État Sauvage

an amazing photo exhibit by National Geographic and the Smithsonian Museum of Washington. It featured Vincent Munier and past Nature's Best Competition winners.

I love Vincent Munier's pictures, speciall the ones he and his dad made in Vosages, France; they are hauntingly beautiful twilight (or dawn) landscapes that made me cry the first time I saw them. But his pictures here were not that stellar - I guess there are only so many snowy owl pictures that I can look at - I am not a big bird fan, but I must admit, snowy owls are cute. Of course his muskox pictures were really great and there was also a little documentary on his muskox photographing project/journey.

The photos that won Nature's Best though were something - they were really really cute... a lot from Botswana and the African safari places... There were some amazing moments captured, but of course, I put here, my favorite species on earth - the cuddly little polar bears... I like tigers too!

bee mint

and I meant to say bee on my mint plant - my menthe de pomme, to be specific, which smells way better than any other menthe I've had. On my balcony...

Élixir

from the moment factory, a multimedia exhibition of lights, music and water fountains in Quartier des Spectacles... Amazing...

Raspberries

Raspberry season again... yep and gonna make that amazing Framboise Soufle I did last year... This time I didn't go crazy, well at least not as crazy as last time, as I did go crazy with the strawberries this year. These perfect raspberries, not too sour, from Ville de Saint-Eustache, a little north of Montreal.

LGBT Parade

It's that time of the year again... And faithfully I made it again this year... Not only because I get to see really cute, very kind-looking guys (every girl's dream, of course, only to be shattered in the knowledge that they are gay), but also because in general this parade alone makes me that much more open minded than the last year. It is not just seeing Stéphane Dion and Gilles Duceppe, but it's also about seeing the Jewish float, the Palestinian float, the bisexual parents and mostly seeing the spectators - a lot of straight couples do come to see this parade - I think I mentioned the East Asian couple among the 2008 parade spectators. I think it is really nice to see all those open minded people around me. Actually it stimulates my mind so I don't just go home and "se tourner les pouces" while watching mont Saint-Hilaire!!!

And then we went to Chipotle @ Jalapeno, where the food was nice and super cheap as long as you don't order the Mexican wine, La Cetto (Sirah 2007 from Valle De Guadalupe) which was really good, but a lot expensive. We had chicken tamales and chicken empanadas both which were really good. We also had a tortilla soup which I wasn't too hot on - I did like the broth and the crunchy tortillas, but the pork bits, I could have done without.

Speaking of really cute very kind guys being every girls' dream, I couldn't help but think 'isn't that every human being's dream, really?' and then I proceeded to think that gay men are actually the luckiest, as they get to pick from a pool of such people (trust me, such people are far and few between in the straight world, and that applies to straight boys and well girls, well I don't think they are very nice - don't forget I went to an all girls' school). This all reminded me of one of my all time favourite authors David Sedaris; he talks about his boyfriend Hugh, in his 'Dress your family in corduroy and denim':

On a summer evening in Paris, Hugh and I went to see 'The End of the Affair', a Neil Jordan adaptation of the Graham Greene novel. I had trouble keeping my eyes open because I was tired and not completely engaged, Hugh had trouble keeping his eyes open because they were essentially swollen shut: he sobbed from beginning to end, and by the time we left the theater, he was completely dehydrated, I asked if he always cried during comedies, and he accused me of being grossly insensitive, a charge I'm trying to plea-bargain down to simply obnoxious.

The picture ended at about ten and afterward we went for coffee at a little place across the street from the Luxembourg Gardens, I was ready to wipe the movie out of my mind but Hugh was still under its spell. He looked as though his life had not only passed him by but paused along the way to spit in his face. Our coffee arrived, and as he blew his nose into a napkin, I encouraged him to look on the bright side. "Listen", I said, we maybe don't live in wartime London but in terms of the occasional bomb scare, Paris is a pretty close second. We both love bacon and country music, what more could you possibly want?"

What more could he want? It was an incredibly stupid question and when he failed to answer, I was reminded of just how lucky I truly am. Movie characters might chase each other through the fog or race down the stairs of burning buildings, but that's for beginners. Real love amounts to withholding the truth even when you're offered the perfect opportunity to hurt someone's feelings. I wanted to say something to this effect, but my hand puppets were back home in their drawers. Instead, I pulled my chair a few inches close, and we sat silently at our little table on the square, looking for all the world like two people in love.

- David Sedaris, in Dress your family in corduroy and denim.

See I told you - even when they are insensitive they are still so poignant!

