#but also at least ethiopia is just right there i can visit once i get money im going to look into prices

[bibleofficial]

my ethiopian fuckin told me he’s leaving TOMORROW to head home for ???? 😭😭😭

[searchingwardrobes]

My Problems with Once and Adoption/Foster Care

Ya’ll know I love this show, and I love the character of Emma Swan. BUT . . . their portrayal of adoption and foster care - particularly the adults who care for these children - leaves much to be desired. The thing that especially saddens me are those in the fandom who buy into their portrayal without question. I recently started another fic that throws adoption agencies under the bus. I don’t fully fault writer’s. After all, the source material is flawed, and we all want to write Emma in character. However, I just hope I can give you another perspective.

Why in the world am I qualified to talk about this? Well, let’s see . . .

* My cousin fostered to adopt all three of her children, two of them brothers.

* My sister pursued adoption for several years before deciding to embrace being, as she puts it, “the best aunt ever” instead.

* My best friend waited ten years to adopt her precious daughter. She went through the heartbreak of caring for her first child - a son - until his birth mother changed her mind at the last minute before the adoption was final. 

* We have a close family friend who is like an “extra grandma” to my kids and her adult daughter was adopted at birth. 

* My sister in law and her brother are adopted.

* My husband’s youngest brother and sister were officially adopted by his dad after he married their mom.

* Another close friend of mine adopted her twelve year old daughter from The Philippines two years ago. She was born with her mouth fused shut, no feet, and no hands. I tutored this little girl for a year, and I love her to death! 

* A friend of mine who is now in her sixties put her daughter up for adoption when she became pregnant at fourteen. The girl found her as an adult, and they have now forged a relationship.

* Another friend of mine is fostering her niece while her sister is in rehab. Right now, it looks like it may become permanent.

This isn’t even an exhaustive list of all the people I know who have fostered and adopted. These all span multiple locations as well.  I know it’s not the same as going through it myself, but all of the above people are dear to me and it hurts me deeply to see their way of life misrepresented. 

So here are just a few things that I want to point out concerning the plot on Once:

1. Domestic infant adoption in the US varies state to state, but it basically goes like this:

* If a birth mother decides to pursue an adoption while she is still pregnant, it is HER decision who gets her baby. If she goes through an agency (most common), she will get to look through profiles of potential adoptive parents. This is important to remember, PLEASE! The birth mother chooses the parents, not the other way around. If it’s a private adoption, she usually finds out about the parents through friends, family, or acquaintances, but the choice is still hers. Therefore, if Emma had decided to put Henry up for adoption before he was born, as the show implies, she would have been the one to pick Regina out as his adoptive mom. 

* The birth mother can decide to meet the birth parents or never meet them. The birth mother has the right to ask for financial assistance for everything from maternity clothes to counseling after she gives the baby up. The only thing illegal is the mother can’t “sell” her baby. In other words, she can’t make a profit off the adoption.

* The birth mother also gets to decide if it is a closed adoption, semi open, or completely open. Even in a closed adoption, the child has the right to the birth parent’s medical records when they come of age. Open adoptions are on a scale. Some birth mothers attend birthday parties and have regular visitation. Others let the child decide on contact when they reach a certain age. Sometimes they send letters each year on the child’s birthday. There are dozens of arrangements the birth mother can come to with the birth parents, and it all gets spelled out in a legal document.

* The only time an infant is placed in foster care is if the birth mother decides after birth that she doesn’t want the child. This is always temporary. Infants are either returned to the birth parents or are adopted. THERE IS NO GROWING UP FROM INFANCY IN FOSTER CARE! Now, a child can be taken away from their birth home at a later date due to neglect, drug abuse, etc. But no kid is born into foster care. There are thousands of parents in the US waiting for an infant to adopt, more than there are babies to adopt. That’s why it took my best friend TEN YEARS to find her daughter. That’s why when a baby was abandoned at the Atlanta airport a few years back, hundreds of parents called family services wanting the child. The boy had a home (which became permanent) within 48 hours. There is no way a healthy, beautiful baby girl like Emma would have been put in that group home like we saw in season two. At worst, she would have been placed with foster parents temporarily until the waiting period was over. (See below)

* After the infant is given over to the birth parents, there is a waiting period. During that time, the birth mother can change her mind. This varies wildly from state to state. Here in Georgia, it’s two weeks. In Pennsylvania, where my best friend lives, it is an entire month. On day 30, my best friend had to give her son back to his birth mother. I can not convey to you the pain she endured. Having said that, I’m glad birth mothers have the freedom to change their minds. I would never want to go back to the 1950s when babies were ripped from the arms of their devastated mothers who were given no say in the matter. On a side note, some adoptive parents opt to let the baby go to a temporary foster home until the waiting period is over so they don’t go through heartbreak if the birth mother changes her mind. My next door neighbors chose that route when they adopted their daughter, but remember in Georgia, that’s only two weeks. With my best friend, she felt a month was too long and she was willing to love on that child even if it was only for a month. 

* Even after the waiting period is over, the adoption is not official until the parents stand before a judge. Legally speaking, this is more binding than birthing a biological child. In other words, there is no going back. No returning the child. No exchanges. No refunds. Which brings me to . . . 

THE SWANS GIVING EMMA BACK: If Emma was legally adopted, this would be impossible. She states that she was three when it happened, making it even less credible to me. The only way this would make sense is if they were foster parents who never legally adopted her. It is true that foster parents sometimes decide to stop fostering when they have biological children, but adoption? Nope. (Not to mention the show later claimed that Emma chose the last name Swan herself when she was 9 or 10, so .  . . )

2. The cost of adoption:

* I don’t know where the idea comes from that it’s expensive for a birth mother to give her baby up for adoption. The adoptive parents pay for everything, as I stated above, or at the very least, they pay the medical bills. This doesn’t mean it’s EASY for a mother to give up her baby. Props to Jen for portraying Emma’s agony so well in season three! However, just because something is difficult doesn’t mean it isn’t the best decision for the CHILD. Obviously, my friend who is now in her sixties was unable to care for a child at 14, when she was a child herself! She was thrilled to hear her birth daughter tell her about the happy home she was raised in. Like Emma tells Henry, birth mother’s give their children up “to give them their best chance.” It is a selfless decision.

* It IS expensive to adopt - for the adoptive parents. There are legal fees, fees for home inspections (which expire and have to be redone yearly), travel fees, medical fees (not only maternity for the birth mother, but physicals for them, their children, and even their pets), and then additional fees if they are paying an agency. This is a simplified list, honestly. A friend of mine had a blog when she was adopting her sons from Ethiopia, and her list of paperwork that had to be filed was mind-boggling. 

RUMPLE ARRANGING HENRY’S ADOPTION: Considering all of the above, it had to be an illegal, black market adoption. That does exist  -however, it’s usually foreign, not domestic. Nine times out of ten, however, they just swindle couples who are desperate to adopt. But you know, Once writers . . .  

3. The reasons parents adopt or foster:

* Inability to conceive - this has to be number one. It’s the reason my best friend adopted, and it’s the reason my sister pursued it for so long. One sad thing? The most common reason for infertility is a disease called polycystic ovarian syndrome. One of the symptoms is weight gain, regardless of diet or exercise. Yet guess what many countries require for you to adopt? A “healthy” BMI. Meaning women with PCOS have an even harder time adopting.

* Compassion for orphans - This is why my friends adopted their daughter from the Philippines. They have two biological children, but when they thought about the millions of orphans in the world, they felt led to share their home and family with a child who did not have one. I know several people who foster for the same reason. They aren’t doing it for a “check from the government.” (And fyi, the government gives them most of that “money” in the form of food stamps and other public benefits that often only covers the bare minimum.)

