Welcome to the Eat, Shop, Play, Love blog. This is a writing experiment that aims to lend a voice to the millions of Asians around the world who have left their native countries to live their lives in a different place, for whatever the reasons may be. Read the authors' profiles here.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Una Ragazza on Love: 10 Years

On the recent 10th anniversary of the September 11 events, I was up late at night in the old town of Bucharest, catching glimpses of the newly inaugurated twin fountains on TV and hearing the reading of names in the background. Outside the hotel room, in the town square, revelers were drinking tuica (a local brandy made from plums), smoking and dancing to loud music from a Euro band playing on a makeshift stage.

Ten years.

Has it already been that long? In that period, I’ve lived one-third of my life to date and it’s been an amazing one-third of my life. The experiences I’ve had -- from the places I’ve lived in and the trips I’ve taken, to the people (and animals) I’ve met, the friends I’ve made and the things I’ve learnt -- so much had happened in this last third of my life that it would have been unnerving if it all never happened.


A local Bucharest policeman watches over the fun

I loved the last ten years. It is still a while to Thanksgiving but I was in a thankful mood today.

As I lounged on my couch while making myself go on a 60-second photographic flashback of the last 10 years, I decided I’d write down one memorable thing that happened to me from each of the last 10 years that left the deepest impression. Something to love even if it's just because I got to live it.

2002

Italy.

First time living abroad, and I couldn’t have picked a more beautiful country. 2002 was my eye-opening year. It showed me how little I knew about the world, how it’s never too late to learn a new language, and surely there’s more to life than earning a keep in a cube.



You know how it is with first loves? Perugia will always be that.

2003

New friends.

They say you make your best friends in high school and college. I made some really good ones in grad school, in a snowy town in the Swiss Alps. In fact, the Californian, Swiss and I skyped last night about a possible reunion trip to Africa next year. I don’t know which of these is making me more excited: seeing Madagascar or seeing these guys. And Romania would not have been the same without my dear friend M, whose hospitality and friendship almost calls for another trip to Transylvania.


Friendships sealed in cold, cold Switzerland

2004

Displaced.

The feeling of having to leave a place unwillingly is not a good one I wish upon anyone. For reasons that will take too long to explain, I left Europe reluctantly and moved to the U.S. I had really thought that Europe would be a long-term feature in my books but after about three years, I packed everything I could bring with me in my two suitcases and boarded a Swissair flight to JFK.

2005

So many girls.

My first job in New York, like the subsequent ones that follow, had many women. Lots and lots of women. Being in public relations, we are everywhere. Girls straight out of college; girls who had moved from other big cities of San Francisco, Chicago and London; and girls who had followed their banker husbands to Manhattan. It took a while for me to get used to having Page Six and Us Weekly chatter a regular feature in team meetings, and for low-calorie Tasti D (in the pre-Pinkberry era) to become a highlight on slow afternoons.


Before Pinkberry, there was Tasti D

2006

Never too old to backpack.

When friends learned that I’d be on the Trans-Siberian train for five days without shower facilities, the look on their faces was often one of horror. That’s when I introduced my best travel companion, the wet wipes. A month in Russia and Mongolia taught me that backpacking can be fun even when I no longer needed to backpack because it had been the only way I could afford to travel. It taught me to be resourceful and I met some of the most interesting people on this planet.


Not so bad: Cabins were clean, thanks to the provodnitsa

2007

Newly single in the big city.

I moved into Manhattan and rented a tiny one-bedroom on my own. Although I’d been in the area for more than two years by then, I was now single for the first time. In the big, big world of New York. It was a mix bag of fear and fascination.

2008

Undesirable men.

I didn’t know a reasonably small island like Manhattan can hold so many of them. Ladies -- what you see on Sex and the City holds water. And then some.

2009

The ancient technique of bonesetting.

Spurred by a desire to have my chronic hives cured, I visited a Chinese physician while visiting family in Shanghai. I had my knee “reset” -- without anesthesia -- and nearly passed out. The good that came out of it was that I could squat with my two feet firmly on the ground (I’m sure there is something good about that) and that I drastically reduced the frequency of my allergy medication intake.