Ste-Anne-de-Bellevue

So, I am that person who will try and never venture into the suburbs, and if I do, I roll up my windows and lie low, I don't want all the hill billies after me... The city is where my heart is, but I think I will enjoy living in totally rural, the likes of Îles-de-la-Madeleine or Nunavut, but suburbs to me is that limbo, stuck in between, people afraid to live, people afraid to die, people just afraid of everything...

So when I make up my mind to go into a suburb for a farmers' market, well... as I later learnt, that's a mistake. So I have been following this foodie's blog lately and I thought she was good, and she had some 'what I can find in the farmers' market of Ste-Anne-de-Bellevue that I can't find in Marche Jean Talon' and then I read somewhere they are having a garlic festival this Saturday... So, off I go, with a reluctant friend in tow... and what did we find? Well... we... found... nothing... nope, not even the garlic fest! Ok, so the people were not ethnophobic like suburbanites are in general; they were in fact super nice and the tiny market of like 10 stalls was very helpful and friendly too. But I am used to Marche Jean Talon (I'll make a post of it one of these days before summer ends) and sometimes feel a little discontent even at Marche Atwater, which already has like 20 big vendors. So I was not impressed.

But we did comb the city and found this cool little resto for breakfast - Herbs (142 Ste-Anne-de-Bellevue) which was quite eclectic. They advertise themselves as 1980's San Fran cuisine, which I didn't know until just now as I looked them up, what more can you say about hippie? The teeny weeny kitchen was where the mama cooked and the nice teenage son and daughter served in the 10 table wood-floored patio in the back on the shores of Lac Saint-Louis. San Fran alright! We had antipasto sandwiches on soft fresh bread with an amazing pasta side with a nice vinaigrette and cracked pepper (I just love the bite of cracked pepper) and a black bean burrito also equally impressive with its grilled cheese top.

And then we went to this lock marina and watched some buffed men and women cross the locks in their shi shi boats. There were a couple boats that were ridiculously big, and every boat, sans a few, had what you expect boaters to look like - cocky red necks showing off their almost artificially toned bodies. I really really didn't like watching them, but was curious about the locks. Locks always fascinate me; I just can not wrap my head around the idea that some metal gates can hold such a lot of water in place like that - heck I have a hard time blocking the water in my sink when I want to do the dishes. But I couldn't quite figure out the purpose of these locks, as the water seemed the same level on both sides of the gate, always.

Anyway, we managed to get home before we became delirious... and I rushed to marche Jean Talon, just to get over the shock...

Moral of the story - do not go to Ste-Anne-de-Bellavue, ever... if you don't heed my advice and wind up there anyway, seek refuge at Herbs, immediately!!

Café Ceramic

It is this part cafe part cermaic place that you can go into, pick your own unpainted ceramic plate, mug, figurine, whatever, and paint it however you like to. There are these basic guidelines you can follow, and some stencils if you want and also some advanced guidelines for the artsy in you.

My gift to the recently graduated friend. That we did it on Friday the thirteenth, another story...

While we were there, I also got myself this cutest frog-salt-pig to put my amazing sel de mer du Atlantique in. Yes, there really is a difference in taste between sea salt and your Morton iodized salt. The frog turned out to be quite nice... I am sooo very proud of myself... now maybe I can kiss him at night and he will turn into a prince charming!

Nanook Of the North

So I talked in person to Gabriel Thibaudeau (of Metropolis fame, from by blog entry on that, for the uncultured amongst you *wink*)!!!

My fascination with the Innuit people and the first nation people in general continue. They screened Nanook of the North, a 1922 film by Robert J. Flaherty, documenting the life of Inuk Nanook and his family. For all you film nerds, it is considered the first ever feature length documentary. As a silent movie then, it has to be accompanied by a soundtrack, preferrably live. And like Metropolis, it was Gabriel Thibaudeau and an 8 piece orchestra, with two Innuit throat singers. The synchronization was not as perfect as in Metropolis, but the whole thing was a little shaky when one of the Iroquois throat singers showed up late, due to traffic!!!!

So when they killed a big seal in the starving winter months, and then they all started devouring it, raw, I thought, 'hmmm... can I do that if I go and live there with them?' after some back and forth I decided yes I can, of course I'll get sick a couple times, but yes, I can... it is like sushi... ok sushi with blood dripping... but I do love sushi so... But I figured, what I won't be able to do is, go stay in the igloo during a heavy snow storm and leave them huskies, them huskies that trasported us all around outside the igloo, with snow blowing in their faces, howling... No, I will probably not be able to do that.... And I will want to take them in, and everyone will look at me like I was some snobbish city person, which maybe I am...