* A need in their family - My friend who took in her niece had just come upon her “empty nest years,” but she couldn’t look the other way when a three year old little girl was being neglected because of her mother’s addictions. She and her husband were then back to pull ups (the mother hadn’t even attempted potty training), preschool cartoons, and teaching the ABCs. Their niece also had spent so much time in an exersaucer that her legs were crippled and she still couldn’t walk. They had to pay for braces on her legs and physical therapy. But how could they turn away their own flesh and blood? (By the way, she is now five years old and thriving!)

REASONS TO ADOPT ACCORDING TO ONCE: To fulfill your own needs and soothe your own loneliness. I’m not saying there aren’t awful, selfish people out there who adopt for that reason, but I ask you: How many people would be willing to go through ALL the difficulties I described above for selfish reasons? It just doesn’t make sense. And frankly, it is insulting to the many adoptive and foster parents that I know and love. 

4. Regardless of all of the above, adopted kids DO struggle at times.

* Mary Margaret tells Emma in season one that Henry has the same question that all adopted kids do: “why did my real parents give me up?” (I’m paraphrasing, but you remember this scene, I’m sure). This is actually true. Pretty much every family I know who has adopted, their kids have gone through this at some point. No matter how loving a home they are raised in, this question inevitably comes up. Some kids (or adults) meet their birth parents and find peace : they really weren’t able to take care of me, they really did want what was best for me, they did it because they loved me. For others, meeting their birth parents is painful. Yet none of that means the adoption wasn’t the best choice or that the adoptive parents were awful to the child (like Regina).

* Is the foster care system in the US flawed? Yes. There are too many cases and not enough social workers. Children fall through the cracks, some of them have tragically died. However, if you actually look into the facts in such cases, children are most often injured or killed not by foster parents, but by their birth parents. Usually it is the system’s failure to remove children from dangerous homes that is the problem, not cruel foster parents. There are also not enough foster parents for children who need homes, with older children being the hardest ones to place. Many of these kids are suffering from severe trauma and caring for them isn’t easy. Typically, the reason kids are bounced around in the system is because their parents keep regaining custody, loosing it again, regaining it again, etc, etc. By the time the parents either get their shit together or relinquish custody, the kid’s a preteen or teen. So my question for Once is:

WHY DID EMMA GET BOUNCED AROUND? She was put back in the system at three, but we don’t see her again until she’s eight or so at the movie theater. Do you really expect me to believe they couldn’t find a home for adorable, sweet, smart little three year old Emma? My sister would have adopted a little girl like that in a heartbeat! She wouldn’t have cared that she was three. We’re told that Emma kept running away, but at three? 

No way little Emma was incapable of being adopted. I just don’t buy it. Since adopted kids have issues even in loving homes, why couldn’t that have been the writer’s narrative? Couldn’t Emma’s adoptive parents simply died at some point? In my opinion, the whole thing was just lazy writing.

[purplesurveys]

825

All About the Letter E

Please List! (at least one)

Animals I Like: Elephants! And emus, mostly because of the Emu War I had watched a video about recently.

Foods I Like: Eggs. All kinds of them. I also like Eggs Benedict, empanadas, eggplants, eclairs, escargot, and I loooove eel. 

I Know Someone Who’s (jobs): Editor, editorial assistant, editor-in-chief - surprise surprise, I’m a journalism student haha.

I Wouldn’t Mind Visiting: Egypt and Ethiopia. I also want to go back to El Nido in Palawan.

Sometimes I Feel: Excited, enthusiastic, but mostly embarassed.

Music I Listen To: Ed Sheeran, Eraserheads, Ella Fitzgerald.

Movies I’ve Seen: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Eraserhead, Emperor’s New Groove, Evil Dead, The Exorcist, Ex Machina (the first ten minutes of it anyway), Eyes Wide Shut.

Names I Like: Emilia, Emma, Elliott, Ezra, Eden, Elizabeth.

And now, onto the random questions!

Do you believe in equality? Of course. Reeeally big on it too.

Early to bed or early to rise? Mmm, neither honestly. I sleep way too late to the point of it being unhealthy, which means I don’t get up particularly early either.

Are you early or late for appointments? I get to the venue early, then show up exactly on time.

Have you ever had an ear infection? I have not. I imagine that would majorly suck though.

Do you go see an eye doctor? This implies that I do it regularly, so no. I did have to visit one when I still could because my left eye would feel like there was something stuck inside of it and it hurt to blink. The eye drops prescribed to me didn’t really help and would only provide short-term relief, but I never got to go back and have my eye re-checked cause we were under lockdown by then. Occasionally I’d still get spells of being irritated.

How many earrings do you wear? None. I ruined my left ear piercing years ago so I’ve had to stick with clip-ons, but I haven’t worn any in a while because I’ve lost most of them, because I’m terrible at being organized with such tiny things lol.

Do you care about the environment? How do you help the Earth? Yes, I reduce and recycle whenever I can; I’m very particular about segregating my trash; I save on paper by always folding a page in half if I have to fill it up; and as icky as it is I always pick up trash at public places when I see it – I’ve since had Gabie pick up the habit too. How often do you exercise? Do you go to a gym or do it on your own? The only exercise I get is going on short strolls with Kimi. I do it for leisure, not for workout-y purposes. I did have a rigorous PE class last sem where we’d have to do like 50 pushups, 30 pullups, five-minute planks, lifting 80-lb barbells, etc every meeting and it was honestly a lot of fun; but I was never able to maintain the exercises we did once the class ended.

What are your favorite things to eat? Unhealthy things like cheeseburgers and corndogs, ~fancier desserts~ like macarons and eclairs, savory food like ramen and curry, and seafood. My tastes are all over the place, lmao.

Do you know anyone who is pure evil? I know shitty people, but ‘pure evil’ is pushing it.

Do you get along with everyone? Not always because I can be quite vocal and that doesn’t sit well with some people; and it’s usually easy to tell if I don’t like someone even if I act civil. I always try my best to be friendly though.

Do you have a certain routine that you go through every day? Yes. I need my routines otherwise my anxiety will absolutely blow up. Spontaneity is fine with me but not when it comes to this.

Have you ever felt like you’ve lost everything? Yup.

Is there anywhere you’d like to explore? The rest of the world. For the most part, there’s no place I’d say no to going.

Elevators or escalators? Escalators because at least it’s in an open area, and if it breaks down I can just go up or down as if it were stairs.

What do you do in the evening? Dinner, play with Kimi and now Cooper, and I usually take my surveys by evening. Sometimes I’ll make a cup of coffee too.

Have you ever been evaluated for anything before? Yes, both as part of a group and just me, individually.

What’s the worst you’ve ever done on an exam? I got the lowest possible grade that my old school offered once or twice. In college, I once got something like a 40/100 in an economics class HAHAHAH

Are you easily exhausted? No, as long as the weather cooperates. If it were hot and humid I’d be a lot more sluggish.

Do you like visiting exhibits? Depends on the subject. < Same. I wouldn’t go to an exhibit that would get too technical on engineering, for one.

Have you ever felt exiled? I’ve felt that in my home many times.

Have you ever felt like everybody was talking about you? Yeah, but I don’t feel like opening up that can of worms right now since it’s a complicated story lol.

Have you ever entered through an exit sign or exited through an enter sign? I’m sure I have.

How have humans evolved over time? In a lot of ways. We’ve lost some tiny body parts, changed our mindsets on stuff like slavery, changed up our fashion sense, removed and added words from/onto our vocabulary, developed our cuisines, etc. I highly recommend Bill Wurtz’s ‘history of the entire world, i guess’ video haha.

Would you ever consider eloping? No. Not to sound ignorant, but I genuinely mostly don’t know what that entails since it’s not really a part of our culture. One thing’s for sure though, I wanna get married with a bunch of people watching.

