A weekend in Baltimore

A quick train ride to Baltimore to celebrate Stu's birthday: oyster festival, roller derby hijinks, and just generally, slowing down.

Documenting a walk: Saturday

Walking from Mount Pleasant towards Dupont Circle, I came across a half-marathon: runners, walkers, cheerleaders on the side, music playing.  

I continued south.  My friend, Jess, was visiting from Portland. We met for brunch at Founding Farmers. As usual, I ate too much.  This city is serious about brunch. 

Later that day, I took the Metro to meet Ethan in the Noma/Gallaudet neighborhood - to visit Union Market. 

Ethan wasn't as enthusiastic about the place as I was, but this may be my favorite DC market yet.  It's a little bourgie-hipster, which runs in stark contrast with the immediate industrial environment. The pros and cons of gentrification aside, I confess I enjoy a fancy market. Now and then, I need to delight in (arguably) overpriced artisan pickles, good bread, and freshly-squeezed juice concoctions. This would be a great place to bring visiting family/friends.

It was 65+ degrees that day!  We sat outside, soaked in the sun, and watched many young families do the same. Once, twice, a bike "gang" rode by, dressed in costumes and obviously drunk from sunshine, reminding me of Portland days.  (Cue: Ethan eye-roll.)

But, the primary reason I wanted to visit Union Market was for the pop-up extension of H Street's ramen shop, Toki Underground. (Food occupies so much of my weekend planning.)  I once tried to have dinner at Toki Underground, but was told there was a 4+ hour wait.  I never returned.

Technically, the pop-up isn't a ramen shop, more like a noodle shop.  There are two tables that seat perhaps 6-8 people, and there is only one soup offering each day (week?).  On Saturday, it was a Taiwanese spicy beef noodle soup.  Freshly made pandan and pork ham bao were also available.  Other noodle dishes the chef has done: khao soi (one of my favorite Thai/Burmese soups), laksa, southern Thai curries, pho, even Khmer noodle dishes. Definitely worth a re-visit.

Good morning, Los Angeles.

I've been in southern California for a few days. It was pouring rain. One morning, I woke up and in those first moments, on that cusp of consciousness and sleep, I thought I was back in the Mekong region during the torrential rain season. 

This weekend was my sister's bridal shower and my grandma Elpidia's birthday celebration.  I also caught up with Cherlou.  She took me to Urth Caffe, and we had way too much good food (evidence, above).  Between bites of an incredible apple tartin, I joked with her that she would probably give birth during our brunch - she was due next week.  She didn't, of course. She apparently waited several hours because I woke up this morning to a picture of a beautiful baby boy.  Congrats to them!
 
I'm off to DC today, off to reality again - that is, if the blizzard doesn't delay my flight!

A visit to Baltimore

On Friday night, Ethan and I took the train out to Baltimore to visit one of his friends. We spent the weekend with him out in the countryside. It snowed. When we weren't exploring Baltimore, we made Cuban panini sandwiches, laced wheat beer with orange slices and cinnamon, and assembled s'mores with dark chocolate squares sprinkled with sea salt. 

The snow foiled my plans to dine at Woodberry Kitchen.  Maybe next time.

It was my first visit to Baltimore -- I attribute my only exposure to the city to watching The Wire with Ethan on our uncomfortable Cambodian ratan couch, in the heat.

A wedding

This weekend, we celebrated the wedding of two very lovely friends in a warm, cozy home in Mount Pleasant, one of my favorite neighborhoods in the District.  It was a small gathering of friends. The ceremony was informal, interactive, and quite funny.  At one point in the ceremony, one of the bride's long-time friends, a foreign exchange student from Germany who had stayed with her family years and years ago, brought out a roll of ribbon and performed a German ritual on the exchange of the rings. 

Married - and in Turkey.

We sadly said goodbye to family and friends in Colorado, said goodbye to the mountain house, which over the summer months has been surrounded by green grass and purple wildflowers, said goodbye to the prolonged wedding celebrations, and boarded a plane to Istanbul.  We arrived on day two of Ramadan.

The clock on my computer says it's 10:00pm EST, but my body knows that it's early morning in Istanbul. Sleep will not come. The morning call to prayers from the Blue Mosque--loud, reverberating in our hotel room--woke me up.  In the distance, I hear a cat meowing, the sounds of a car motor, and seagulls.

