FUNNYACCENT

Sometimes the Right Word Is Not Always Right

Five minutes after we left a HIV Coordinator meeting site near Back Bay, Hannah and I stood on the sidewalk at a junction between Arlington Street and Columbus Avenue trying to convince each other a better way to get to Yawkey Building at Boston Medical Center.

"Are you sure we can walk to BMC from here?" Hannah was skeptical because she'd rather drives around the block for thirty minutes looking for parking spot than walking for five or ten minutes to get to her destinations.

"Yes, it 's just around the corner. It's an insane to drive in this beautiful weather." I think I've become like most of the people here who prefer to walk when they say, just around the corner.

Don't expect you'll see the address written on a piece of the paper in your hand, just around the corner. Sometimes it takes more than two or three corners to get to your destination. But for a person like me and everybody else who loves walking and exploring the streets and alleys, the phrase: it's right there, just around the corner, less then five minutes walk , it's not far and my favorite phrase is before you can blink your eyes should not to be taken seriously if you hate walking.

I took Hannah through the short cuts and narrow streets she never passed through before. Along Harrison Avenue, she was surprised to see an old rundown building she used to get a slice of pizza was long gone. A construction of high rise condo is taking place.

When we got to East Newton Street, I was convinced taking a pedestrian walkway between Solomon Carter Fuller Mental Health Center and Evans builidng was the fastest way to get to Yawkey.

Hannah stopped a bearded tall man in a bomber jacket to ask the quickest way to Yawkey Center.

"You see that yellow sign? The man pointed to a neon green hexagon sign about 20 feet ahead of us, "walk past the sign and turn to the left. You won't miss it."

"It is a neon green, not yellow." Hannah corrected the man.

An offended expression drawn all over the man's face.

"Please forgive her, she forgot to take her medication this morning." I gently pulled Hannah along and thanked the man. I was trying very hard to hold my laughter when I looked at the man's expression.

I burst out laughing as soon as the man turned around the corner and Hannah gently tugged my backpack.

"Are you laughing at me, Ana?"

I shook my head,"Do you know why we get along so well? We always say the silly things at the right times.The man was giving us a direction and you were trying to correct his color chart."

Skipping Gym for Karipap

This morning I did something I haven't done for a long time, I skipped the gym, made myself a small batch of karipap, currypuff. I prepared the inti, filling last night from my mother's recipe: cubed sweet potatoes, chopped onions, a half teaspoon of ground fennel, ground cardamom, pureed garlic and fresh ginger, ground black pepper and a pinch of salt.

I took a short cut to make the pastry though. I bought a ready made wanton wrapper . Of course the result was not as divine as homemade pastry: 1:1 of flour and water: flour and butter.

By the time I got down to six wrappers , I became impatient to get it over with, I'd just dump the filling and folded the four ends together.

Yesterday, after the gym, a couple of women from the gym asked me to join the stop the war peaceful protest at Boston Common. Why not?

When we got there, peace activist, Cindy Sheehan had just stepped off the podium. We missed her speech, but there was a huge crowd and full of positive atmosphere.

Spring Is Here

Every week each counselor presents a paper of her/his most challenging or chosen client during weekly clinical issues meeting. Counselor reveals all aspects (cognitive, mental, behavioral and social skills) except client's name. The respective counselor shares with the rest of us (8),  the challenges, the developments and any other relevant topics.

I like this supportive meeting because you get the ideas and feedbacks from other counselors, a Clinical Director and a Clinician.  It is amazing how a simple idea or feedback when it is implemented, the changes in clients is all positive.

It doesn't mean we don't get a continous resistance from some of the Residents.  They they enter The House, they bring with them the streets smart andmentality, prisons skills and mentality and tons of baggages and a foot thick of walls around them. The hardest part for some of us is to gain a trust which they do not have in the first place due to their past experiences.

But for the past weeks, my life have been colored (I'm using Pak Idris's term: colored life) with amazing characters and personalities of men, gay men and transgender persons who accept me with their open arms. I'm grateful.

As for the weather, it's getting better and better. I've started to put aside my heavy jackets for dry cleaning and perhaps I should go through my closets to dig out my batik wraps this weekend.

Think Outside Your Plate

Thank you to my divine cyber sister Nina who shares her  passion in cooking with her readers from her kitchen in Amsterdam.