2010

A place to call my own.

I bought my first apartment in the wonderful Upper West Side neighborhood. Everything in it is now mine to decorate, own and love. It’s one of the best feelings I’ve ever felt in my life.


From this...



... to this

2011

The jury is still out on this one, but if I have to pick something now, it’d be my precious little niece, Mini Ragazza. This first grandchild and little bundle of joy has changed the lives of many people in the family, but most of all, that of my mom who is watching her grow up in Hong Kong. The whole gang of five -- moms, sis and family -- is taking over my apartment during Christmas. Perhaps that would be a worthy rival for the highlight of the year.


Mini Ragazza posing with her first pets

(Some pictures taken from the Internet)

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Featured in Cacao Mag: Eat.Shop.Play.Love on the Subway



This month, Cacao Mag, a creative art magazine based in Sweden and Taiwan, published a brief feature by Una Ragazza about eating, shopping, playing and loving on the New York subway. Leave your metro card at home; have a ride on us.


The Times Square gateway to the underground rat kingdom

* * *

In 2010, inspired by a certain Julie who set out to cook everything in a cookbook, and a certain Liz who ate, prayed and loved her way across the globe, a Singaporean girl decided it was time to put on paper -- or in bytes -- the adventures that life was bestowing upon her. Roping in friends with a passion for the written word, she launched eat.shop.play.love as a writing experiment to lend a voice to the millions of Asians around the world who have left their native countries to live their lives in a different place, for whatever the reasons may be.

Having lived in six countries across three continents, she writes under the moniker “Una Ragazza” (meaning “a girl” in Italian) to pay homage to the first foreign country she lived in, and quickly fell in love with.

Here are excerpts from her musings on the New York subway.

* * *

eat.shop.play.love on the Subway

To most people, the word “subway” brings to mind a fast-food chain with a slogan to “eat fresh” sandwiches.

An informal poll among friends showed the New York subway evokes strong emotions, with locals calling it “dirty,” “germy” and “rat-infested,” and tourists preferring “overwhelming,” “confusing” and claustrophobic.”

I’ve a love-hate relationship with the subway. While it’s affordable, convenient and fast, it also drips mysterious liquids, reeks of garbage and bodily fluids, and is filled with grouchy people.

Yet, like most New Yorkers, I can’t imagine life without it. In fact, with some hand sanitizer in tow, subterranean life can be colorful.



The denizens of the New York subway keep it humming

eat.

In Singapore, commuter trains are squeaky clean because eating carries a maximum fine of S$500.

Without a food ban on the New York subway, evidence of the crime is often strewn on trains, platforms or tracks.

Oh, and the smell. From the benign to the most intolerable, here’s a sampling: pretzel, hot dog, beef minestrone soup, grilled cheese sandwich, sour cream and onion Pringles, and chicken with broccoli.

Every now and then, an irate soul loses it. This spring, local media had a field day when two spaghetti-chomping girls got into a fight with a woman who said, “What kind of animals eat on the train like that?”

A ubiquitous post-September 11 subway slogan goes, “If you see something, say something.” One frustrated Brooklynite took it a step further. He created Trainpigs.com, featuring those caught with their mouths full.


Do not cross the train tracks because of the electric current. And the rats busy scurrying for leftovers!

shop.

Subway commuters are often greeted by teenagers selling candy to raise funds for a school program. Nobody blinks. Not so with a former gangster-turned-author. Last fall, I encountered a tall man in dreadlocks with a stack of 20 books under one arm, telling everyone we could read his life story for US$10. People started opening their wallets immediately. Never mind if his story’s real; start counting the profits bypassing Barnes and Noble.


Selling spray-paint art at the Union Square station

play.

