WRITING CULTURE 2012: Film, Food & Beyond

While I was browsing online today for the election news, there was an article that made me to scream for joy. My eyes were glued on the article’s headline, which says “Bangla Ballots – Be Part of History in this Presidential Election,” by The Bangladeshi Chronicle, an online based Bangladeshi news publication. The article is about how first time in the US history the Bangla ballot phenomenon became true in Hamtramck, Michigan.

The article says, “According to the U.S. Census Bureau’s 2010 demographic profile data, 6.2 percent of the Hamtramck population is recorded as Asian Indian, most of whom are Bangladeshi Americans.  Accordingly, the city of Hamtramck will be the first city in the nation to include Bangla instructions in its electoral process.” 

I am so proud and excited not only for the Bangla ballot, but also for its positive affect in the Bangladeshi community. This will inspire more non-English speaker and elderly Bangladeshi Americans to give vote in future. However, this year election is going to be a historical and memorable day for Bangladeshi Americans for all time.

Hoping for Bangla ballot to future elections in state like New York, where so many Bangladeshi Americans are living with low income, struggling to find work, and stressing out themselves everyday to communicate with others in English, after grown-up most of their lifetime speaking Bangla.

Source: http://www.bangladeshchronicle.net/index.php/about-us/

http://www.hamtramckreview.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/bengalivoterlr.jpg

Source:http://cdn01.cdn.justjared.com/wp-content/uploads/headlines/2012/11/watch-barack-obama-victory-speech-for-election-2012.jpg

It is 11:04 p.m. The election is in full swing and the map feature on the new York times website spells bad news for democrats. As the states on the map slowly turn pink (Mitt Romney is in the lead) or red (Romney won in that state) my stomach fills with dread.  Yet, strangely people are  optimistic. While buying groceries in a bodega a Dominican man yells that Obama will win while lamenting that Romney is a thief who wants to steal his social security money. Even after i told him about the people’s desire for “new blood”, he was adamant that Obama will win.

On twitter it seemed there was the same type of sentiment. Women’s World magazine tweeted, “I hope you have better luck finding an election night make-out buddy than Romney does of winning the election.”

As the night goes on my breathing gets better. It is now 11:30p.m. And Obama has won Ohio and Idaho and now has 250 votes compared to Romney’s  200 votes. The map is still filled with the republican red but I guess that does not matter much. The popular vote still belongs to Romney and the people on twitter as well as everyone else in the country still just want a president that is looking out for their best interest.  On the other side is people who just want to be snarky and are resigned to a crappy reality so do not care who wins with Obama being the lesser of two evils.

Some snarky ones:

Rob Tannenbaum from Rolling Stones magazine says, “Fox News now says Romney can still win election by carrying Atlantis, Valhalla, and Whoville. #election2012 #FoxNews”

Random, High School Life tweeted, “Plot twist: Kanye West interrupts the election and nobody becomes President.”

The Atlantic tweets their article, “The Sad Faces of Fox News on Election Night”

All the while I’m asking, can I vote for Bill Clinton?

I voted today for the first time ever.

I was so  excited to finally get a chance to vote, to be able to voice my opinions, and vote on where I wanted to see this country move. I acknowledge everything millions of Americans went through to allow me the right to vote. I am a woman and a minority and in 2012 I voted for POTUS in 30 minutes.

If that isn’t magical, I don’t know what is.

I am a political buff, so today was a close second to Christmas for me. I’ve been following CNN’s coverage online and on TV since I got home at 6pm. They did a beyond AMAZING job! I loved that they had their constant reports on the new states that were called, I also loved that I could follow online.

CNN Website once Obama Win Called

For the wit and fun that a presidential election brings I followed Twitter. Most journalists that were watching along with CNN or MSNBC were also tweeting, which gave an insightful look to the election. I also absolutely loved that ABC incorporated Jorge Ramos to their election coverage. Jorge Ramos is a Univision reporter, he is usually connected solely with Spanish speaking newsrooms, but he actually brings so much insight to the table. I saw him a few weeks back on This Week and seeing him tonight speaking of the Hispanic vote made me glad that I am a Hispanic who voted and  made my voice heard.

I think the most important tweet of the night was projected second term President, Barack Obama. Personally, I loved that he took to social media to thank all those that contributed to his campaign.

President Obama Twitter

When most people think of hurricane Sandy, they may picture destroyed homes, flooded streets and a pitch black downtown Manhattan.
These are the same things I pictured in my head as I sat on Long Island, trapped by a sense of danger and glee that I was free from school. Of course there were thoughts of those that were suffering in my head, but such things were overcome by the delicacies of sleeping in, reading for hours on end, and eating massive amounts of junk food and candy.
While I may not have been overly affected by the immediate effects of the storm, it was the aftermath that sent my social life into a downward spiral of trendiness.
Once the sun was back and the leaves in the yard were raked up, I decided that it was time to go back to Manhattan to get back to some kind of work. It was a noble gesture, but ultimately one that cost me my freedom from ridicule and jest.
As I was packing up my car to make the trek, my mom alluded to a strange notion that there was going to be a shortage of gas.