If you could erase one mistake from your past, what would it be? I wouldn’t call it a mistake because it was who I am at the time...but I hate the fact that my college experience is forever stained with how much I sulked during my freshman year.

When’s the last time you’ve used email? How about sending something through the mail in an actual envelope? For email, it was like a week ago when I had to reply to a company emailing our org to endorse their internship opportunities. I don’t think I ever sent anything to anyone through mail...? I’ve written handwritten letters, but I personally gave them to the person it was meant for.

Do you dye eggs at Easter time? Nah we only did that once.

Is the glass half empty or half full? Depends on the situation, for me.

Have you ever had elbow macaroni before? Sure! My favorite recipe is Mama Lou’s truffle mac and cheese. Soooooo savory and so, so unfairly good.

Have you ever fractured or dislocated your elbow? Never. That sounds awful. I’ve seen arm wrestling matches go wrong and those were bad enough. Do you know how long an era or an eon is? An era is dependent on events, isn’t it? Like the hippie era, the grunge era, etc. My understanding is that they are socially defined and therefore don’t have a set time period. I believe an eon is an very long but unspecified amount of time. I’m trying to remember this without Googling, so I could be wrong, but those are my interpretations of the words. < There ya go. It’s a little too late in the night for me to be up for defining either in my own words haha.

Do you chew the Extra brand of gum? I don’t think so. I don’t think we have that here.

When was the last time someone showed empathy towards you? Few weeks ago when I was horribly sick and dad willingly took care of me, gave me sponge baths, and listened to every single one of my requests.

Did you have an Elf on the Shelf growing up? No. I’m not sure I know what that is.

Is your bedtime closer to eight or eleven? Eight...AM. :(((

Would you go around the world in eighty days? Nah I’d want to stop in too many places. You can’t see a country in a day. < True. While I was very much in love with my cruise vacation, it also meant that I just had an afternoon to explore as much as I can of South Korea and Japan. And I wish I had more time in both places.

Did you turn eighteen in high school, or afterwards? Shortly afterwards. My graduation was in March, I turned 18 by April.

[a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

[sheylafethurva]

Ber...wait for it...bere

In this post, we are going to keep exploring the unknown. As Thai food once was new to me, and today is one of my favourites, I keep searching for unexplored flavours as a way to develop my tasting perceptions, upgrade my repertoire as a gourmande and maybe discover a new favourite dish. Below you’ll see that I did try a new cuisine recently. Do I have a new favourite dish? Well, let’s discover.

Silva, S. (photographer). (2019).Toronto, ON 

love walking in the streets. I’m always looking at the stores and especially to restaurants. Have you ever tried to make a list of all the restaurants you want to visit? I have one, and I’ll tell you, it keeps getting longer and longer. One of the restaurants I crossed from my list was African Palace*.

Ethiopian /Eritrean Restaurant?

I HAD to go.

My husband didn’t hesitate one second when I suggested for us to go there. We were starving, and as the proverb says “hunger is the best spice,” nothing could go wrong.

Silva, S. (photographer). (2019).Toronto, ON

The restaurant is super simple and looks authentic.

I’ve never been to Ethiopia or Eritrea, but I didn’t feel that I was in Toronto either.

The smell of the place, to begin with, was not familiar at all. I could relate it to something close to the earthy vibe that comes from cumin together with a citrussy cardamon/ginger sort of breeze, but the truth is that it wasn’t in my range of known smells.

Since we didn’t have any reference for this particular cuisine, we decided to order a plate, which was composed of small portions of ” main dishes.” First cultural divergence: no silverware. Yes, we're supposed to eat with our hands (not entirely new for me because I had already eaten this way in a Maroccan restaurant). My husband was a bit surprised =O As appetizers, we ordered samosas. Yes, a safe choice. But the main dish was going to be a surprise. While we’re waiting, I caught myself looking at the tables beside us. All of them had a sort of beige napkin folded on a plate. I thought to myself, “those napkins look dirty. I’m not using them”. We ordered some beers, and soon the samosas came (6 und). Super hot, crunchy,  and spicy, the way it should be. They were filled with vegetables (potato carrots, peas, onions, and garlic), and as a dip, they brought us a very fresh sauce, probably made of cilantro, lime juice, and pepper. It was delicious, but nothing new. Delicious samosas served to two starving people: undeniable success. We were still carefully tasting the samosas when our plate came. It was a big tray covered with what seemed to be a french Galette (made of buckwheat), and onto it was the selection of 8 main dishes- in small portions-,  and a little fresh salad in the middle. On a separate plate, they gave us the “beige napkin.” Well, it wasn’t a napkin, after all, it was, in fact, their flatbread, called Injera. That was my first mind-blowing moment.

Silva, S. (photographer). (2019).Toronto, ON

Later, I found that this injera bread is made of Teff ; an ancient grain from Ethiopia and Eritrea, widely used in both cuisines. Totally new to me in all senses. It’s beige- soiled like colour is not quite appealing, not mentioning its unique texture and smell.

Peter Cassidy / courtesy Kyle Cathie. “ Traditional injera from Ethiopia “

Retrieved from:

https://nationalpost.com/life/food/cook-this-traditional-injera-teff-sourdough-flatbread-from-ethiopia

The first chock was related to its temperature; it was COLD. The appearance/ consistency was very similar to a crêpe, but a bit thicker. It also wasn’t completely dry; the sensation was the same as touching a slightly humid cloth. It also seems like a cloth/napkin, so in terms of visual appreciation, it’s a challenge to our sigh sense.

As I said, the only tools available to eat are our hands and the injera. This bread is supposed to help you eat since it absorbs the moisture and works as little bundles for you to fill with the variety of meat and legumes on the tray.

Carlos Thurler by Silva, S. (photographer). (2019).Toronto, ON 

  First, I wanted to taste the plain injera because I thought it could be similar to the buckwheat crêpe.

 I was WRONG. 

It’s nothing like it. It is light, and it has that tangy characteristic present in fermented foods. Later, while researching about it, I discovered the Injera dough must ferment for at least four days, so the harsh smell that emanated from it comes from this process. In terms of taste, it is quite neutral; however, you can perceive the earthy presence of the teff, together with the specific acidity from the fermentation, all composing a spongy, ultrasoft, cold dough that claims for a complement. 

Obviously, it is the intention; this flat bread is not meant to be eaten plain. It’s neutral taste, and spongy consistency is the perfect choice to go with such robust flavoured and succulent main dishes.

Silva, S. (photographer). (2019).Toronto, ON

Ours were: Yemisir Wot (red lentils with berbere sauce), Gomen Wot (Spinach and carrot with onion, garlic, and ginger), Tikil Gomen ( Cabbage and carrot in a mild turmeric sauce), Yekik Alicha (Yellow split peas with onion, garlic, and turmeric), Azifa (green lentils with onion, garlic, cumin, and turmeric) Silsi (Tomatoes, onions, and garlic in a berbere sauce), Beef Tibs (with onion, tomato, and peppers), Ye-Beg Alicha (bone-in and carrot in turmeric)

To be honest, I didn’t look at the plate’s description when ordered; I didn’t want any spoilers. As I mentioned before, the first very unique surprise was the injera itself, which is so very eccentric in all senses. So, to start my exclusive tasting, after trying my bread plain, I torn another piece of it and started filling it with the lamb, which resembled a very thick stew. The taste wasn’t different as well, but it was sweeter to some extend, and it had a gamey smell and taste that wasn’t disguised by the fair amount of turmeric. The high point of this dish was the softness of the meat that easily melted as soon as we started chewing. The next bite was the red lentils. I had never tried red lentils before, so I was curious. As usual, I smelled it before putting in my mouth, and I couldn’t identify it’s fragrance. It wasn’t something I knew, so I had to eat it. the Second mind-blowing moment, I couldn’t recognize it’s taste. The lentils tasted nuttier than regular lentils, but there was something else. It was spicy and citric with a pinch of sweetness sort of seasoning that I couldn’t relate. I remember thinking it could be cardamon or even ginger, but it was something between them or even more to it.

