unwilling to compensate new mothers or fathers for this critical time off. They believe that people should be financially responsible, prepared & not depend on the government or their employers for parental leave of this sort. This coming from America! Shocking eh, especially considering so many third world African nations actually offer paid maternity leave to its new mothers.

Perhaps it is for this reason that Americans (& Bermudians too) are shocked when they find out Canada's maternity leave period is slated at a year with the option available to either parent. That it's only compensated at 55% of regular pay doesn't seem to phase anyone a bit. Who cares they say - one year is amazing just to be able to stay at home with your baby & get paid for it even if it's only 55%. Fair enough. No complaints here.

However, if they're impressed with Canada's maternity leave plan, they'd be even more so with Sweden & Norway, who offer paid maternity leave for 18 months. Bulgaria tops the list offering its working employees TWO years paid maternity leave with the option of an additional year of unpaid leave. Now that's sweet!

links: parental leave rights

what time is it over there?

I have been very fortunate to have lived in four different countries by the age of um..27 (I sometimes have to stop & think about how old I am). To be able to experience different cultures, make lifelong friends & growing up with families that are spread out has been fantastic to say the least.

Two of these countries are on the other side of the world. Bombay was a playground for my younger years and the Bombay I reminisce about is a cleaner, less populated, child & environmentally cleaner city of 25 years past. During those years, I vacationed in Dubai, eventually joined my expat parents & spent my high school years there. Most of my high school friends have now moved out to other parts of the world while most of my family still reside there. Migrating to Canada in my late teens along with my family & spending my university years in addition to some more was also an experience like no other. Toronto is truly home to us. And here we are now, Hubby & me, in beautiful Bermuda.

So how do you keep in touch with everyone? Enter the internet, the age of instant messaging & VOiP. It’s always fun when you first get in touch with an old friend or family member whom you have heard from in eons. Exchanging information has never been faster as snail mail is becoming a thing of the past. The only problem is keeping track of all the time zones. I have at least four to remember, not only the places that I have lived in, but also other places where family & friends have moved out to. To get rid of the time zone chaos enter my own personal world clock which I am pleased to share with you. It’s also listed on the Links list on the left hand side of this page. So the next time I am chatting with family or friends, we need not ask each other the most common question that circulates, ‘what time is it over there?’

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