Since that Santa Clause movie, everyone's spelling St. Nick's moniker as Clause. Clause was just a play on words that was introduced for that specific movie. I would like to remind everyone that its has always been and still is Santa CLAUS...
Thank you!
I'm back on the island earlier than normal this Christmas season and have brought back visitors with me, who are more than happy to be on a sunnier, warmer turf. And so I actually went snorkelling today! It was COLD! Of course, I was laughed at and reminders of how I've acclimatised to Bermuda's weather did not help. But I saw a couple of new things, not to mention some gigantic parrot fish. But the water was still cold. You can bet I won't be going in the water again until the summer.
As tagged by my childhood friend and fellow blogger, here are seven random/weird things about me, MsCutePants:
When I first began blogging, I doled out screen names for a few family members and friends. Mentioning them in anecdotes required me to protect their identities and so personalised pseudonyms were appropriately chosen, as I saw fit. Not long after, one afternoon at a friends place, we were discussing this blog and one of them stated: 'You need a screen name. We all have one except for you. So, what's yours going to be?' I hadn't a clue! Creativity only hits me in spurts and most definitely not when I've been put on the spot. And so after a few seconds (that's how long it took) I gave up and asked them to pick one for me. I happened to be wearing the Capri pants pictured here, bought right here in Bermuda. 'Those are some cute pants', they said. 'Well, you should be called Ms. Cute Pants.' I could hardly argue with that! And that is how the name Ms. Cute Pants came to be. (Now, don't you be looking for me and my cute pants. You won't find me wearing them around the island, now that we have this big reveal).
Off I went with my cute pants into the blogging world through 2006 leading up to now. For the last couple of months, I had been emailing family and friends my worthy posts through my MsCutePants email (to protect my identity, since so many of them kindly forward my posts on to their friends). I assumed for the ones that did not know about my blog, they'd make the connection, for I'm the only one they know that's in Bermuda (so far). But then last week, my very own UncleTigerBeer emailed me asking: Who is MsCutePants? I was mildly shocked. For one thing, he knew very well who it was, especially since he'd been reading my blog from the start. For another, who else would he know that's in Bermuda? I emailed him back letting him know just who MsCutePants was. Then it got me thinking that perhaps I should sent out a note from my actual email clarifying who MsCutePants was. I did just that! After which I received the following responses:
It is indeed a pleasure to know your blog name - personally! Now that I know who is MsCutePants. I can relate and picture you with your blogging.
There goes your anonymity...
I knew that was you because I remember asking you during a chat who it was.
Now I get it! Ms.Cute Pants always went into my Junk Email only to be deleted. Now we know. Thanks.
Junk email? Well, I never... Anyway, I was glad I did send out that email. And then Friday night I ran into a friend who yelled out HEY! MsCutePants! As I wondered why he called out to me so, he said he got my reveal email. And then the funny story unravelled of how unsure he was when he received my very first Bda Sun Blog post via my MsCutePants email. He wasn't sure if he should mark it as safe, doubtful of what would then load up, wondering if some one's pants were going to come off, (Well, I never). He did click on it and said he was intrigued by the posts. As he continued to receive periodic posts, he wondered who I was and if he should tell his wife of the emails he was receiving from a MsCutePants. He wasn't sure if MsCutePants was also a friend of his wife's. He couldn't tell who else these emails were sent out too and so couldn't tell if his wife was on the same mailing list (Yeah I know, I LOVE the Bcc feature). He ended up telling her. Her response was: Miss Cute Pants or Mrs. Cute Pants? Cute! I do know his lovely wife and the next time I see her, I shall ask her if the Mrs. would have made any difference.
For those of you who don't know me, who am I? I am Ms. Cute Pants! Stay tuned for my next post where I reveal seven random/weird things about me, as tagged by one of my friends.
Frequent elections are such a waste of financial resources that could be better spent on education or health care, as has been the case in Canada in the past few years. This is the only country that I can relate to personally, since it's here I reached the legal age to vote. And vote I did. At the Federal Election, no less. I was so pleased. I had cast my vote for the party that, I believed would do the least damage, all plotted beforehand by a process of elimination, for isn't that how things go in the political world. I had even rounded up the family, insisting that we all HAVE to vote. My brother stoicly refused, which angered me so. Arguments ensued. His reasons were absurd. Such passivity. I was not pleased about that.
In Dubai, well, the UAE, as expats, my parents & maternal grandparents had no right to vote. Besides, it was just a mini parliment. In actuality, the country is still ruled by seven Sheiks, one for each Emirate. Nevertheless the parliament exists to....well, actually, I don't know why it exists...
