Photo courtesy: J.J.H.G. Janneke Van Dijk — Wikimedia Commons
Years after I left Bali, I often wished I’d seen more of Indonesia. It wasn’t until well over a decade later, I landed in Jakarta with my nine-year-old daughter, planning to tour the whole of Java.
On our first morning, the azan greeted us. While beautiful, the call to prayer at four o’clock in the morning was not for me. Still, the thought of being in the second largest Muslim country in the world, was a new experience. Continue reading Jakarta→
My mother cooked like most women of her era: boiled cabbage until it was limp and colourless; cooked meat until the final trace of blood was drained and then cooked it some more. Her spices were limited to mixed herbs and Keens curry powder, neither of which altered her dull, lifeless cooking. Continue reading Discovering the delights of real cooking→
I’m sure you’ve been on public transport and noticed people with head phones stuck in their ears, bobbing along to a mysterious song. Well, here’s a piece of advice: don’t assume they’re all listening to music. Continue reading More on sneaky writer ploys→
I love the cosy corner of the world where I live. When I moved here, one of my daughters lasted a month before she moved out. Coquitlam was too far from downtown Vancouver for her; too dead; there was no Robson Street where Continue reading My cosy corner→
My once husband was Indian. For those from North America, I’m not referring to the mistaken name given to First Nation peoples. I’m writing about the REAL Indians from India. Continue reading Colonial colic→