 After trying those lentils I couldn’t focus on anything else. It’s so rare to taste something COMPLETLY knew, out of our range of flavours that I was intrigued. I had to discover what it was. I kept trying all the other dishes, and all of them were well seasoned; in most of them, we could identify the sweet taste of caramelized onions, complemented with the powerful taste of garlic, turmeric, and ginger. Texture-wise they were all very soft; there weren’t any contrasts. They all blended in a single smooth bite. By the time we finished eating, the only thing I wanted was to know what was in those lentils. The menu wasn’t with us anymore, so I couldn’t look at it. I thought I could ask the waitress, but she was really busy, and when we paid the bill there was no time for interaction. I had to discover it on my own.

What I thought was going to be difficult was as simple as it could be. 

I just had to google “Ethiopian/Eritrean” spice, and the answer was right in front of me: BERBERE. When I read the description, it was exactly what I could taste, and I couldn’t identify that taste because there are very specific spices that I had not tried or even heard about it before. Also, I discovered that berbere is like a curry, each family, restaurant, or region have their own. The amount of spices normally varies from 12 to 25, according to preferences and regions. It’s difficult to find a standard recipe, but most of them include ginger, garlic,chili peppers, cardamom, fenugreek, all spice, nutmeg, paprika, korarima, and ajwain. The completely unknown taste, and fragrance probably comes from the korarima and ajwain. The korarima is also known as “Ethiopian cardamon,” so I could understand why those lentils were so sweet and fresh at the same time.

 Castleman, Joe (Gyrofrog). “Whole Kororima ”. Own work, copyleft, 2010.

If I had to compare it with a regular cardamon, I would say that the korarima added much more freshness than sweetness to the lentils. The most perfect complement, I suppose it’s the ajwain.

TRACHYSPERMUM AMMI: Ancient Unani medicine for modern cure, A review of potential therapeutic applications - Scientific Figure on ResearchGate. Available from: https://www.researchgate.net/figure/Ajwain-Plant-flowering-top-seeds_fig1_329521413 [accessed 6 Mar, 2020]

Those fruits (yes fruits, not seeds) are dried and roasted, and they are part of the same “family” (Trachyspermum ammi) as the cumin, caraway, dill, so they also complemented the dish, adding pleasant minty/ sweetish notes.

About the experience

The whole experience at this restaurant was a blessing. What is a regular Ethiopian/ Eritrean meal was a memorable night for my husband and me. All of our senses were explored from the time we entered that place to the moment we stepped out of it. The cozy ambient, the animated music, transported us to a place we have never been before. That plate to be shared, eaten with our hands, made me think about how a meal can unite us. The eccentric injera, with its unappealing colour, unexpected temperature, and unforeseen texture, establishes itself as a pillar of the Ethiopian/ Eritrean cuisine, being not only their primary carbohydrate source but also an indispensable kitchen “utensil.” The Berbere was a unique discovery. Its taste is so peculiar, full of not relatable flavours that transformed simple lentils into an exploration. I definitely need to try injera again to evaluate it in terms of taste. I was in love with its concept but not captivated with its mouth-feel. In my next post, you will see how this experience inspired me to create a delicious treat.

* African Palace: 977 Bloor St W, Toronto.

[blogmarareactions]

Note: ANd finally here is part B for this request for Seventeen. Honestly these take SO long so I really hope you like this. Ethiopia is featured in part A so check that one out as well. I also added a variety of African countries in part A and B.

Warning: Again I`ll just remind you that I use google translate for the sentences in other languages and hope they are right. If you find a wrong, do contact me and I will fix it as soon as possible! It`s also good to let you know that I don`t know all of these countries very well so the places, activities and foods and stuff are all found through google on tourist websites. :)

Also this is the first time where I made my own gifs so I hope they are okey :D

PART B

Woozi - Morocco

I think Woozi would be the type to be a normal amount of nervous up untill you stood infront of your parents door. That`s when he`d want to run away. I can see him being very attentive to the small detailes like greeting with his right hand and dressing appropriate to the culture. In terms of communication he`d try his best to show your parents that he isn`t just playing with you but really does love you. For traveling he`d be the most curious little bean ever. Wether it be seeing the medieval feeling of the Tanneries in Fes, the impressive architecture of the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca, taking a steam bath in a traditional Hammam or tasting foods like Makouda, Tagine and Harira at the famous Djema el Fna. You`d also ditch normal hotels to spend your nights in a Riad instead, this way really experiencing the culture Morocco has to offer. 

“مرحبا، اسمي ووزي. شكرا لك على السماح لي بزيارة.”

“Marhaba, aismi wawzi. shukraan lak ealaa alsamah li biziaratin.” 

“Hello, my name is Woozi. Thank you for letting me visit.”

DK - India

Oh our sweet Seokmin would probably be so nervous. I can see him sticking close to you to calm his nerves. You`d have to help him calm down the night before so that he at least got a little bit of sleep because he`d be so nervous about meeting your parents. The actual meeting would start out awkward but I can se him warming up to the situation and getting more confident when he gets the chance to show your parents that you being with him is not a wrong move. Seokmin too is an open and curious person and India is full of architectual and culinary experiences. You`d take a trip to see amazing places like Akshardham in Dehli, the Ranakpur Jain Temple in Ranakpur and of course the famous Taj Mahal. In between stopping to get some food at the Natraj Dining Hall in Udaipur, filling up with some Thali or getting some Parathas at Gali Paranthe Wali. Maybe even catch one of the famous bollywood movies at the Raj Mandir Cinema in Jaipur.

“आपसे मिलकर अच्छा लगा। मेरा नाम Seokmin है और मुझे आशा है कि हम अच्छी तरह से साथ मिल सकता है”

“Aapase milakar achchha laga. mera naam saiokmin hai aur mujhe aasha hai ki ham achchhee tarah se saath mil sakata hai”

“It is nice to meet you. My name is Seokmin and I hope we can get along well.”

Mingyu - Nepal

Mingyu is a cutie, and despite his at first nervous behaviour I think he`d quickly get a good grip on the situation and start a conversation. I can`t imagine anyone not liking Mingyu once really getting to know him, so when his nervousness lessens and he`d start being himself he`d have no trouble winning over your parents. Though in his nervousness he might be a bit more clumsy than usual so maybe hold his hand or something. Because he is so positive I think he too wants to experience and try out actual authentic Nepalean culture and foods. So put a visit to one of the many impressive temples like The Golden temple in Patan or the Seto Machhendranath Temple in Kathmandu on your list. While in Patan you`d check out the Patan Museum and in Kathmandu a visit to the Indra Chowk market shouldn`t miss either. I can also see Mingyu being a big fan of foods like Momo, Daal Bhat Tarkari and Aloo Tama.

“नमस्कार, म Mingyu छु। त्यसैले तरिकाले मलाई स्वागत को लागि धन्यवाद।”

“Namaskāra, ma Mingyu chu. Tyasailē tarikālē malā'ī svāgata kō lāgi dhan'yavāda.”

“Hello, I am Mingyu. Thank you for welcoming me so nicely.”

The8 - Hungary

I was unsure on Minghao, but I think I can imagine him being the tyoe to be a bit nervous but overall would stay calm. Like he`d ask you about the social customs in your country and what he should do and not do, so the main reason he`d be nervous is that he forgets something from that and accidently offend your family. When it came down to show your family that he is serious about you and hopes they like him, he`d be honest and open, thinking sincerity is the best way to go. He seems to me like the calm type so some easy and relaxed sightseeing like a stroll through the historic castle hill around Buda Castle, seeing the Parliament and crown jewles in Budapest and visiting Nagycsarnok Market would make some great memories. And after enjoying some delicious foods like Goulash, Langos and Somlòi Galuska in of the many star restaurants around, a show in the famous Budapest Opera House is a perfect ending of the day. 

seriously Goulash is one of my favorite foods ever and everyone should have tried it at least once in their lifes

“Hello, a nevem Minghao. Köszönöm a meghívást, remélem, jó benyomást kelthetek.”