But India, well I remember while living in Bombay, when my paternal grandparents would get ready to vote. One of my friend's mother was a very active member in the political arena. If she wasn't running for that particular term, she'd bring around who she was supporting. He like her, like us were Catholic. Funny how I remember thinking: Wait, so you're going to vote for him cause he's of the same religion as us? Never mind that in hindsight this actually did work out. My friend's mom was actually quite the doer and it was whom my grandparents identified with, who they knew could produce results, when things needed to be done. I'm sure my Hindu & Muslim friends' parents felt the same and voted for whom they identified with. Anyway, the yellow voting cards would come in & off they'd go to vote. They'd return back with a permanent ink dot on their thumbnail right near the cuticle, of proof that they had voted. The nail that would not loose its mark until a month or so later, the spot would reach the fingertip's edge, only to be trimmed off. This marking process was to prevent people from voting twice. Your thumbnails would be checked. That was how it was done back then. (I was actually disappointed when I found out they didn't follow this process in Canada. I was really looking forward to my thumbnail being marked with that black dot). Anyway, when my grandparents would return back from their voting session, it was all hush hush. They wouldn't tell me nor each other whom they had voted for. They probably thought I'd reveal it to my friends or their parents. They were and probably still are firm believers in privacy when it comes to politics. And although I did have an inclination that it might be my friend's mom or her friend, I never did find out.
Come Tuesday, Dec 18th, Bermudians will be lining up to cast their vote for their preferred political party. It's election time. Now, while I won't go into too much detail here, as much as I have been keeping up to date with the news, I do have a couple of things to say. Bermuda does things differently where politics are concerned. The gloves really do come off and sleeves are really rolled up. And politics is very much a topic of discussion on the radio. A couple of weeks ago, an irate caller phoned in one of the radio shows to let the host know that she, along with the rest of Bermuda did not need to constantly have his political choice shoved down their throats at every opportunity, especially since this was not a government radio station. His retort was that he has been fair and has defended actions of both major parties, regardless of his personal party of choice. Her answer therein was that everyone knows where his loyalties lie and it seems like he's influencing his listeners with his political opinions.
The deal is this: In many countries, politics are not discussed on air, unless it's on government radio, or unless it's a specific debate between representatives of both or all parties involved. It's always just the facts that are reported because unintentional as it may be, it's a challenge not to cross that fine line, which inadvertently does get crossed, when said discussions take place on air. These discussions are formed opinions that many times blindsides the population into voting for someone just because they like the on air personality (as an example). That's my take on it, which by the way went through my mind the very first time I, in disbelief, heard this host rendering his political opinions on air.
Alright, enough said. I now end this post on a comical note, says a Bermudian landlord to his expat government employed tenant:
You work for the government, they must have told you who's going to win the election!
!?!?!
Quick! What's the first thing that comes to mind when you hear someone say MJ? Got it? Alright, hold on to that!
Being played on the radio at the end of the work day yesterday was a remix of Michael Jackson's upbeat and more popular songs. It made me smile as I have not heard some of the ones played in years. It definitely took me back to a time when my brother, like many other kids at the time, was a big Michael Jackson fan. Songs and concerts were taped and played over and over again (which is where I saw Sheryl Crow in an interview from those days as a back up guitarist - big poofy hair!) So yes, I did grow up with a good dose of Jackson's music.
Ahh the days before Michael became a white man. Which reminds me of this: after the liberation of Afghanistan from the Taliban regime, journalists flooded the country to capture its people as they were finally, after years of seclusion, exposed to the whathappenings around the world. I remember this one segment where an American journalist showed a group of boys a copy of an American celebrity magazine. They pointed to Britney Spears and asked them if they knew who she was. The boys had a blank expression on their face. Of course, they had no idea. How could they when the whole country was in isolation for so many years. They the boys were shown a picture of Michael Jackson and were asked if they recognized that man. Again a blank expression. They were then told it was Michael Jackson. The boys were flabbergasted. THIS is Michael Jackson???? they said. The disbelief on their faces was priceless. How can this be, they asked. Michael Jackson was a black man! (Hey! at least they knew who he was before the colour change). I wonder if Michael ever saw that segment and what his thoughts were. There! That will be my question to ask Michael, if I ever meet him.
And like I've said before, Bermuda loves Michael Jackson and I'm finding him played on the radio more and more these days (or maybe it's just one radio station in particular). Not that I'm complaining. I love dancing to his music. In between yesterdays remixes, the DJ gives a little rundown of the next set that's going to be played by MJ. MJ ? When I hear someone say MJ, Spiderman's Mary Jane comes to mind, and maybe Kirstin Dunst's face, along with the voice of Peter Parker in my head (and the way he says MJ)! Anyway, the DJ goes on to say: Don't you love MJ's music? I gotta tell you when you're having a bad day, all you gotta do is listen to some good Michael Jackson tunes. MJ makes it all go away!
I thought that was cute, and maybe a little funny. I'm sure 'MJ' with his current barrage of legal problems and bankruptcy would be happy to know that there's at least this 'paradise' where his songs are played on the radio almost everyday to take one's bad day away. Now if only he could collect royalties on that, he'd be back on Neverland in no time.
Weather permitting, Bermudian fishermen advertise their FRESH BERMUDA FISH sign in the morning by the road side and then go out way yonder to eventually return back to shore with all kinds of fish. Customers trickle in at around 4:00 pm, but not before the fishermen have completed the process of fillet'ing & divvying up the fish. Unfortunately, because of this method, the discarded remains, in my opinion, are a waste, that could ordinarily be consumed. (Unlike in South America and many other countries, it's very rare to have a whole fish served up to you, here in Bermuda. This is probably because fillets are what's in demand at the restaurants. They are the fishermen's top buyers, fetching them quite a pretty penny per pound.