I woke up to my mind racing - to thoughts of our small ceremony, where Ethan's father played the bagpipes and, like the Pied Piper, led our guests down to the meadows behind the/(my new) family's mountain home, through sage brush and wildflowers.  Then, I thought of the beautiful words spoken by Jerry, Ethan's friend from grad school and our officiant; the readings by Cherlou, Eric and Nicole; the speeches by Latham and my sisters ... 

Looking back, a few days after, it wasn't a polished affair; rather very casual and free. And yes, I wasn't over the moon about my dress, but it did the job.  All of it felt so very intimate, with family and friends contributing in various ways: the bagpipes, our officiant, the readings, the awesome pies baked by my sister-in-law (we did not do wedding cake), the wildflowers arranged by the women in my family (though admittedly bought from a florist); my makeup done by my sister, Jack; the photography by Rhys and Ingrid; offers from CK to pick up my dress when it wasn't delivered on time; and, through it all, coordination of all the moving pieces by Ethan's mom.  Because of these contributions, the day turned out to be much more meaningful.  

Anyway, I'm sure I'll write more about the whole thing later.

But my main point this early morning: I woke up in Istanbul and suddenly became aware that I was utterly happy.  And if I've learned anything over the years, it's to savor times like this, to really grab hold of them, and maybe even to document them.

Final weeks in Bangkok

A concert in Lumpini Park and my musings on quark.

In Lumpini Park for an early evening concert.  

I live for evenings like this: a soft sunset, a gathering of friends, a sharing of food, music under the clear sky, the moon above, the feeling of grass on your toes.    

This reminds me of my summer days in Portland, sitting under St. Johns Bridge for Cathedral Park Jazz Festival, except when it happens now and here, there are maybe six nationalities represented at the dinner table/mat and a mixing of foods and accents.

Only tangentially related to dinner last night, is German quark that much better than normal cheese, or is it all in my head? 

Crepe cake and a new dress.

Yesterday, my colleague I brought Ethan and me to sample crepe cake at a small cafe in the Phaya Thai Palace.  I would have never found this little gem on my own - it's tucked away on the grounds near the army hospital of all places. The small cafe itself is quaint and in a well-preserved building, such a nice change from the shininess of Bangkok.

Also, I was finally able to wear one of the dresses I had made from the cotton fabrics I bought in Kolkata.

Bonne année et bonne santé!

My last images of 2012.

 

We've been to Cambodia and back.  We said goodbye to 2012 with a quiet dinner at Taling Pling with Gayla and then an evening on our rooftop, with glasses of red wine in hand.  At midnight, we watched the pops of fireworks on the horizon and the lanterns floating up to the sky.

The end of year is always a good reason to take stock.  2012, while incredible, was also incredibly challenging for me.  Apart from my decision to leave Cambodia, our move to Thailand, and our engagement, there have been many other encounters with change on various levels - and despite my dogged resistance, I see more change in 2013.  I surrender.

Ethan was offered a position in Burma.  A few years ago, I would have jumped at the opportunity to work in that country and particularly now, at a time where the political landscape appears to be shifting. 

But we decided against it, which still blows my mind, a little.  Navigating life's turns, the never-ending stream of options, our constantly-evolving needs, and though all this, the uncertainty has been my lesson in compromise.  Maybe that's what I took from 2012 - I learned how to compromise.

Block Shop

 images via Block Shop Textiles

I have way too many scarves. Still, this one is tempting.

Bangkok Markets: Chatuchak Market

Over the past two weekends, Ethan and I have played host to three different visitors, all friends we met in Cambodia.  We have another visitor this week.  (I am envious of the numerous Cambodian holidays.)

As a result of these visits, I believe we may have an itinerary down pat - and it always involves at least one Bangkok market because one of the most enjoyable things about this city is its variety of markets.

This weekend, we went to Bangkok's famous weekend market, Chatuchak Market, also known as JJ Market, a sprawl of stalls and makeshifts shops filled with just about anything you can think of: vintage clothing and furniture, young Thai designs, trashy tourist finds, used books, and more importantly, food vendor upon food vendor.