This was just the beginning of the line. This monstrosity extended about 13 blocks and took about four hours to complete my tour of duty.

Having faith in our war effort to procure gas, and being a huge supporter of blowing up mother nature for more oil, I scoffed at my mother, and proceeded to haul ass at 90 miles per hour towards my doom.
I arrived in Brooklyn only to find that just about all of the gas stations had lines extending several blocks long, as if it was a wait for a new ride at Disney that took your wallet for a spin.
At first i was OK, I conserved my gas by skating a bit, but ultimately, trips to far out lands such as Bay Ridge and Staten Island left my gas gauge begging for a precious refill.
By the time I actually came around to compromising with myself to get some amber gold it was like half the world’s supply of oil had been used up.
I ended up having to wait on line for several hours in the wee hours of a Saturday morning, only to get myself just below half a tank of gas due to limitations on fuel.

Despite my sub-standard amounts of fuel, I trekked back to Long Island to get some free food and other supplies from my folks. Their situation was no better than mine, with folks waiting eight hours plus for gas deliveries that sometimes never came.
After a day and a half of hanging with the folks, I decided that I must return to the concrete jungle to again resume my work, but now my gas tank was a breath about a third full and my car burns gas like a wildfire.
But I did not come back to this city unprepared.
I knew that the trains, in particular the L and G trains, were going to be a shitshow.
To combat this terror, I was forced to hang up my skateboard and trade in my four wheels for two. My dad walked me to the shed, unlocked the doors, and showed me to my new bike.

This bike will kick your ass.

The beast is called a RoadMaster. It is an 18-speed death dealing, mountain eating and hipster crushing machine.
The tires are covered with treads that should belong on a Humvee, and the shocks on the front remind me of a dirt bike.
I am now three days deep into my biking excursion and I personally find it to be an enthralling and cathartic experience, but those who call themselves my compatriots have different opinions upon the matter.
My newly found love causes them to retch and belch up names terms such as “bike douche” and apparently I have been inducted into some bike nerd army.
Apparently all I needed was a means to get into the city during inclement times to be enlisted into this lifestyle.
I think back to a few weeks ago when all I had to do to leave my apartment and go to school was just plug in my headphones, crack the newspaper, and tunnel underground to the giant silver worms.
Now I must mount upon my mechanical steed, exert energy, and know that a Nor’Easter is right around the damned corner.
Look forward to my next piece about how I have to take the fucking bus due to 50 mile per hours gusts that would blow me off the Williamsburg bridge.

I have been a blank slate when it comes to food. Before I moved to this fast-moving city, I kept myself going on diets of hamburgers, Arizona iced teas and canned chili.
Obviously not the best diet.
After moving to this bustling city, I began to experiment with different types of food, starting with the very cultural choice of having a side of pork-fried rice instead of white rice with my orange chicken.
After a few crash test tastings of food, I eventually found myself eating dishes like Tokyo Spicy Curry at the ramen spot near Baruch, Pad Thai with extra peanut sauce and spice at Little Basil, and now finally, I have overcome one of the greater obstacles in my journey: food from Afghanistan.

The restaurant itself was like entering into an adventure of it’s own. The front door is adorned with a tree that seems to branch out and then fall into the patterns constructed from glass tiles.
As I stepped in, a smell of tea and some sort of stew filled my nose. Being that it was only three in the afternoon, we had the place to ourselves. After we sat down, we all ordered our own drinks and dishes.
To start of my foray into the unknown tastes of Afghanistan, I started with a kettle of Shir-Chay.
It is a simple tea, but one that is traditionally drank by most Afghans. The drink is construed from a mix of milk, sugar, cardamom and rose petals.

When I was expecting the drink, the idea of rose petals floating around in my drink did not sound like a possiblity that would be too far off.
I was given a pot and a glass and the server then poured my first glass. I must disclose that I was surprised to find that a liquid that looked like coffee with cream in it came out, sans the rose petals.
The moment that the concoction touched my lips, I was instantly in love. It had a sweet taste that tickled the sense as it went down.

I was surprised by how much that I liked the tea. I finished my first glass and was overtaken by a melancholic feeling, thinking that  I was out of tea. This sadness was wiped from my being once I reach over and lifted the kettle, which shook due to the fluid that took up its interior.
Then came the time to order. i was having quite a lot of trouble deciding, but one must afford me a touch of sympathy due to my lack of cultural know-how.
I may have ventured into new foods schnozz first, but this time I had no previous coaching or encounters with the food.
After some serious soul-searching, I decided to order an Afghani pasta dish called Asheh Gooshi.
The name itself was enough to intimidate the daring food tester in me, but the ingredients cast an allure over me that was impossible to overcome.
The noodles themselves were homemade in the house, and they were topped with a lamb meat sauce combined with a large dose of yogurt sauce.
I continued to sip on my tea until I saw the waitress coming around the bend. Her hands were revealed from behind the walls and I set eyes upon my dish.