After my trip to the Flatts Inlet (in the previous post), I made my way to Devonshire Bay, where I sighted a couple local fishermen. I always like to see their spoils and I think this stems from my young Bombay days when my grandmother would take me to the fish market. Spread out before me were Mackrels (Bangda), Kingfish (Surmai) and not to mention Bombay Ducks (Bombil) - which by the way is only available in Bombay and is the tastiest fish in the world. In addition to these, there would be racks of Prawns, Shrimps and Crabs. You know that fish market smell that most hate? Well, that brings back so many wonderful memories for me (yes, I know it's weird, but I don't care!).
Ordinarily, Bermuda's fishermen will in any given day, catch Snappers, Groupers, Breams and maybe a Spanish Hogfish or two. But this was no ordinary day. While I arrived a little too late, the catch for the day that had already been filleted was, get this: Barracuda! I glanced over at their discarded bucket and sure enough, there were Barracudas in there. While all I could see were their heads for the moment, one of the fishermen was kind enough to humour me and hold a couple up with part skeletal remains, so I could freeze frame him and the Barracuda forever. Well, I did ask him to and so, brace yourself. I have included this pic in the collage and it's not pretty, but what story is ever complete without including all the guts and glory. The fishermen also caught Barber Fish, which I have never seen. It was definitely out of the ordinary for these two species of fish to be caug
ht and readied for sale. My landlady, MsStopYourNoise, was skeptical of the whole thing, when I related the story to her. Only because she wasn't sure if many on the island actually eat Barracuda, especially if they knew what it was and was wondering if they (the fishermen) would try to pass it off as something else. I doubt it. Did you have a look at the Barracuda bait? It's at least eight inches long. Those fishermen were prepared, they were on a Barracuda mission. I'm sure its tastes just as good, although I have yet to remember seeing Barracuda on the menus here. I've had shark and it tasted pretty good to me, so Barracuda mightn't be all that different, right?
Winter has set in early this year in many parts of the world and Bermuda is no exception. But for the first time in a month, yesterday was an exceptionally hot day making me regret layering up while I was out. And what a day it was. Perfect for getting out and spending it by the water, feeding the fish.
Bermuda's fish will eat anything. I've seen people use dough and even fried chicken as bait. But feeding the fish is always a soothing and stress relieving experience, not to mention fun for the kids. So, if you've got left over rice or bread, don't chuck it away! Save it for the fish. And since I had some leftover rice stored in the freezer (especially for this purpose) a trip to the Flatts Inlet (which is also home to the Bermuda Aquarium) was in good order. The hot sun was just the beginning of one of my favourites ways to spend a Sunday afternoon. Feeding the fish was the other. I managed to take a little VIDEO (which of course does not do the actual viewing any justice, but nevertheless). This one features the most common fish that are always lurking by the docks: Sargeant Majors (the stripped ones), Spotfin Butterfly fish, Snappers and Breams. A Cowfish also managed to make its presence, but I did not move fast enough, what with the camera in one hand, the food in the other & me being partially distracted while chatting with some tourists.
As I made my way onto the outdoor Turtle exhibit, I was disappointed to see the tank water level reduced significantly, leaving me with no chance whatsoever of touching the turtles. But I did manage to capture some excitement courtesy of a couple of local kids practically ready to dive in and swim with the turtles. Stay tuned for more....
Grocery stores operate a little differently here than what one may be used to say in Canada. At Canadian (and I'm sure American) grocery stores, strict guidelines are adhered to, to ensure that items on shelves are of consumable quality. Ones that are about to expire are taken off the shelf and very rarely are they left there past their shelf life. It is because of these kinds of quality checks that I am not used to checking expiration dates of products I buy. Yes, I know it's not good practice but in my defence, I've been spoiled.
When we first got here on the island in 2005, we were told a very interesting story, a cautionary tale, if you will. One of Hubby's coworkers told us that his grocery shopping trip a few weeks into arriving on the island turned into something he could not have imagined. He bought the usual items, among which were bread, deli luncheon meat, that sort of thing. After consuming his homemade deli sandwich a few hours later, he started to feel a little queasy. And then it got worse. He had a severe case of food poisoning which lasted about a week. A quick check among his recent grocery acquisitions in a attempt to single out the culprit, left him appalled with the finding that the deli meat had expired. A year ago! And yet here it was still on the shelf, for didn't he just purchase it a few hours earlier. He said it was the worst case of food poisoning of his life. Since then he's been diligent, performing checks himself, not leaving anything to chance and has been warning any and all newcomers onto the island to his very own helping of buyer beware!
Now, please keep in mind that this was almost three years ago (where have the years gone?). I'm sure the grocery stores have changed and such a thing is not an occurrence (I hope). But I posted this as a tale of caution that one must take to heart no matter which island they're on (just kidding - no matter which country they're in). You never know what you're picking off the shelf. I still morph back into my old Canadian ways, but Hubby, ever cautious & diligent enough for us both, reminds me to check the expiration date every time.