If you’re ever stuck in the subway system and bored, you may have yourself to blame. Subway platforms are filled with buskers who work hard each year to entertain the 60-odd million tourists and locals. Performance quality is high; to play in a high-traffic subway location, street performers must first entertain the Metropolitan Transport Authority in the “Music Under New York” audition.

Even more fascinating is a secret art exhibition space that “opened” last summer. Housed in an unused and undiscovered subway station four stories below street level, the gallery features street art from worldwide artists who are secretly escorted into the space and given only one night to leave their mark.


Remy Francois, the underground subway king from Haiti, belts out a song


Broadway ads give a glimpse of what's above ground

love.

Can love be found on the subway? Apparently so. Every month, hundreds post messages on the “missed connections” page of Craigslist New York seeking the “jeans guy with salt-and-pepper hair” or the “girl with gray fingerless gloves.” Friends of mine have gone on dates after locating postings describing them.

Not me. My worst personal encounter happened on the Wall Street subway platform seven years ago. Two minutes into a largely one-sided conversation, the guy said cheerfully: “I’m an underwear model. This briefcase is full of briefs. Do you want to see them?”



Tom Otterness's little people witness every kiss and hug in "Life Underground"


* * *

And so goes life on the busiest public transportation network in the Western hemisphere.

Game for a ride?


Getting on the subway at Times Square, the busiest station in the MTA system


The bilingual eat.shop.play.love feature in Cacao Magazine

* * *



Friday, June 10, 2011

Featured on the asia mag: A tribute to Ah Gong

The asia mag, also known as asia!, today published a posting that first appeared on eat.shop.play.love.


Una Ragazza enjoying a family wedding with her favorite guy

asia! is an online and mobile channel to original and insightful content about Asia by Asians. Using material drawn mainly from Asian bloggers, the online publication aims to "give a feel for what ordinary Asians are thinking, saying and doing, a glimpse of the Asia that lies beyond the news headlines."

* * *

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Lady J on Love: Roller Coasters


As a tween, I've always loved taking roller-coaster rides. Probably because mom always imagined it to be the dangerous ride at the amusement park. But there's something exhilarating about these rides, screaming at the top of my lungs and feeling the winds rush through my hair. I loved the adrenaline rush and that's how I wanted my life to be: a roller-coaster ride, an adventure that surprises you at every corner.

Guess what? I sort of got my wish, for my life after my mid-twenties was exactly a roller-coaster ride. Never a dull moment since meeting my husband, J.

Three years into our courtship, J decided to pack his bags and leave for Tokyo where a new job offer awaited. Things were fine and dandy but I wasn't sure if I could survive the long-distance relationship. I wasn't going to sit around the house, mope around or better yet go all crazy wondering what he was doing in the Land of the Rising Sun. When he popped the question before his departure, I took the plunge and said YES. Mom thought I was crazy to accept the proposal. I guess she was just looking out for me, for fear that he would have a change of heart.

At Farm Tomita in Furano

Thankfully, he didn't. Instead, as cliché as it may sound, absence did indeed make the heart grow fonder. Dates were in the form of online video calls and daily email updates. I also relished our bi-annual holidays to Tokyo that were often peppered with side-travels around Japan with J.

With my classmates from the Japanese language school at the local Hanami (Fireworks) boat party

After a year or so, we finally tied the knot at the end of 2006 and the life as I knew it was packed into 20-odd boxes to be shipped to our new home in Tokyo. My life as an expat wife began. I never really had to cook or do household chores when I was living in Singapore, so I struggled with the laundry and started from scratch honing my paltry cooking skills.

Snowboarding in Niseko, Hokkaido during winter

Ten months later, J's company decided to relocate him back to Singapore and so, 100 boxes and furniture in one huge container accompanied us home. Did I enjoy my short stint as an expat wife in Japan? For sure! In between domestic chores, I roamed the streets freely, sat around in cafes on the busy streets of Ginza, Shibuya and Shinjuku and marveled at the fashion-forward Tokyoites. During winter, I practiced hard at our new-found hobby - snowboarding.