“Hello, my name is Minghao. Thank you for your invitation, I hope I can make a good impression.”

Jordan - Seungkwan

Now Seungkwan is the emotional type so I can see him being very nervous. So nervous he wouldn`t be able to sleep the night before and your parents would also notice his nervousness. He`d be holding your hand or fidget around with his fingers. However this of course would only show how important this meeting and a positive outcome of it is for him. One go to place in Jordan is of course Petra with it`s momentous buildings build into the high cliffs, so that is definitely somewhere Seungkwan would want to go. Also Jerash, the most well-preserved ancient roman city outside italy and Amman, the capital of Jordan has amazing sights to see. While in Amman he`d like to try some popular jordanian foods like Hummus, Galayet Bandora, Manakish and Mujadara. And after a relaxed float in the black sea, spending a night in a bedouin camp would be a great ending to your explorations. 

“مرحبا، أنا سيونكوان. يشرفني أن ألتقي بكم.”

“Murhabana, 'ana sayunikawan. yashrifni 'an 'altaqi bikum.”

“Hello, I am Seungkwan. I am honored to meet you.”

South Africa - Vernon

Personally I perceive Vernon as a quite confident person. But at the same time he has this serious shyness about him if it`s about something he truly cares about. That`s why I can see him stressing inwardly about meeting your parents. On the outside he`d be cool and calm expect the small signs like light finger tapping or nervous checking of his outfit every now and again. He`d be polite and honest with your parents, and he`d find it easier to calm down if you were to hold his hand and whisper little encouragements whenever your parents were out of the room. South Africa would be the perfect place for Vernon. I can see him loving the warm weather, trying out a bit of surfing on one of the beaches. Of course the exotic wildlife doesn`t come to short either. A safari would be a must for him. Not to forget, Cape Town is known to have a variety of amazing things to do. From the Table Mountain Aerial Cableway where you can have an amazing view, over Long Street with it`s quirky little shops and restaurants (eating Gatsby) to taking a nice walk through Kirstenbosch Botanical Garden where you`d take some nice pictures when going over the treetop canopy walkway.

(alright so South Africa has 11 official languages Afrikaans, English, Ndebele, Northern Sotho, Sotho, Swazi, Tsonga, Tswana, Venda, Xhosa and Zulu, which is crazy. I decided to just go with english for this one.)

“Hello, my name is Vernon. It`s good to meet you, I hope we can build a good relationship.”

Dino - Switzerland

Okey listen, I know Dino is a squishy cutie, and I can also see him being nervous and shy about meeting your parents at first. However the moment you`d stand infront of them he`d be a charming gentleman. No doubt I can see him using his amazing charisma to win over your parents faster than you can see. He`d be sincere and polite, showing them that they don`t need to worry about you being with him at all because he is very capable of taking good care of you. Probably ends up being your parents favorite boyfriend if you happen to have more siblings that are in a relationship with someone. When in switzerland you better prepare fo nature gallore. I can imagine the two of you going on hikes up to places like the famous Matterhorn, maybe even doing some skiing. Or if skiing isn`t the thing for you some Swiss Alps canoying is also fun. Of course switzerland also has beautiful architecture that I can see Dino being very interested in, like Basel Munster or Old Town Chur. Swiss chocolate and cheese fondue can`t miss on his culinary exploration, but also Papet Vandois and Tartiflette is worth a try. 

(I know that Switzerland has 4 official languages German, French, Italian and Romansch. I decided to go with German on this one because I speak german fluently so at least I know that what I write is right xD)

“Guten tag, mein name is Dino. Vielen dank für den netten empfang.”

“Good day, my name is Dino. Thank you for welcoming me so nicely.”

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Primum non nocere

I think we could have worked things out, if we'd really tried

That was my first thought

After I hung up with Mara.

Yesterday was my best day in the Big City

Lying by the water, all I heard was sirens

But when I looked at the light blue silk, it calmed me

When I was ready to go to the water, for the first time even though it's been there for two years and I've just been working every day for two years and so I've never made it to the water I've seen from a distance a million fucking times

When I was first ready to go, I requested an Uber

Immediately, I saw he was driving in the wrong direction - away from me. He had a rating of 4.7.

Definitely a strong candidate for cancellation, I thought. If I actually needed to be somewhere, he would already be canceled.

But I was going to the water. To restore myself.

Then he called me. As soon as I heard the African accent, I was all love

When I hopped into the vehicle, the first thing he said was, "You're so nice!"

What he was really saying - "Thank you for not being like every other north side asshole and immediately canceling me or putting up with the wait just so you can be rude and cruel towards me to exact revenge."

Don't worry Nigeria guy. I hate them too. And I hate the little piece of me that is them (continue reading to learn about myriads of other pieces of me that I hate).

Nigerian. 65 years old. Used to be a top military police official in Nigeria. Wanted to come to America to find the promise of a better life.

Every promise on earth is a lie. Every promise in America is an obvious lie.

Goes back to Nigeria three times a year because that's the only place that makes him happy. That's the only place where he finds happiness. Broke as hell while in the US because he goes back to Nigeria so much though.

He tells me I'll be treated like a king if I was to go to Ethiopia.

I sure remember being an alien in Egypt.

I guess I just need a position as an official?

When I was about to kill myself a few weeks ago, I remember what really accelerated things downhill was actually believing that I would never accomplish the thing I've lived my whole adult life for - to go over there and at least *be able to help in some small way*

I finally, utterly believed - I would never actually do it

Since then I've been taking that belief away, piece by piece

because that belief necessitates immediate self mutilation

It's all I've ever lived for.

I agreed with him, that people are happier in Africa, and that family, and community, exist in a way that does not, and cannot, here.

I wish Mara had been more African, maybe. Maybe I wish she had been more African in culture and less American in culture and thought and personality.

But even if she had been, it only takes one American to poison the possibility of a successful bond between humans. It only takes one white person to do that.

She was talking about coming over one minute,

and then saying that she knew it never would have worked minutes later, after I said what I said.

She also verbally attacked me, saying I didn't really care about her and led her on

Okay Mara, I won't mention that you continuing to fuck me even though "you knew it would never work" would equate to leading *me* on.

It would have worked, Mara, it would have.

It would have worked if you could have forgiven me, repeatedly, forever, and if I had kept trying, repeatedly, forever.

There seems to only be one thing I can keep trying at.

And so I discussed with Uber guy, should I visit Ethiopia this winter? Would it be too soon?

Lying beside the water, I watched it crest and ripple and rise and skid out in rows when the wind blew it.

I know I'll leave Mara tomorrow, I thought.

I don't know if my business will go under this year

Or if I'll kill myself this year

Or if I will ever trust anyone, anyone,

anyone

but the One I cannot see

Mara said once that i shouldn't say I loved her too early, or it would freak her out, and she would run

She said she was a runner.

On the ride home

It was the same thing as always -

Someone with a shitty car that died in the middle of a busy road

She was lucky I'd gone to the water though

Because this time I had cold groceries in the car and that's usually a disqualification for me to stop

But as the 100s of big city fuckers drove by with no shits given, I was selfish enough to ignore the fact I'm only stopping because stopping will give me some self worth

It's only now though, that I see how I'm just like them, but just at a different angle -

They get their self worth from their partner, their kids, their stable job

Mine comes from superficial acts of kindness

After walking away from her car, now nearly tucked in beside the curb on a side road out of harms way, I looked at my hand

It was shaking, but just a little

I was still really, really relaxed from being beside the water.