In January, she prepared Roasted Fennel served on wholewheat spaghetti with  tomato cream sauce. While Nina's taste-bud on fennel a cross between licorice and cabbage, I taste fennel (it is called anise here)a cross between licorice and celery.

Last week was the second time I had fennel. The first time was when I substituted celery to fennel when I prepared red split peas soup. It was late Sunday afternoon, and I didn't like any of those bruised and tired looking celery. I picked up fennel bulb which looked eager, unscratched and unbruised. And it was heavenly zesty in the soup.

I like to think myself as food adventurer. I don't hesitate to try new food as long as they don't attack me. But sometimes a whiff of scented morning breeze, the sound of crunched snow under my feet or a line or two from the blog across the water that tickled my taste-buds.

On Saturday, after the gym, I took a subway to Central Square to get my hair trimmed. I ran into a classmate from college when I stopped at Rodney. I invited her for lunch. When I told her was going to have fennel for lunch, she had her green eyes wide opened. "What are we waiting for, lets get going."

We had tricolor pasta with roasted fennel, tofu, red bell pepper and boiled quail eggs. I also prepared sweet potato and apple stew.

I am on Top of the Hill, and Now What?

Somehow the word leaked out. During the group meeting, we sat in cirlce, The Residents, 26 men aged between 20-51 sang me a birthday song. When the song ended, I leaned forward and blew the invisible 50 candles on an invisible birthday cake.

I held my tears. The best birthday I've ever had.

Looking for Goat's Milk

I was wondering around my oldest sister's front yard with my camera when my 23 year old nephew said, "Mak Njang nak tengok susu kambing?" - You want to see the goat's milk? as he got into his family's car.

"Where?" I looked around my sister's scattered yard. I didn't hear the sound of goats, but I knew they used to raised some.

"Near limau purut (Kaffir lime) tree," and he was gone. There were three shady and huge kaffir lime plants and like an idiot I snooped around and under the thorny branches looking for spilled goat's milk. Where was it? I didn't see any spilled goat's milk on the ground.

Since we arrived an hour ago I didn't hear the sound of goats either. What was he talking about? And who spilled the milk on the ground? And who milked the goats?

After a fruitless search, or should I say milkless search, I gave up. I went up to the back door and told   my oldest sister, KC about my quest.

"Ameh told me to look for goat's milk. I couldn't find it. And who spilled the goat's milk on the ground anyway?"

KC was at the kitchen sink gutting a humongous catfish. She looked at me and broke into huge grin.

She turned to her youngest daughter, Bila, who already had her hand over her mouth to cover laughter, to show me goat's milk.

"What is going on?" Somehow I got a feeling, this goat milk business was more than goat or milk.

We walked to the front yard and came to stop at the three foot height plant. She lifted one of a hairy leaves and there was hanging susu kambing -goat's milk.

"Aaahhhhhhh...I see now why it is called susu kambing."

We heard Ameh drove in.

"Ameh, come over here." I waved at Ameh.

"You found susu kambing?"

"Well, after all the snooping and a good laugh from your mother and your sister. It should be called tetek kambing, (goat's breast) and not susu kambing."

My nephew was a fair young man. He blushed furiously at the word tetek: breast.

"But everybody calls susu kambing."

"Because everybody thinks tetek is an inappropriate word which is not. I got two breasts, you got two breasts, Bila got two breats and everybody else got two."

The crimson crept up to his ears. He looked down at his feet. Bila scratched her cheeks and pulled her long braided hair.

I hope I answered Ben Gregory's curiousity, but unfortunately I don't remember what was it for.

Hop, Walk and Learn

I had an interesting conversation with an evening counselor before I left work . Since day one I've made an effort to get out of his way because he is one of those people who likes to analyze every single word you say. Using big words to make a simple statement is his passion.

I've noticed a few times a bored or sometimes "Dude, I don't have a freaking idea what the heck you are talking about," expressions by the men during the group meetings.

My father used to say if you could touch the left side of your nose by bringing up your right hand, why bother to twist your right arm through the back of your head to touch the left side of your nose?

What puzzled me was his remark when we officially were introduced on my first day there.

"So, you're the one who's going to make this place better."