Driving into town on Monday, I almost ran over two roosters. They were both crossing the road, not together because that would be too weird (no jokes please). One actually made it a point to use the pedestrian crossing (still no jokes please) & the other just damn well ran through like he owned the road (like some people). Damn things. I know they mean well when they say free range chickens in Bermuda but this is a little too free, don't you think? I'd cringe if I were to be a part of any kind of rooster roadkill because I saw one a few weeks ago and it was not pretty. So, what are the chances of one of those roosters being one of the baby chicks from my Oct 30th post. It only takes a few months for a chick to grow into a full grown chicken, right?
This here is called a 'noodle'. Made of styrofoam, it's a commonly used flotation device by practically everyone here on the island, especially by the adults who can't swim. I for one had not seen these anywhere else until I landed on this rock. Many use the noodle as an accompaniment when they're out snorkeling, or if they just want to relax in wate
rs off Catamarans. Exactly like the situation pictured here. There's plenty of ways to position a noodle against or with you to help you float. You can wrap it around you, sit on it or just hug it. Either way works. And depending on the position (not pictured here), it could also look funny (ah just use your imagination). They also come in many colours - orange was just what this Catamaran happened to have plenty of. So, the next time you want to waddle in the water, don't be shy to take a noodle with you. It beats wishing you were a kid using the kiddie arm floaters to indulge in some ocean fun.
Like the previous posts, I'm going to end this week's with a visual aid as well. This was taken yesterday as I was driving (Yes I was multitasking but shhhh). Riding up ahead of me were a couple of guys on their bike. The passenger had a child's backpack on his person. He's obviously not ashamed to carry it in lieu of an adult one. I wonder what he had stored in it. I don't know where else you'd see this. I mean it's a common sight here in Bermuda but there's always a kid present somewhere in the vicinity of the kid backpack. But not here! Really, how many other guys would be man enough to don on a kid's backpack minus the kid? Definitely not anywhere else!
In a world where, especially in North America, being politically correct is checked at every turn, there are places where this is not so much of a rule to abide by. In North America, the words 'persons of X origin' is not only becoming commonplace, it's also deemed as the appropriate term to use. But isn't it exhaustive, at times to try and remember the right vernacular? Why can't we just say Black, Brown, Oriental or White instead of African, South Asian, Asian or Caucasian thereby worrying about offending someone? When did things become so black and white? Why is it acceptable for a person of colour to use the politically incorrect term, but a serious faux pas for a White person to use anything but? When did things become so grey?
As a minority, a person of colour, I have no problem using the 'politically incorrect' word. No problem at all. Perhaps it's because of my minority status, that I can get away with it. And it's true. Hey, you can call me brown. I won't be offended. Heck, to make things easier, I use the word to describe myself. Most times I no longer use the word Indian in North America, because some will stupidly ask me, 'Native Indian'? Well no, because then I would have flat out said 'Native', right? Oh and a heads up to the family & friends back on the other side of the world - we 'Indians' in North America are referred to as East Indian or South Asian, not Asian - that's for the Oriental folk and not just Indian, because there are present a lot of West Indians. And as I've said earlier, it's very clear cut in North America.
In Bermuda, no one's afraid to use the word 'black'. Not even the white folk. You can forget about being politically correct and perhaps there's a reason. Unlike in America where the word African American is used, using the word African in Bermuda may cause some confusion due to the presence of African expats here on the island. Also, using persons of African origin can become tedious to say, just as persons of any other origin. Over here it's, Black, White or Portuguese (a post for another day-I promise). Or if you really want to get down to it, it's either local or expat (wink wink). Getting back to and when talking about colour, it's refreshing to just get down to the basics. So, what brought this post on? While at a book store a few weeks earlier, I came across this sign. Now if this were in North America, the sign would read African/ American or African authors. But here it is... They're saying it loud & proud.
You know what though - all this talk of colour is going to be moot in a few hundred years.
According to Russell Peters, we're all going to be BEIGE.
Salmon is hailed as 'the' fish to incorporate in one's diet. Loaded with Omega-3 fatty acids, it is literally food for the brain, among its many other dietary contributions. A couple of interesting facts about salmon: they are born as fresh water fish & migrate to the ocean, spending up to five years to reach sexual maturity after which they return back to fresh waters to spawn. It's said that salmon return back to the very place they were spawned. The unfortunate thing about this species is that most die soon after spawning, some within a few days, others within a few weeks. Such a waste, eh?
After the move to Canada, we began to incorporate salmon into our diet. Understandable given that salmon is native to Canadian waters and its consumption is far too salubrious. Countries everywhere are getting in on the benefits of incorporating salmon into their diet. And while Salmon is priced relative in Canada because it's a local fish, it would make sense that it would cost a bit more overseas. Definitely more so in Bermuda, (assuming this salmon came from Canada), most Canadian imports are even more expensive now due to rise of the dollar. But this much more? And for just half a salmon? I know it's fresh, but still...