Mara almost killed me

I can't do that again

I didn't help her at all

She's angry now, and hurt

And probably trusts people even less

I would ask her, if she trusts people less, but I'm afraid of how the answer would affect me

She and i once laughed at how people get shit tattooed on their body in Arabic and don't even realize what it says or get it spelled wrong

So maybe rather than hiding under another thin veil by having it tattooed in Somali,

I'll just have the reminder to myself tattooed in all caps in English:

"FIRST, DO NO HARM."

It's okay though. All the girls I've left have found the right person not long thereafter.

I'm the only one who’s sick enough to stay alone.

[frmunroplaceonsale-blog]

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OTTAWA REFLECTIONS

     Let’s reflect. Where is Ottawa? Just past those three stars in the sky and down the rainbow road a ways. No, if you’re going from New England, you have to go through Buffalo. Buffalo will let you know that you shouldn’t be sad to be leaving America. Even if you like a good wing, you can get that anywhere now, with as much blue cheese as you want.      Once you’re in Canada, the land flattens out to reveal power lines and stations stretching on for miles and miles. They look like electric scarecrows. If now you get a faint tinge of homesickness, again think of Buffalo. We went in the summertime, in August, but if you go anytime between November and April, this will be a winter oasis. The swirls of wind and snow will almost seem to be carrying your car along. (I know from going to Quebec City many times in the winter... dear old Quebec.) Take heart in the snow: it’s not cold, it’s comforting. Aren’t you warm in your car? But this was August and no rain, and my friend kept talking about how he could see how the rail system was all connected. (He had just read a book about trains and had a fever for talking about it.) Once you get somewhere abroad, even if it’s on the highway in the middle of nowhere Canada, you start to think you see things with a fresh eye. This may in part be due to the fact that we all leave some baggage behind in our home countries, as soon as we cross the border.      I was a little homesick. I always think I want to travel across the world, but as soon as I get ten miles from my house I start to think about my friends and my houseplants, etc. It’s quite the dilemma being a person. We’re all just walking question marks. We got to Ottawa (which I’ll point out, is the capital city) at sunset and I immediately thought I had made a mistake in bringing us here. It seemed small and nondescript. It seemed like something that would hardly be a city in the U.S. Well, we would at least have three days to see how boring it was. Sometimes it’s fun to see just how bored you can get. It’s a fun, fully immersive activity. We met our AirBNB host, who, do I even need to tell you, he was Canadian so he was friendly. (Not as many French Canadians in Ottawa, to my knowledge, so they are apt to be more friendly.) He was a male hairdresser and we were staying behind his salon off of a little gated courtyard with a little fountain, and he made haste to introduce us to his wife, I think to prove to us right away that he wasn’t gay, even though he was a hairdresser. (Still could have been gay... and who cares anyway? Be as gay as you want.) The apartment was a sleek little place, what you would expect from a hairdresser. White everything.      We turned on the local news and started to drink some beer. Of course we connected to the WiFi and I responded to a couple friends’ texts telling them that I was in Canada, to make it more real for myself. Aren’t you jealous? I’m in Ottawa. How can you travel and not watch the local news? It really puts you there. If they’re having a pumpkin festival the next day on the outskirts of town, or a lumberjack competition, don’t you want to know? Just for your own edification? Thinking about it, we got the beer in Burlington, where me and my friend went to college. So we didn’t go through Buffalo. I made that up, I guess just to talk some shit about Buffalo. (Sorry all you Sabres fans.) And the beer was strong, and before we knew it we were drunk. I was playing songs on my phone. John Coltrane, Bob Marley. Legendary Americans to remind us of home. (Okay, Bob isn’t American but we’ve basically adopted him.) Once a friend asked how I was doing and I never really know, but I told them I could play any song on my phone, so that was at least something.      A stones throw from our place was a bar called Atari. I figured they would have some arcade games — not that I would want to play, I just like looking at them. For aesthetic pleasure. You understand. It was a bit of false advertising because they didn’t have any games, but they did serve strong drinks. We sat on the roof and our server (he was definitely gay... and friendly), he sold us on one, two, three drinks. My friend doesn’t drink very much, but will drink if that’s what we’re doing. We became best friends with our server for that hour or so. He told us that Ottawa was okay but that when he graduated college he wanted to move to Toronto. Toronto is like the LA and New York and Miami of Canada all combined. Ottawa isn’t the Washington D.C. It’s more like... Richmond, Virginia, or some place like that. EXCEPT...      ... EXCEPT... where the government buildings are it is beau-tee-full. It’s called Parliament Hill and it’s like all of a sudden you’re in London, without all the smog and the congestion and people throwing acid in your face. It’s real chill. And international! Canada’s immigration policy is more lax than Uncle Sam’s, and if you’ve just moved to Canada from, say, Ethiopia, you want to see the capital with your family. You want to go to Parliament Hill and see the Peace Tower, which is like Big Ben, but again, more chill. I saw some high-class pretty women who, maybe this is my bad but I just assumed they were prostitutes and I thought, politicians DO work here! The Hill is on a river, not too far-fetched of a name, the Ottawa River, and it’s a pretty idyllic scene. I live in a suburb, pretty much all white, so really it was just good to see some black and Middle Eastern and Asian people.      We paid for those drinks, I mean the following morning we paid for them, and after we got coffee the following morning, which wasn’t quite strong enough to be a silver bullet, my friend went back to the place to rest more and I sojourned around the main market that’s near The Hill. I saw a picture of Obama from when he visited the market a few years back, shaking someone’s hand, and thought to myself, this place is all right. I stood in front of the U.S. Embassy, took a good long gander at it. It’s not a modest building, I’ll say that. It almost looked more like the real seat of power. It has what looks like a steel spine running down the middle, like a combination of Alien and Predator, like it could get up and shoot lasers and eat the rest of the city. It’s probably the only thing in the city that isn’t chill. If we somehow got in a mishap about some stolen poutine, my friend and I, we would seek refuge in this building. Not only are we Americans, our I.D.s would show them... we’re from Massachusetts, basically the birthplace of the country, if not of all civilization.      That second night we didn’t do anything besides to tell ourselves we weren’t drinking. And we didn’t. I can’t drink more than once a week. Thankfully my body revolts. Besides that drinking is fun, it’s almost worth drinking to then not drink the next night and just eat and sleep and watch TV, to remind yourself of the good, quiet life. I’m pretty sure I did some stretching that night too, just in the little corner of the kitchen. Made it my little impromptu yoga. Felt so good. We also happened to get the Lions-Patriots preseason game, because we were close enough to Detroit. Home has a way of finding you wherever you are.      Now the THIRD day (technically the second DAY we were there)... the third day was the big day. Hangover... gone! The gay bartender was great people but we hadn’t gotten pulled in by him again. The third day late morning we went to the National Gallery. First we stopped in an antique bookstore and I looked at the spines of all these books about traveling to Antarctica and taking a dogsled across the Yukon. Crazy shit, man. How bad does your wife have to be for you to be like, fuck it, I’m traveling to Antarctica! I may not make it back! Was Ernest Shackleton’s wife just one of the worst people in the world? Or was she lovely and Ernest simply had the exploring bug? Something must have been going on there. Then when we went to the National Gallery we saw all these paintings of people in canoes and dogsleds, and houses in winter, and rivers... lots of rivers. Canada, man. You know what’s north of Canada? The North Pole. That’s how far it goes up. Do you know how cold it is in Canada in the winter? Like, everywhere in Canada in the winter? It’s fucking freezing. Do you know what extreme conditions do to people? It makes them make great art.      The most famous group of Canadian artists is the Group of Seven. I only really knew Lawren Harris’s work from this group, but the member probably most central to the group, who drowned in a damn lake, is Tom Thomson. Tom Thomson is one of those artists like Van Gogh who, although not nearly as prolific as Vincent, you just fall in love with him right when you see his paintings. Or you fall in love with his work... but isn’t that the same as loving the man? Trees blowing in the wind. Trees standing stalwart way up on the side of a mountain overlooking a lake. Trees in the deep woods next to a river. From the little I know of his death, I got the impression that some folks have tried to make it more of a mystery, possible foul play, but probably he just drowned and it’s their way of making him more of a legend. I have to get a hamster or something and name him Tom Thomson. Such a strong name.      Anyone who knows me knows I’m an art and museum lover, and less the sports bar kind of guy, but you reach a point in a museum where you say, no more, please. Please! You’ll bring the Mona Lisa to me personally right now and I can look at it close up with no one else around? I’ll punch a hole in that bitch’s face. My point is you reach a saturation point. If you don’t reach a saturation point, that means you haven’t been absorbing anything, which probably means you’re a robot. We retired to the AirBNB to sit and look at our phones and stare at the wall and not look at any art of any kind. We then went to a medicinal shop and imbibed some medicine, allowed by the government, and then the art could really blend and distill in me. We walked around The Hill and, jeez, it was one of the most beautiful late afternoons I’ve ever seen. Sun shining, the sunlight twinkling off the water. Real magical travel shit. We walked down by the river and canal and inspected the lock system. My friend has a very curious mind. Maybe in his next life he’ll be an engineer.      The big boxing match happened to be the last night we were there, and we went to a pub beforehand and the female bartender sold me on a place to go to. At first I thought she was just being nice to me because maybe she liked me, and then about eight seconds in I was like, nope, she’s selling me on something. I could die in a fiery car crash in a ravine and she would sprinkle down advertising cards to her friend’s club on my dead body. Come to think of it, I’ve never met a female bartender who you could describe as, Oh, she seemed shy and genuine. I get it because they have to deal with so many people, so many assholes, so they have their shtick and their guard up, but it’s never a good feeling when someone treats you like an easy mark. To further perfectly emphasize my relationship with women (not that I was interested in her), we ended up going to her friend’s club, because I told her I would go and I stupidly stupidly have integrity or whatever when it comes to that stuff, and it was at full capacity. A woman who I didn’t even like who I was just trying to be nice to swindled and sold me on something that I was then shut out of. Kind of wish I was a politician so I could just fuck high-class prostitutes and not care. But then do you even have a soul at all? Could you appreciate the Tom Thomson paintings?      It’s funny, I have no idea what we ate for breakfast the next morning before we left. Totally gone from my mind. (I am writing this on my phone on a red eye at about three in the morning.) It wasn’t a crepe, I would have remembered a crepe. It wasn’t chicken wings, I don’t eat too many of those. I’m desperate to remember in part because I’m hungry right now. Maybe a chocolate croissant? Chocolate croissant is my best guess. Always my best guess. As we got close to the border and our phones really started working again, we picked up the baggage again that we had sort of kind of left for a few days, back to our regularly-scheduled lives, but with the sunlight flickering on the water in our minds in the late afternoon sun.

