(Pictured: kanji, okayu, chao, juk, zhuo, lugaw...tasty.)Where a week is Tuesday to Thursday. Which it is for many of my office mates ;-)
I begin to get settled in. Meetings are held. There is much running around between cubicles, many cups of tea taken. We go out for lunch. We stay in for lunch. On Wednesday, there is the first in what seems to be a tradition of potluck picnics, with a select 20 people. We sit on the patch of grass between the building and its neighbouring parking lots; we have picnic mats and insects and even ice cream bars. Life is good.
Well, we do some work too. But it doesn't make such good copy.
At night there are activities. We go to Target to buy house supplies, and to an Indian grocery for staples like spices, dal, and a big sack of atta flour. Oddly, many of the items are Canadian - maple leaves everywhere! We have yummy South Indian food - rasam, dosa, idli, sambhar, coconut chutney, payasam. Mmmmm. (Pictured: Onion rava(wheat) dosa, Kanchipuram idli, sambhar, coconut chutney.)
Another night we go to (Manhattan) Chinatown. Because it is us and it is Chinatown, we get lost. And then the place we want to try is closing. Eventually we end up at Congee Village, which is a good place to end up. We have to wait for a table and end up getting seated with a number of others, two of whom turn out to be rude, nasty people. We pity the waitstaff. We leave a big tip, which is easy since we eat two congees (crab; fish and preserved egg, especially delicious), a steamed yam cake, an eggplant dish, rice, all for less than $8 each. Mm, Congee Village.
The next day in the office we are having a teabreak and end up in a discussion of the etymology of congee. We have Tamil kanji eaters and Vietnamese chao eaters, Chinese juk/zhuo eaters, Japanese kayu eaters, Tagalog lugaw eaters. I am the only one in the room whose ancestors didn't eat rice porridge (buckwheat porridge doesn't count, I guess) so we decide I am the adopted cousin in the family. Since we are now a family, we all begin to bicker. Mo-om, clearly the Tagalog word is some kind of compound with the word rice (gaw) in it, make her believe me!
Being in the office is good for work. I can run around and ask people questions right away instead of waiting and waiting for an email. It's easier to explain things and understand explanations. I learn that people can also run around and ask me things. I learn that I know useful things. I also learn that it is nearly impossible to finish writing a report when there is always someone wanting to know something. Clearly I will have to adopt camouflage gear and hide out in my cubicle in order to get things done.
Days are long. I get home late. I am very tired. But it's good to be here.
I begin to get settled in. Meetings are held. There is much running around between cubicles, many cups of tea taken. We go out for lunch. We stay in for lunch. On Wednesday, there is the first in what seems to be a tradition of potluck picnics, with a select 20 people. We sit on the patch of grass between the building and its neighbouring parking lots; we have picnic mats and insects and even ice cream bars. Life is good.
Well, we do some work too. But it doesn't make such good copy.
At night there are activities. We go to Target to buy house supplies, and to an Indian grocery for staples like spices, dal, and a big sack of atta flour. Oddly, many of the items are Canadian - maple leaves everywhere! We have yummy South Indian food - rasam, dosa, idli, sambhar, coconut chutney, payasam. Mmmmm. (Pictured: Onion rava(wheat) dosa, Kanchipuram idli, sambhar, coconut chutney.)
Another night we go to (Manhattan) Chinatown. Because it is us and it is Chinatown, we get lost. And then the place we want to try is closing. Eventually we end up at Congee Village, which is a good place to end up. We have to wait for a table and end up getting seated with a number of others, two of whom turn out to be rude, nasty people. We pity the waitstaff. We leave a big tip, which is easy since we eat two congees (crab; fish and preserved egg, especially delicious), a steamed yam cake, an eggplant dish, rice, all for less than $8 each. Mm, Congee Village.
The next day in the office we are having a teabreak and end up in a discussion of the etymology of congee. We have Tamil kanji eaters and Vietnamese chao eaters, Chinese juk/zhuo eaters, Japanese kayu eaters, Tagalog lugaw eaters. I am the only one in the room whose ancestors didn't eat rice porridge (buckwheat porridge doesn't count, I guess) so we decide I am the adopted cousin in the family. Since we are now a family, we all begin to bicker. Mo-om, clearly the Tagalog word is some kind of compound with the word rice (gaw) in it, make her believe me!
Being in the office is good for work. I can run around and ask people questions right away instead of waiting and waiting for an email. It's easier to explain things and understand explanations. I learn that people can also run around and ask me things. I learn that I know useful things. I also learn that it is nearly impossible to finish writing a report when there is always someone wanting to know something. Clearly I will have to adopt camouflage gear and hide out in my cubicle in order to get things done.
Days are long. I get home late. I am very tired. But it's good to be here.
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