What do we not have in Bermuda, but plenty of in Canada? No it's not snow, although it does 'lurk' in the backyard, the front yard or anything with a yard. It's something I've never had to worry about growing up in Bombay or Dubai. Something that we had only heard of, like a 'suburban' myth! Run as fast as you can away from it, we were told. You don't want to be anywhere near it when it unleashes its defence mechanism, and that was enough to make us fearful, if we ever found ourselves in its path. We knew what it looked like. Plus there were cartoon characters based on this animal. But cartoons stand for nothing in the real world and Pepé Le Pew is no exception. Yes, we're talking about the dreaded skunks, and while skunks may look cute (sort of), they are anything but. Beware of the spray, run away. Skunks are a common prowler in our Toronto suburban backyard. I've seen them many a time in our front yard too and have had to wait until it's made its exit. Sometimes for upto a minute. Shooing it does not work and I've never stuck around long enough to find out what would. One of Toronto friends once told me that he got away from a skunk Mission Impossible style, barely missing the spray, and then running for his life. I couldn't help but laugh while he reenacted his moves. There's no way to scare a skunk. So, what if you do get sprayed by one, accidentally? How do you rid yourself of that dreaded smell? Apparently, tomato juice, and I don't know who discovered that and how, but tomato juice is the only remedy. You don't drink it but rather bathe in it. Many times. Fill up that tub & get ready for rounds two, three and possibly four. Eck!
Yesterday another Toronto friend of mine said her cat got sprayed by a skunk. Poor Norman! (Yes, the cat's named Norman). HEY! A skunk and a cat? Sound familiar? This is exactly like Pepé Le Pew and his attempted daliances with a cat mistaken for a skunk, except the roles are reversed (maybe! we don't know if the skunk was female). One of the comments she did received was that maybe Norman tried to 'hit' on the skunk. I did ask her if she tried tomato juice on Norman & if it actually worked on animals, like it supposedly does on humans. She replied saying she used pasta sauce instead...and no it didn't work! Course not. Poor poor Norman! If the skunk makes an appearance again, they may just have to name it Pepé.
Do you ever get the feeling that you've been exposed to something new this year that while has been around before, just hadn't caught your attention last year. Happens to me every year. Mostly it's to do with spring. Every year I will notice something different foliage wise - a new flower or a new plant that has been staring at me right in the face, but I've just been too blind to notice the previous year.
Looks like this year's theme is festivals/ holidays. First it started out with Diwali, which was celebrated with much fanfare all over the world by people of all religions, more so than the years before. For the first time, I was privy to pictures, emails, wishes - ones that had missed me completely last year. Is it that I have gotten in touch with more relatives residing all over via a family tree project, that have been sending me Diwali wishes, even though they're not Hindu. (Not surprising, since Indians have long been celebrating each others' festivals regardless of religious affiliation). Or is it that people the world over are getting into the spirit of multiculturalism, which is such a nice thing to see happening.
We here in Bermuda are often asked if Thanksgiving is celebrated at all - Canadian (celebrated in October) or American (celebrated in November). We always answer with a resounding NO! It's not celebrated by the locals, just the expats, depending on their nationality. Or at least that's what I thought. Apparently, American Thanksgiving is celebrated by many Bermudians - turkey, stuffing, dressing, the whole nine. Even the tradition of Black Friday (the day after Thanksgiving, where rock bottom prices hit & shopping records are in the making), is a fever that has caught on in Bermuda. (By the way, can I just say that I am horrified that they call it Black Friday! Borderline blasphemy). Maybe having a car exposes us to a little of Bermuda's what happenings via the local radio stations which we seem to have on most time, despite the car being equipped with an MP3 player. Maybe this year we will scope out the Black Friday sales, just to see what Bermuda has to offer (remember people, it's tax free). Anyway, Thanksgiving may not be a day off in Bermuda but it will definitely be celebrated.
So what's next for me? Christmas? Hanukkah? Kwanzaa?
Riding a scooter/moped/bike here is the fastest, most fuel efficient way of getting around the island, especially during rush hour. Faster but not necessarily safer. There are many that are killed each year from motorcycle accidents & almost always speed is the underlying factor. A balancing act involving transporting things to and fro factor in at other times. It's always amazing how much you can fit in/on a bike. Groceries can be packed in every nook & cranny, depending on how creative you are. We've managed to bring home many an item of varying sizes that one may think unmanageable on a bike. However, depending on what the item is, it might not always retain its shape by the times its made it home.
This past Monday was Hubby's birthday and I set out to surprise him with a cake for later on in the evening. As I brought the cake home, I was taken back to our first year here in Bermuda. We'd invited a few friends over for dinner for Hubby's birthday that year. Since no birthday dinner is complete without some birthday cake, I had to go into town with Hubby to get it as I'm not one to get on a bike and drive around town (In fact I still refuse to do it). I was hoping the
cake would remain intact everytime we drove over uneven spots on the road. Upon our arrival home, we set the cake on the kitchen counter. I was pleased that see that it hadn't crumbled and that's when I noticed it was a little lopsided! From the bike ride home! Like the leaning tower of Pisa! Of course, I lacked the moxie to try and get it back into shape. It brought out some good laughs during dinner. In fact, it was barely noticeable in the pictures. Ok maybe a little! Still tasted delicious, though. This year I managed just fine, now that we have a car and I of course, have no problems driving a car. This year's cake made it home just fine. After all, a car is no bike. No more lopsided birthday cakes in this house!
Bumper sticker seen on a car in Bermuda: A day without sunshine is like....night!
How especially true for today!