At the end of the movie, this hippie walks to me and starts conversation about my photos and all, he says he knows the organizer and may he present me to him.... yeah right hippie... but it turned out he did know the organizer, I tell you those hippies... so I met some First Nation people, and I kept asking everyone where they were from and they were at most 300-500miles away from Montreal, not one from Nunavut..... after sometime I restrained myself from throwing myself at these people and begging them to take me to live there with them for like 3-6 months and see polar bears....

So through this hippie then I got to meet Gabriel Thibaudeau. Ok so it wasn't like MJ walking the crowds, even though for me it was like that - so he was pretty approachable. And when I met him, I didn't know what to say or ask - I just managed to tell him that I also saw Metropolis - he was impressed and he went on to tell me about how Metropolis was a hard project for him, as it was 2.5hrs and all... Anyway, it was really a cool experience - I can only feel bad about them suburbanites who don't get to experience all this richness....

Indian

Well... I am going to start writing about resto's I go to, just cos these names escape my memory otherwise. Now don't get me wrong, lots of bloggers out there keep dedicated food blogs, resto blogs etc with minute details of what they had and ambiance and all... I am not there... If this ever gets to that stage, I might consider moving this away into a different blog, just to keep my intense personal rantings out...

We were at Maison Indian Curry House, 996, rue Jean-Talon O coin Brinam, H3N 1S8, apparently the best Indian resto in Montreal. On a rainy Thursday expect to wait in line for about 15 min.s to be seated in the 25-30 seater. Small cramped restaurants, usually offer the best ethnic food... I must say the waitress was nice - I mean not above average, but I expected care-less from my experience at 'good crampy ethnic restos'. Ok it really is not crampy - but if you are in for a dress up dinner with plenty of legroom, well this ain't the place to be.

We had Masala Dosa Masoor Hot (that famous crispy Indian crepe with curried potatoes stuffed and a Thali (an assortment of curries in a little silver dish) with lamb curry and Naan and rice, and for appetizer Chat Papri (ever since one of my Indian friends introduced me to this back in Minneapolis, I have always looked for this North Indian saalad with bits of crispy pastry, channa, cilantro, sweet tamarind sauce and mint sauce). The Dosa was very very good, although the masoor is not recommended - too hot for my hardy Sri Lankan palatte even; the Thali and chat papri was very good too, but I have had better. The coconut chutney accompanying my dosa was a little too watery, but the sambaar and other sauces were good.

The two of us were seated at a 4-person table, and the waitress asked if we minded two other people sitting with us, of course we didn't. They turned out to be two Indian guys who made for pleasant conversation, with such characteristic South-Asian-man traits!! But they claimed they come here couple times a week and it is in their mind the best Indian resto in town - so I guess we didn't miss. "How do you like Montreal?" they asked these OMG-I-Love-Montreal us, this Brazilian-Japanese girl and this Sri Lankan me. "oh do you speak French?" "she does very well, but me, not so well" "oh of course if you speak French it's nice, otherwise you feel excluded" and I thought "but did you assholes try to seek out someone outside your very Indian circle?" but I was in a super happy mood, one of those moods when all your analities (I know it's not a word) seem not so important, so asked it in a more polite language; of course they hadn't and they were not going to anytime soon!!! There are people like Jacob Tierney who tried and were excluded, but people like these two Indians actually dampen the effect of issues like Tierney's.

Sort of reminded me of my hotel de glace episode that I wrote about earlier this year. When I started teaching in Minnesota, one of my mentors said "Students are like dogs, if you fear them they will sense it and bite". I think it is true for people in general.

Super cheap $23 with tip for two!!

Introverts

Ok... so don't freak out about the image... like all very red, blurry images in this blog, this too comes from my phone...

So... did I ever get to recount that I slept with a stranger, who was also a girl? And before our adult minds wonder into that beyond innocence (I use the term very loosely), I meant to say I slept in the same room with a stranger who was a girl, and we slept on two separate beds! there!

On my way to Sri Lanka this time I was stranded in NYC, for 24 freaking hours. This whole episode later earned me a $300 voucher from AA. But (isn't there always a but), that night itself was like Murphy decided to come a knocking on my door. So when I missed my flight close to midnight all counters were closed... when they finally re-opened the next day at 4am I had found another girl, Quebecois, who also happened to be going to SL via Doha... AA gave us each one night's hotel stay... but when we showed up at the hotel at 5am, the receptionist goes "well you have one night's board, you have to check out by 11am.". This other girl, in a moment of extreme genius, that I would not have thought of for the love of my life said "well I will use my voucher for one night and get a double room so you can stay with me; then at 11, you can use yours and do the same". Of course I said yes... and I must admit, I was prepared to share a bed, so to get two beds was a luxury to me!! And so we rested well and embarked on our new flight the next day...