[kimbachronicles]

Black Voices, Our Stories

“Faced with a collective forgetting, we must fight to remember.” ― Reni Eddo-Lodge

2.17.18

It’s 12:30pm and we’ve arrived at the Charles H. Wright Museum in Detroit, Michigan. It’s one of largest African-American museums in the country. This is my second visit, and I’m actually pretty excited. I’m with about 12 students and as we are entering the space, some of it is becoming much more familiar. As I look around, I can see that there are groups and families. All are congregating in the space. But there aren’t a lot of people, fortunately. I go to the front to figure out if there are any guides that would be willing to take us on a group tour. Unfortunately, we are instructed that we’d have to come back later. We have plenty of time to explore so decided that we would spend the first couple hours just walking through the entire museum. 

As we explore, we notice a lot of images, pictures and stories of Africans who were stolen from their native lands, dragged to slave ports and shipped off to various places like cargo. The images and sounds displayed would be harrowing if it were new. Though they strike in me many thoughts. What would it have been to live in the 1500′s, in, say, Benin or Senegal when this was all going down? What would it have been like to have been captured and enslaved by your own people or (quite often) neighboring tribes? What would it have been like to be uprooted, sold like an animal, treated worse than cattle, thrown aboard a ship with 8 inches of space above you? What would it have been like to barely be able to move, with feces, vomit, disease and urine all in your midst? Trapped and shackled, as you breathe in and out a sickening and disgusting stench?

All the walk, I wonder things like: what was in their minds? How did they have the strength to keep going? What is sacrifice? What does that look like in this situation? How do you sacrifice your life for someone you don’t know, someone you’ve never met, someone who is hell bent on destroying you, breaking you and using you to support their way of living, their sense of self? Their sense of hierarchy? It all just seemed so much too much to think of to bear, and there were moments that I was quiet.

Its 2:30pm now and I am going through the museum for the second time. This time we have a tour guide (her name is Janice, like my mom’s name). The tour guide is giving us much more insight, such as explaining the intentionality behind the design and architecture in the museum, pictures and paintings, some of which were throughout the lobby area,

As I continued through the museum - looking at the rich legacies of Egypt, Ethiopia, Ghana, Timbuktu and so many other histories of African peoples and contributions of civilization, as well as the struggles of Africans once they made it to the continent, in the form of slave rebellion and insurrection, civil war,  world wars and movements such as the Civil Rights Movement, I became more and more invigorated. Why am I waiting until Black History Month to come to this great museum? And I won’t! I resolve, before the day is over, to visit at least once before I move from Michigan.

Back to the tour. As time passes while on the tour, Janice gives more context as to things, sharing why, for example, certain tribes people were kept in certain parts of the boat. And the more I’m thinking, the more I’m listening, the more I’m allowing it all to sink in, as though a spiritual portal is opening up. I am also beginning to see the value of continued reading and learning of African history. I am seeing the beauty of listening of taking things in and the power that comes in reading and learning about your history, so that you do not ever forget it. And also, so that you are in tune and alignment with the universe of things. 

Because the truth is, if I’m being honest, I’ve forgotten a lot of these facts and information. By the end of the museum visit, I realize the visuals, sounds and stories and the vividness of it all, was needed. I needed to have this moment. I needed to come to this museum, and not because of anything specific to this museum, but because it is very essential that black people are continuously reading and processing the deeply painful and traumatic experiences of their ancestors to remain rooted in their self-awareness as a people. 

Furthermore, I resolve, it is imperative that African and African Americans, in particular, learn about the people that look and think, and come from spaces and places like them. I also feel like this was a reunion in many ways - of learning, processing and thinking regarding what it is to be black. Reunited with a spirit and passion for self-growth I hadn’t really felt since high school when I visited Senegal as a school trip. But it won’t be the last time (as I said, I’m coming back!)

We must be invested in always discovering how we got to where we are. And we can never forget. For, how can we ever overlook something as monumental as 400 years of enslavement in Europe, the Caribbean and in the Americas? So when I hear people question things about slavery or African/African American history, such as why are you always dwelling on the past? Or get over it, that was over 150 years ago!, I believe they are either racist or mentally ill. And I also believe that sentiment to be reckless, irresponsible and dangerous. Dangerous above all else, because this ignorance and refusal to acknowledge the past, is precisely why our world is turning on it’s head in America and outright racism is becoming chic in our society.

Instead, we (as a society) but in particular those of African descent, must embrace that history, giving permission to ourselves to be learners and teachers, archeologists and theorists, researchers and scientists in the discovery of the lush and powerful historical footprint of peoples from the African diaspora. And, yet even more importantly, we must be accountable and hold to account others to continuing the tradition of sharing our stories.