If you were in India, you'd be celebrating Children's Day today. It's a day that's just that, a celebration of children. There are many other countries that celebrate Children's Day on various different dates, but in India, since 1959, it's been celebrated on the birthday of India's first Prime Minister - Jawaharlal Nehru (also the father of Indira Gandhi). This day was specifically changed & chosen to fall on his birthday, because of his well known love for children. So, what does this day mean for children in India? Well, it's a fun day where kids all over the country, who normally wear uniforms on every other day, get to don on their nicest (non uniformed) clothes for the school day. When we were kids, we'd call this 'coloured clothes' - a treat, only otherwise reserved for one's birthday! As I remember it, every year on Children's Day, we came into school in our 'coloured clothes' like it was a regular day , except there were no classes, no books, no tests! What we did have was a giant jolly big party. There were candies & chocolates, songs & dances, games & shows - just a whole day of fun. A day we always looked forward to.
America has been celebrating Children's Day since its inception by then President Clinton in year 2000. Unfortunately, neither Canada nor Bermuda celebrates this day & I am surprised. I think it should. It would be worthwhile to celebrate such a day as this. With the growing number of child abuse cases every year everywhere, a day dedicated to children, is a day that can make a difference to the very same children who are the innocent victims of today's dysfunctional world. Wouldn't it be reassuring to your child, to any child that they are being celebrated just for who they are & what they are. It's a great way to build self esteem, pride & create a common thread among children, regardless of colour or race. So, to all the children in the world over, HAPPY CHILDREN'S DAY! I hope you're having as much fun as you possibly can.
Here in Bermuda, Remembrance Day is a day of observance & a statutory holiday. Since it falls on Sunday this year, we have today (Monday) off to make up for it. Now I've mentioned before how the newspaper is not in production during statutory holidays. Well, last night I found out, the local news isn't either. So, no newspaper & no nightly news? How on earth would we know what's afoot on Sunday? Well surprisingly, at least the newspaper's website is up & running, with breaking news that Bermuda has lost the cricket match against Dubai, being played in UAE's capital - Abu Dhabi. I had no idea Dubai's team or more precisely UAE's team was that good. They beat Bermuda! Well, in the first place, I had no idea there was a match on. What am I saying??? It's cricket! There's always a match being played somewhere! I'm sure my father's watched it though & had I spoken to him last night or in the wee hours of the morning, I would have heard all about it.
Anyway, enough about cricket. Getting back to the lack of newspapers & newscast coverage on statutory holidays. The rest of the world should take a 'page' from Bermuda's policy of statutory holidays. This is how stat holidays should be observed, dontcha think?
The biggest change one experiences after moving to the island is that life is at a slower pace than before. No longer having to suffer through one hour (one way) commute on the subway but now breezing through a fifteen minute morning commute is just a breath of fresh air. And it really makes all the difference. Instead of catching a few winks on the subway, we have the comfort of our bed to indulge in that extra half hour of sleep in the morning, which would be welcomed by anyone. Suddenly, there's more time for everything else too. Dinner is ready earlier and there's even time to hit the beach, if one's in the mood. Sure we give up a few things when we assimilate ourselves into the island lifestyle, but there's things we gain as well. There's always a balance, if you know where to look for it.
I've heard that some people are allergic to bee stings. Now, I've never been stung by a bee (yet) & have no idea what it would feel like or if I would be allergic. You never really know until you've received your first sting. I may have come close to it though. I remember a particular incident with bees while I was in my teens, living in Dubai. Our third & final residence was a third floor apartment with an extra long balcony, that probably stretched about 40 feet in length. A few years into our residence, we started to notice bees hovering outside our windows. About one or two everyday, but their appearances were consistent. We could not explain it. Until that is, we (my father & I) decided to spring clean the corner of our balcony. Stacked behind an old bicycle, some boxes (and other things I cannot seem to recall), we were amazed to find a bee hive. And now we knew why we alone were privy to the appearance of bees. Unfortunately, we had to get rid of the bees, by a process of which I will not & cannot go into. I felt guilty enough getting rid of the bees. My father was adamant we get rid of them now that there would be nothing for them to hide behind. In the moments to follow, I was an accessory to murder, more like an annihilation. You may think I'm being a tad dramatic, but you'll see. To make matters worse, once we got rid of those bees, we were left with their life's work - HONEY!
There are a couple of interesting facts about honey. The first: babies under the age of two should NOT be given honey (among strawberries & peanut butter), due to its allergy causing factor. The second: its lack of an expiration date. That's right. If stored correctly, honey does not spoil & can last forever. I recently read that a discovery of an Egyptian tomb in a pyramid, also yielded within the tomb, a container of honey. Pyramids are known to be thousands of years old & the honey found in that pyramid was no exception. Of course, it was put to the test & amazingly, it tasted like a batch of honey that was extracted yesterday. A two thousand year old jar of honey??? You need a moment to digest that fact? Go ahead. I sure did.