Fast-forward to 2011. A new job offer in Singapore with the opportunity of a temporary relocation to Geneva came knocking. We discussed at length whether he should take up the offer as life back home was on track. Did I want to stay in Singapore and do the long-distance thing? No, for the 14-hr traveling would just kill me.

Do we really want to rock the boat? Not really, as we had just moved into our new place, established a close circle of friends, and were spending most of our time with family and our superbly adorable fur-kid, Sparky, whom we love to bits.

But I knew it was one of J's dreams to work in Europe, and the relocation was going to be for about a year. As the supporting wife, I encouraged him to pursue this dream with me by his side. But what does this second relocation mean for us, or more specifically, me?

Another turn in the thrilling roller-coaster ride, I guess. It would be a good chance for me to take a break and reinvigorate our marriage with more time. I traded my corporate wardrobe filled with frilly dresses and high heels, and reprised my role as a "domestic princess." Well, if I am going to be stuck at home doing household chores and cooking, I might as well give myself a fancy title.

I embraced my new challenge and thought to myself that surely this time round it will be a piece of cake, having done the "expat wife" stint in Tokyo. But it ain't true. I forgot a little thing called "cultural difference" between Asia and Europe. Oh, and let's not forget about the standard of living in Geneva compared to that in Singapore or even Tokyo.

Jet d'Eau - one of Geneva's famous landmarks

According to the Global Cost of Living survey 2010/ 2011 conducted by Mercer, Geneva ranks fifth as the world's most expensive city for expatriates. Tokyo, on the other hand, is now ranked second. However, having lived in Tokyo previously, I felt that the standard of living in Geneva is somewhat compromised.

Yes, things aren't cheap in Tokyo. A decent meal at a random noodle shop would cost me at most 1000 yen (USD 12). But here in Geneva, a simple salad with a drink at a take-out can cost me CHF 19 (USD 22). A bus-ride to town would cost me about CHF 3 (USD 3.5).

I felt miserable at the loss of my financial freedom and having to tighten the purse-strings. The loneliness started to set in and roaming the shopping streets along Rive lost its appeal after a while. I busied myself with chores and spent most of my waking hours in front of my MacBook, but I craved for friendship.

I whined about how miserable my expat life has been. Friends hearing of my sorry plight cheered me up, cyber-friends and twit-peeps sent me virtual hugs, shared their experiences and encouraged me to go out there and find new hobbies.

So, I did. I changed gears and instead of wanting a fast ride, I decided to go on a cruising mode. I picked myself up, made a couple of new friends and kept myself busy with new cyber-projects.

Is this roller-coaster ride going to be smooth-sailing from now on? I hardly think so, as we're still trying to adjust to the ways of living here in Geneva. Singaporeans who have been living here for a while tell me in time to come, we will fall in love with this city. I'm still waiting for that day to come, but I guess as with all great love stories, mine can and will be nurtured.

Our love affair in this new city awaits

[Photo of roller-coaster sourced from the Internet]

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Una Ragazza on Love: Four-legged Love



Dogs in Manhattan.

According to a canine version of the best cities in the United States to live in, the 1.5 million dogs registered in New York City live in the country’s top 10 because of friendly doggie day care, luxury doggie hotels, and lovely places for dog walks and to meet other four-legged friends, such as Central Park, Riverside Park, Lower Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridge.

More than 450 stores in the city cater to pets, peddling pet jewelry, clothes, pet food, pet portraits, spas complete with doggie cam, dog walking and veterinary services; whenever they can, those frequented by pet-loving celebrities take the opportunity to generate a little publicity of their own.

A google imaging of the pet stores in the New York City area

Dog of Jill Zarin of "Real Housewives of New York" fame looking "fashion forward in a Canine Styles Handknit Sweater"

At the Muse Hotel in Times Square, the title of “director of pet relations” belongs to a six-year-old teacup pomeranian who prefers Prada, ahi tuna and spa visits. Ginger’s favorite haunt is the “Canine Court,” a 15,000 square-foot doggie playground complete with an open field and obstacle course and helps dog and owner plan shopping trips to Tiffanys and Bergdorf Goodman.