[touristguidebuzz]

Thrillable Hours: Lebawit Lily Girma, Author and Photographer

Welcome back to Thrillable Hours, my interview series about alternative careers for lawyers. 

Lebawit and I crossed paths virtually years ago, but it wasn’t until this month that I picked up our email chain to feature her on Legal Nomads. Like fellow lawyers turned writers Katie (who now works at National Geographic) and Erin (a journalist in New York), Lebawit has made a living with the elegance of her words. As alternative careers for lawyers goes, writing is a natural pivot.

Originally from Ethiopia, and raised on the Ivory Coast, Lebawit speaks four languages and is at home while exploring. Her name means a woman with heart, and given her background it’s no surprise the corporate office wasn’t sufficient to quench her thirst for life.

I hope you enjoy her interview!

-Jodi

* * *

Alternative Careers for Lawyers: Q&A with Lebawit Lily Girma

Lebawit on Saona Island, in the Dominican Republic

What made you decide to follow a less conventional path than typical law school graduates? Was there a particular moment that catalyzed the decision for you?

I knew as early as my second year of law school that I was meant to take an unconventional path. I had thoughts of practicing public international law and blending travel that way. I’ve always loved to travel and I wanted to follow in my dad’s footsteps in terms of working in international development. That was the reason I went to law school. But there was little guidance on careers that were different from the traditional law firm path, and I had to think about my finances.

So in the beginning, I took the conventional path. I accepted an associate position at a prestigious corporate firm. I was thrilled for the opportunity to learn, and hoped for the best.

A couple of years in, I was unhappy. I had joined the firm right after September 11, and the development, transactional work I wanted to do had become nonexistent. I ended up having to work on what was available: regulatory energy.

I was good at it, but I hated the subject — it was difficult and dull, and it was also a non-diverse practice group. I wanted out, but I didn’t know how to get out. What else would I do? Where would I go, another firm? On the weekends, I would dig for books on alternative legal careers; there were so few of them. I’d brainstorm but I would just end up exhausted… and right back to my desk on Monday.

At work, I took up immigration pro bono cases, which were thankfully billable, and gave me a sense that I was making a difference in someone’s life. And then on vacation days or long weekends, I would travel overseas with friends. To Rome for Thanksgiving, Barcelona for New Year’s, and so on. At least I could afford those trips.

Eventually, at the start of my fifth year of practice, it hit me. I was sitting in my office one morning in January, looked out the window and stared at the pedestrian traffic, and the surrounding concrete buildings. I thought, “In 10 years, you’re still going to be sitting in this chair, miserable with work, and your life will pass you by.”

That was such an overwhelming feeling.

I decided right then and there that I would start preparing for my exit. Even if I didn’t know what I’d do next… I had to get out. I started paying off my debts faster, and saved even more aggressively. The moment I made the decision and took small actions towards it, the next steps came one after the other.

It took me a long time to honor myself as an individual, rather than please my family. That was also because I was helping my parents. But I also think part of it was living up to cultural and societal expectations.

What do you find most fulfilling about your current job?

There are so many fulfilling elements to my work as a travel writer and guidebook author.

I love that I am have the power to help promote local entrepreneurs through my books and photography. I receive messages from local businesses thanking me for the visitors they’re receiving, and that’s gratifying.

I’ve been on the ground long term in my various destinations doing research for my books about Belize, Dominican Republic and Jamaica. And I’m constantly learning and growing as a person.

It’s also fulfilling to meet or hear from readers that they had a memorable trip thanks to my guidebooks. Some of the emails are so emotional, they leave me floored.

I get to travel slow and have access to some incredible places as a travel guidebook writer; that’s a privilege.

Inspiring people to travel is another fulfilling aspect. That folks read my work and view my photos, then actually book and go to a place they’d never thought of visiting before–that’s huge to me.

No two days are the same, and I manage my own time — that’s priceless.

And of course, living in the Caribbean region for work and avoiding Washington DC winters is a major bonus.

Lebawit in Guadeloupe

Do you have any advice for professionals who are interested in leaving conventional private practice but concerned about what is out there?

Be brave, because it can be done.

The first steps are self-analysis, researching and talking to others. Dig deep to figure out what you enjoy doing and what your skills are. Maybe what you want to do doesn’t even exist yet. And if so, that’s OK. Research, talk to other professionals, friends, contacts; ask them what they think you’re good at. Join networks, read, and start putting your work out there (whatever that may be).

You don’t have to figure everything out at once, and you can’t. I used to get stuck thinking I had to come up with that one magic answer or word on what I would do next. It didn’t happen that way. The answer comes after a series of steps. So what’s important is to take one step, one small action at a time. The next step will then unfold until you are steered in the right direction. Sitting and clogging your mind with worry and speculation will make you feel worse.

I started out by deciding I needed a break from seven years of law practice, and took a few months to travel and clear my head. I decided to teach myself photography (because I loved it) while I explored. I read up a lot on what gear to purchase before I left, and how to shoot. That was just step one. The rest followed, bit by bit. It didn’t happen overnight and it took a lot of faith.

So I say go for it, because you only have one life to live. And if you came this far by getting through law school and the bar, then you have the brains to make it happen.

How did your legal education inform the way you see the world today? Do you still identify yourself as a lawyer?

Once a lawyer, always a lawyer I think! Yes, I’m still proud to identify myself as a licensed attorney; there’s an incredible value to a legal education. It’s one of the best decisions I ever made. I use my legal background all the time, even as a travel writer, whether to review my publishing contracts, freelance writing contracts, photo licensing, or knowing how to handle certain environments and people abroad.

It has also given me an ability to observe, be detailed and precise. That’s so important in travel. Engaging in the world around you, knowing how to interview people, and understanding their culture and struggles. Being a lawyer never goes away. It’s a set of skills that make you very sharp minded and analytical. And that’s an incredible thing to have when you’re on the road.

As far as informing the way I see the world today–that comes from my diverse upbringing. I was born in Ethiopia and with Ethiopian parents, but we moved when I was barely one year old to Cote d’Ivoire, a former French colony. I grew up around multiple cultures between home and school, and spoke four languages by the time I was 14, including Spanish. That all came in handy when I had to live in other countries, including Belize, or the Dominican Republic for my guidebook work. Being an expat and going to school in Africa, Europe, and the US–that’s getting a real worldview. Adapting to the Caribbean and Central America for work came easy after that.

Getting a ride home in the Dominican Republic

What do you have to say to those who tell me lawyers can’t have fun?

I’d say they’re wrong! Lawyers work hard, but they know how to enjoy life as well (to balance the stress), and they have a great sense of humor. When I was at the law firm, I found the time to enjoy myself and travel. And in the last five years as a full time travel writer, I’ve had more fun and adventure with my work than I can handle — in Belize, Jamaica, Dominican Republic, Martinique, Guadeloupe Islands, Cuba, Haiti, New Zealand… I can’t remember ever being bored. Last year, a reader emailed me and said I was “the fun maximizer.” :)

Lebawit Lily Girma is an award-winning travel writer, editor, photographer, and author of several Caribbean guidebooks for US-publisher Moon Travel Guides, including Moon Belize, Belize Cayes, and Moon Dominican Republic. Originally from Ethiopia, Lily calls herself a “culture-holic”–fluent in four languages, she has lived in eight countries besides the U.S., including Belize, Jamaica, and the Dominican Republic. Her articles and photography focusing on the Caribbean region have been published in AFAR Magazine, CNN, BBC, Delta Sky, The Guardian, and others. Lily is the recipient of the 2016 Marcia Vickery Wallace Award for Excellence in Travel Journalism from the Caribbean Tourism Organization. You can find her on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, and YouTube.

The post Thrillable Hours: Lebawit Lily Girma, Author and Photographer appeared first on Legal Nomads.