Too often we look at buzzing bees with annoyance. Much too ready to kill them off before there's a chance they'd sting someone, not much thought is given to their importance & how vital they are. Of course, you're thinking the only thing they are good for is honey. That's what I thought too, until I watched a shot local documentary last night, on a new Bermudian channel - CITV (I promise to do a post on this at a late date). However, in the meantime, in short, CITV provides information on Bermuda & anything Bermudian. Mini documentaries are just one part of it. Last night it had an excerpt about Bermuda's bees, its beekeeper & the island's honey production. More importantly, it sadly stated that this year's honey production (harvested twice a year) was at its all time low. Add to that, there was also the finding that something is killing off bees & this something is not limited just to Bermuda. I had heard earlier on in the year that bees in other parts of the world are also dwindling in numbers, dropping like flies. Scientists are not sure why. The documentary further went on to say that bees are vital to our survival. Most of our produce (vegetables & fruits) is only possible with the presence of bees & the byproduct of their honey production which is pollination. If the bees were to disappear, we can kiss our vegetables, fruits & flowers goodbye. For first come the flowers & then the fruit & the completion of a flower's life cycle is only possible with pollination. Can you imagine a world without flowers, fruits and/ or vegetables? What on earth would we do? How on earth would the Vegans survive? Perhaps, honey may be the only thing we may have left. And thankfully, it does not expire. How ironic! I can tell you this. I feel terribly guilty, guilty for killing those bees, those years ago. The neglect of our planet, our wanton ways, our misuse of earth's precious resources, our pollution, is all finally, finally catching up with us. It's horrifying to think that the earth as we know it may not be around in about 50 years, at the rate we're going. Heck, I'd settle for 20 years right about now. The bees are just one chapter of this ongoing ecological damage, damage that may be irreversible. Who knows what's next?
Maybe we should start with the bees. SAVE THE BEES, SAVE THE WORLD (Yes, I watch Heroes, thank you). So, the next time you see a bee, what are you going to do? Please for the love of... don't kill it. There will be one less. Dangerously one less. The picture in this post is of Bermuda bees, hard at work (one on a flowering Cacti, the other on a Banana tree flower). How oh, how could we have been so careless?! And what are we doing specifically that's killing off them bees?
Last year on this day, Hubby & I were getting ready to watch V for Vendetta, a movie incidentally about the 5th of November. If you haven't watched it, I suggest today's as good a day as any. It's one of my favourite movies & on this particular day last year, it was all a coincidence really. We had some idea of what it was about but not the fact that it was about Guy Fawkes Day. I remember reading about Guy Fawkes as a child, fascinated with the fact that they'd in indulge a massive bonfire & burn a Guy Fawkes dummy. It reminded me of something similar, though set on a different day!
Growing up in Bombay, I lived in a neighbourhood of nine apartment buildings, with an apparent baby boom in the works during those days (must have been at least a 100 of us children at the time). And so because there were so many of us kids of varying ages, holidays & festivals of all religions were celebrated communally with much much fanfare. In India there are many festivals, as the government recognises quite a few religions which results in an abundance of public holidays. One of my favourites was New Years' Eve, where we children (under strict supervision) were able to partake in the largest bonfire every year & set atop it Old Father Time in the form of a dummy. Now I never knew where the dummies came from but I assume someone in the 'colony' would be kind enough to make it for us year after year. Old Father Time would crumple up in a blaze right before our very eyes, signalling in the New Year. The night also concluded with each of us receiving a party bag, filled with candies & mini toys. Ahh the memories! And while we'd get to stand around & watch the wood snap crackle & pop, we were hypnotised, for it was not often would we get to play with fire (literally speaking). Besides, what child can resist the lure of a flame. I know Hubby can relate - as a kid, he once set his carpet on fire. It was a small fire & easily doused when he realised what he'd done. However, explaining the burnt hole in the carpet to his parents when they got home was no easy feat. Kids & fire, especially bonfires, are like a moths to a flame.
And so! To my AN Colony friends...do ye remember those days? Thanks to the older guys for making it fun...You know who you are!
Guy Fawkes Day is still celebrated here in Bermuda. Not surprising, considering it's still a British Territory. I'm sure for many Bermudians, it's a chance to relive childhood memories & also to be able to pass the torch, so to speak, to their children. I'm sure I will get a whiff of one or two bonfires around the neighbourhood & I hope to scout the area for some photographic opportunities.
And last but not least, Guy Fawkes Day in our house is also known as Dad's birthday! My dad, of course!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD! Hope it's a fiery one!
It's still windy here & Tropical Storm Noel has been upgraded to a Hurricane BUT, its path has shifted more towards the east. That can only mean that it's farther from Bermuda & closer to the American East Coast. What can I say? The Gulf Stream saves Bermuda, again. A note to my American & Canadian friends, BRACE YOURSELF!
On another note, I love how the Bermuda local nightly news (obviously a repeat of the evening news) still slates Noel as a Tropical Storm. Understandably. I had to tune into the American news (more precisely Boston's Channel 7) to hear the update on Noel now wreaking havoc as a hurricane.
The wind is blustery & the windows or in our case, the sliding doors have been rattling since last night. It's a sound we haven't quite heard all through the summer months, until now. Time to put everything away. Just as Bermuda's hurricane season comes to a close with no reportings for this year, we now have to prepare for our first, Tropical Storm Noel, expected to reach its closest point of approach by Saturday. Luckily all we're going to get are the remnants of the storm, but that means we're still going to be hit with a lot of rain, gale force winds, rough waves, that sort of thing. Grrr! This weekend is definitely shot to hell.