My mom always says, "everything happens for a reason" and everytime we roll our eyes... But every time things do happen for a reason, I think of my mother's words of wisdom... If I had to go back, I would miss that flight again, and be screwed all over again by AA... She is a cool person to know... I mean I don't know *any* North American or European... no wait I don't know any non-Sri Lankan, with no ties to Sri Lanka, who has gone to Sri Lanka for volunteer work. I know a few North Americans who go to South and Central America... but really going to South Asia is a different challenge, harder at many levels. I know a couple people who went to South East Asia for volunteer work for the Cambodian war, but they did so when they were older and they did so with a whole bunch of other people from their country... This girl was 23 and she went alone!!

Back in Sri Lanka, she and I hung out, I introduced her to my brother and his girlfriend. She was there for an internship (but with no pay), but I thought it'd be nice for her to know a few locals; she already stayed with a local, who was once her classmate, but he was leaving the country soon.

We met for beer today at Vice Versa. We both had Clé des Champs from le Brasseurs et Frères (highly recommended beer blanche, if you are into that German wheat beer btw). But really the point of this post is not to tell you of the beer... and sorry for the long prelude, but it was necessary...

At some point the overall cheery she said "it was a little hard in Sri Lanka; I would go to my apartment after work and have nothing to do... I would just sit alone by myself"... I immediately apologized for my introvert brother and his girlfriend. She protested profusely - no one wants to be patronized. But so she would not think I was patronizing her, which I really wasn't, I recounted a party that I went to here, comprising entirely of francophones... and out of about 20 people, exactly four people made an effort to include me by talking to me, and they spoke mostly French. Later as I lamented the situation, I was told that the others didn't speak to me because they were shy as their English wasn't good, and lately I have decided this was in fact the main reason I was left out; after all Quebecois can be a little over sensitive to their English language capabilities and I guess like everywhere in the world it's been beaten into them that if they have an accent it is not good English, no matter how perfect the grammar might be. But on the other hand the 4 people who tried to include me, did talk to me in French mostly. But like I said at that time, "maybe they were shy to speak to me... but what they didn't realize was how much more shy I was that night".

Calling on all introverts: if your thought process permits you, please think about the one odd fish amongst you and speak to them. They'd be happy that you did, and maybe, just maybe so will you. In the very off case they turn out to be a bitch or an asshole, you still got nothing to lose - you walk away, and never set eyes on them ever again... Does it really matter what some bitch out there whose path you can very well keep out of, thinks about you? No! And no it also is not worth it, to punish the majority who clearly aren't like that... in my opinion!! :)

Divers/Cité 2010

Divers/Cité, the gay festival of Montreal, is not just about condom stands and two studs dressed in tight underwear next to a bed with the slogan 'jump in bed with pump'... it is also about music and art and just plain having fun.

But the drag queens from Cabaret Mado, I recognised all of them (is it disturbing that I am aquainted with drag queens on a first name basis? *wink* - ok I don't know their first names, but I recognized them alright!), were standing next to the adult video store with a hunk for a DJ!!! Oh why oh why oh why are all the lookers gay?

The bumble bees were running upto random passers by and hugging them and all. This one guy, another hunk, topless, stopped, with his boy friend. One bee ran upto him, unbuttoned the hunk's shorts, unzipped his fly, and made a disappointed face, put his hand inside, jerked off the hunk a few times, and zipped him up with a satisfied look. Oh yeah now he was alright, even I could tell from 20ft away!! :) The hunk and his boyfriend walked away, the boyfriend wasn't too happy obviously, but he did not throw a fit, not atleast right there!

And I wondered, what would happen if some random person walked up to my boyfriend and jerked him off? I like to think I am open-minded enough to let it go as a joke... But I am not sure reality will be that!

The next day one of my less than open-minded friends were going on a racist rampage on the Japanese people... oh he knew these for facts he said, one of his friends lived there for a couple months and she told him all these!!!! I had to tell them this jerk-off story and I said, had I been a tourist seen this would I had imagined that Montreal is one of those cities that people get jerked off by bumble bee drag queens in public? And I reminded him, for the more than 2yrs I lived in Montreal, it the only time I saw that, and it would be a little unfair for a tourist to assume that this is standard practice in Montreal. Reminds me of something I once wrote to one of my stereo-typing but well traveled acquaintances:

The problem with a lot of people today is that they have traveled the world as tourists and then they think they know a country, just because they were tourists there for one month.