I said, "I've heard a great things about this place, I'm sure you and everybody else have been doing a wonderful job". "

I didn't remember his response because one of the men came in to ask for a controlled medication kept in a safety cabinet.

Later, when I was at my desk, putting away some of old papers and documents, he walked behind my chair to reach to steel cabinets.

He said,"Excuse me sir," I have a very short hair, but no one ever addressed me as a man before. I wore a brown knee length wool skirt that day.

I stood up and turned around to face him, "Excuse me, why do you address me as a sir?"

"In the army we address a woman officer as sir."

"Ohh.......I'm sorry ma'am, I must be in the wrong the department". We eyed each other for full  10 seconds (and my neck hurt because he's about 9 inches taller than me).

He turned to grab a couple of files from the first drawer. With his back toward he said. "I'm sorry if I offended you, but I've been here long enough (he started  his job four months ago) to identify all the characters of these men. They are basically....................................."

He went on an on about his credibility and his expert working with the residents for about five minutes. He used all the fancy and sophisticated words, I didn't even know some of them.

ohmigod, this is the first time I come face to face with a real asshole. How am I to get out of here?should I excuse myself and tell him I need some fresh air?

That was exactly I told him (the part I need a fresh air )before I went out and stood on the red stairs. I took a very deep breath, counted the cars until I reached 50 and went back in.

I never experienced anything like it before. His actions puzzled me, but I didn't let it bother me. This is must be one of the challenges at work, I figured.

And today, all the staff were all gone, and he had two of his clients he had to transfer their files to me.

Everything went pretty well, when at one point he was explaining to me in detail about client MX difficult and hostile behavior.

"Are you following me?"

I nodded my head.

"Are you following me?" This time I felt the intensity in his voice.

Somehow my expression told him something.

"I'm sorry if I annoy you. This is me. I apologize. I'm the person who cares about these men sometimes my actions and my behaviors seem odd to others. Am I annoying you?"

"Yes, you are."

"I apologize. I didn't meant to annoy you. I have to learn to change my tone."

"Don't apologize. You are what you are. I have to learn to adapt to the place and situation."

"No, no, no.... If we couldn't work together........"

"Of course we could work together. This is not about us. This is about our clients. You don't have to change for anybody. I do. Let me put this way. When I go hiking in the wood, I know there will be a lot of mosquitoes and insects. I won't be enjoying my hiking if I keep slapping my arms and my legs, or I wouldn't go and burn the wood. I have to get insect repellent."

For the first time since I started my job there, I saw a genuine friendly grin from him.

"Ana, I'm glad we have this talk"."

"So am I."

The snow melted on my face as I walked and hopped on  the sidewalk to the train station in five inches snow.

Sibuk Macam Kucing Nak Beranak

I apologize for friends and readers who have been reading my boring blog. I've been busy for the past these weeks since I started at the new workplace. I'm getting familiar with the place, residents and staff, rules and rules of the house and all those important and not so important information.

I've been walking, riding the subways and buses to attend bi-weekly and monthly meetings with other agencies that serve this city homeless/substance abuse  population.

I've been staying late to organize, update the clients' s files.

To Ben Gregory who is curious about the fruit, I'll try to write about it this weekend. God willing.

I captured this beautiful moment yesterday morning when I went out to put out the trash.

One Hour Richer

Daylight Saving begins today and I oversleep. I didn't go to bed until 3.00 this morning. I got greedy. I finished False Witness and started another book by the same author, Investigation. I read both books for the first time 28 years ago, and I read them again 10 years later.

Last night I read them again for the third time. I'm sure sometime in the future, when I'm not too busy wandering around in an underground bazaar in Istanbul, or searching for Lemur in Madagascar, and traveling to Corsica or simply get my hands dirty in my garden I will read again any of her books.

Dorothy Uhnak's books are the only detectives/crimes books I enjoy to read. The first time I read her books was back in 1979 when I was in San Jose, California.

I've always wondered why didn't she write any more books after the last book she wrote in 1993, The Ryer Avenue Story. With my eyes half-opened I googled Dorothy Uhnak and it turned out she died in summer last year.

Try to get False Witness or Investigation or The Ledger for a start, your eyes will be glued on the pages.

Anyway, I skip the gym, get myself a cup of coffee, sit on the bench and enjoy the lovely morning.