This summer, a couple of our friends left Bermuda to repatriate back home to Canada. Their summer was going to be consumed by their wedding, a three month honeymoon to various many countries around the world & finally settling down in Canada at the end of the year. All good stuff.
So, it was during the summer that we were helping our friends transport some of their belongings to be shipped, ones they could not bear to leave behind on the island. We made way for the Cargo Terminal at the Airport & for anyone that doesn't know, this is where you go to if you were to send or receive any shipments. We arrived closer to the lunch hour. Definitely the wrong time to get any sort of personal shipping done, as the cargo area was abuzz with Bermuda's businesses waiting in line to pick up their shipments. Ev
erything from perishables food items to flowers from Holland to non perishables were slowly being carted out & deposited into the appropriate vans. And so while we waited our turn, our attention turned to the little cargo that had just been deposited at the entrance, awaiting pick up. Baby Chicks! A few hundreds of them chirping away, waiting to be let out no doubt. After a few inquiries we found out these were destined to roam the island to fulfill their destiny as free range chickens. What happens to them once they're grown is another story. But hey, at least they get to reach adulthood (they've probably grown by now). I managed to get a closeup shot with my camera phone. Adorable, aren't they???
Fast forward to a couple of days ago when said friends posted one of the following pics on their album from their ongoing three month honeymoon. Taken in Thailand, this picture is heartbreaking. Inhumane, insane, disgusting are some of the other words I could use to describe it as well. It's a dish of chickens but not the kind you would expect. BRACE YOURSELF! It's a dish of baby chicks that were apparently deep fried, but first thrown in alive. If you're brave, then go ahead & click on the picture. Of course, our friends were just as disgusted. How on earth can anyone eat baby chicks? Are these people blind? Do they not see how adorable baby chicks are? And what I can't understand is, with Thailand being agriculturally blessed with abundant fertile land, is there really a need to resort to the kind of food shown & mentioned here. Apparently, deep fried maggots were al
so on the menu. Circle of life! Or maybe a case of vengeance? That's all I'm going to say about that. What on earth are they eating over there? My parents visited Thailand way back when & never said a peep about this sort of cuisine. Perhaps I should ask again since they may have wanted to spare us kids unnecessary grief. And according to our friends, China is not any better (worse in fact) & I am loath to go into any details, but I will say this: Sometimes you hear about these things offhand, but are reluctant to believe it, just because it sounds unbelievable. Well, not anymore, here are pictures & first hand experiences to prove this.
Years ago before, when we first started dating, Hubby had this friend who would constantly hound him. She was crushing on him big time, but he didn't reciprocate. No chemistry, he said. Still she persisted. So, to get her off his back he finally gave her his phone number when she asked him again for the millionth time. He told her it was Nine Six Seven - Eleven Eleven! Now Torontonians, you SHOULD recognize this number & by now have the jingle in your head! It was the number of Ontario's #1 Pizza Restaurant. And like a fool she called & actually told him the next day that Pizza Pizza picked up! True story! Ha I never did like her. Anyway, we're now moving onto pizza.
Remember when you were back home, before you moved to Bermuda, & you'd order a pizza & get it delivered to your home? Remember the ease & convenience. Not to mention the delivery cost that was next to nothing & that if it wasn't at your home in 40 minutes, it was free! Remember that?
Well, then you land on this island & on one night decide to order in a pizza or two. Let's stick with one for now. Hey, the price point is decent, considering it's Bermuda. Then you're given the option for pick up or delivery. Ah, what the heck you say, let's get it delivered. There's no way I'm going to manage that pizza on the scooter. Delivery it is.
Forty minutes later the doorbell rings with your much awaited smell good pizza. You're given the bill & as your reach for your wallet, your eyes land on the amount due. Your eyes then manage to not pop out of your head completely because you can't believe the price. It's fifty frigging bucks! Yeah $50.00 for a pizza. That's right, ONE pizza. They didn't accidentally bill you for two or three, just one! Know what pushed it way over the edge? That's right, the delivery! (Remember folks, everything in Bermuda that involves labour is going to cost you a mighty penny, or in this case, 500 pennies). Damn this to hell, you mutter & reluctantly hand over more cash than you anticipated parting with. This better be one good pizza! Why the hell didn't the delivery guy take longer than 40 minutes & why don't they have that '40 minutes or it's free' offer here? This is where it would be very much welcomed. You can bet you're never going to get a pizza home delivered again. You'll have no problem going down there & getting it yourself all the while performing a balancing act on the scooter, but you'll never ever order in again!
This didn't really happen to us, thankfully we were forewarned when we got here. And so now I'm passing it on. Consider yourself warned!
On another note, the pizzas here are really good. Try Upper Crust & Speciality Inn (Yes that's how it's spelled!).
What drives me absolutely INSANE is when people stop their cars right smack in the middle of nowhere & everywhere to chit chat with someone they see. This has been happening a lot of late. Right in the middle of traffic. Rush hour traffic. Often times there's not room to pass them, what with the oncoming traffic and all. Do these people not get that it's one lane roads here in Bermuda? ONE LANE ROADS PEOPLE! Call them on the phone & catch up later. Get a move on! Sheesh!