According to the Health Code of NYC, all dogs must be on leash no longer than six feet in length. However, since 2007, certain park areas have allowed dogs to be off-leash during early-opening and near-closing hours. Here, an activist group celebrates an anniversary of the ruling

I grew up having no interest in pets. A goldfish and a rabbit might have made brief stays in our home, and that was about it. Because of the number of people in the household and the small roof under which we all lived, there prevailed a general familial attitude: “As it is, humans have so many problems. Who has time and energy to take care of [insert species of pets]?”

It didn’t help that my mom seemed to have an immense fear of dogs. Every time we walked past a dog, she would tug my hand so that we’d walk faster away, or go in a different direction, from the animal. Subconsciously, this pre-programmed behavior led to my own baseless fear of dogs.

When I think of my most memorable canine experience, I remember a particular teenage encounter with a terrier in the void deck of my piano teacher’s HDB flat (ground floor of a government apartment building) in Ang Mo Kio. As I walked toward the elevator, the dog which was unleashed started barking incessantly and ran toward me.

Gripped with unexplained fear, I started running, only to slip on a puddle of water and fall head-on into a sharp corner of a rectangular pillar. The impact knocked me out cold. When I woke up, I was seized by a sharp pain on my forehead, probably similar to that experienced by Harry Potter whenever He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was close by. My mom was calling my name, pleading with me to stay conscious. Minutes later, when a dazed me looked into the mirror, a multicolored bruise the size of a baby’s fist was sitting firmly on my forehead, with a darkening red line down the middle threatening to split and expose the blood clot beneath. In the weeks that followed, I would endure a mix of pity and ridicule from friends and strangers who asked for the story.

Yes, those were embarrassing moments. For years, whenever a fierce dog came into sight, I would look around for puddles and pillars for fear that a sequel might take place.

But who knew that it would take Un Ragazzo just days to help me overcome my deep-seated canine fear?

Coming from a family of dog lovers, he agreed this winter to dog-sit for a friend for a week. The third wheel in our relationship was a friendly, medium-sized dog with black, shaggy hair. Her most adorable feature is a small patch of white hair next to each of her green eyes, which adds wisdom to this already intelligent girl.

The first time we met, Un Ragazzo made sure he entered his apartment first and, as she came scurrying to the door, gently told her that there was a visitor. A nice visitor. The talk seemed to work. After 30 seconds of protective barking, Maggie calmed down and came closer to check me out. She did not make a lunge at me, but simply stared for a long minute before deciding that I could stay.

The whole time, I was getting flashbacks of my horrendous terrier episode from more than a decade ago, and my forehead began to hurt a little. “Rooted to the ground” pretty much summed it up.

Un Ragazzo persisted. With immense patience, he taught me Dog Handling 101.

“Get down to her level. She reacts well to that.”

“Now, make her do a trick and then give her a treat. She always needs to do something to get a treat.”

“Don’t call her name if you’re trying to tell her to behave. She thinks you’re playing with her otherwise.”

This dog has a character of her own. She would stare intently whenever Un Ragazzo paid me a little attention, such as with a hug or a kiss. It was almost as though she was jealous. She wanted to come onto the couch and sit between us. Soon enough, she learned to like me and we were playing hide-and-seek and going out for walks in the neighborhood.

Maggie pays a visit

Maggie frolicking in cold white powder

By the end of the week, I’d fallen in love with a dog. My first canine love. It was a strange, fuzzy feeling for someone who has never viewed it possible to have anything more than a play-toy experience with a pet.

My new-found love and interest in dogs naturally brought out the geek in me to learn about the various types of dogs. To that, Un Ragazzo was pleased to oblige. When the world's most popular dog show rolled into town, he got premium tickets to the Madison Square Garden event.

The result: the best Valentine's Day present ever.

Official ticket to the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show on February 14, 2011

Finalists of the hound group at the 2011 Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show

(Some pictures taken from the Internet)