The noodles were wide, but thin, and covered with a red and and white sea of sauce with small islands of meat poking out from the top.

To consume such a meal is unheard of in my small tribe of Long Island dwelling compatriots.
The most cultural dish one can find out in the sticks of Farmingville is a small sushi joint that would surely have garnered a “Pending” grade from the department of health.
I dove into the meal, not knowing what exactly to expect from the multi-colored meal, but the moment the first forkful of noodles, meat, and red and white sauces hit my palate, I was hooked.
The dominant taste of the dish was was tangy, due to the yogurt, but once one moved past the initial sour demeanor of the sauce, the flavor of the spiced meat kicks in. All of this was brought together by broad noodles, which had a slightly salty flavor that completed the dish.
Overall, my experience at Bamiyan was one that I left me stunned. The food and drinks were top notch and the prices, although a bit high, were not as bad as they could have been. My impression were that this is some real authentic cuisine, and it is food that is prepared with a strong sense of culture and spice behind behind each meal.

CowGummy / Foter / CC BY-NC-ND

Along with just about everyone having sort of a psychological breakdown due to super-storm Sandy there are residual problems, like voting accessibility, coming to light. Polling sites are being moved around and administrators are learning about the new changes imposed on procedure just the night before Election Day. As the sites are being maneuvered, despite extreme gas shortages, the new locations have incurred damage (especially damaged sockets) and are, nearly to completely, unusable. Delays in opening have exceeded several hours and supply shortages are causing more aggravation to fickle sanity in such a fragile time.
Many of the affected areas are poor neighborhoods with lack of resources to begin with. The election is tight and the inability to vote will widen the victory gap as it is likely that neighborhoods hold united position. The direction is unclear so far.
Email voting has been extended to some resident and workers in the area. It doesn’t make much sense as there is no power in many areas let alone internet, phone and fax. It seems that it is a process which will require more trouble than an actual poll, if there even is a functioning one around. The waits are very long causing the suffering people to just quit and focus on the recovery.

Hurricane Sandy Effect
Source: Sherri Liberman

Hurricane Sandy has made me realize how much we depend on technology but it also made me realize how utterly boring life is without it.

Since I was born in the Dominican Republic, I have been through hurricanes and cyclones so it is safe to say that this storm was nothing to me. However, unlike those days back in my country I was not this addicted to technology or Korean dramas.  This is why I had a fully charged iPad and iPod full of my Korean dramas to weather the storm.

Although, my devices put up the good fight they eventually died and this is when I knew I had to escape. There was no water or electricity but now there was no more entertainment. There were only so many Korean actors I could draw before dying of boredom.  So I packed a bag and escaped to the Bronx in a cab. Though, not before seeing my neighbors climbing 15 floors with a bucket of water in the pitch black staircase.  At this point I was grateful that I had somewhere to escape to.

Seeing the people around my neighborhood walk around aimlessly, searching for water and ways to escape brought home how unprepared the city was for this disaster. Getting an email from the school that people had actually died is an even greater cause for concern.

All in all, Hurricane Sandy did not do me any irreparable damage and I have seen much worse. It’s hard for me to take this very seriously after seeing my grandmother walk a few miles in such a hurricane but I hope that next time we are all adequately prepared even if it turns out to be nothing. Better safe than sorry, I always say.

New York Magazine Cover Shot.

Hurricane Sandy was probably one of the scariest things I have lived through. Ever.

The way your body shakes or shutters every time Sandy’s winds hit the window out of pure fear and consciousness that a million things could go terribly wrong. The lights flickering so quickly, and regularly, that it’s almost like you’re blinking, but you know it’s not you it’s everything that is happening outside.

The sense of fear comes from not being to do anything; being completely at the mercy of nature is inexplicably humbling.

I was lucky. My area did not get hit badly, I didn’t lose power, my grandmother was safe, and we were alive. I counted my blessings, 100 times over. 

Others weren’t so lucky and for them my heart broke. I was consoled by the fact that New York City showed that for all the privacy we seek, we are still a city that knows solidarity and protects their neighbor.

I followed most of the storm, like many others, through TV coverage and Twitter. To say that these reporters did an amazing job covering the storm is an epic understatement. The images below all link to stories that I think covered Sandy the best they could. I also followed Anthony D. Rosa of Reuters’s twitter throughout the entire storm and afterwards. Even though he wasn’t like one of the news reporters on the ground, his insight was amazing. I especially liked that he volunteered on Saturday in SI and tweeted about what was really going on there. Unfortunately, news channels were not covering how horrific SI’s destruction is and how displaced these people feel. Rosa captured that emotion in his tweets and rallied more people to go volunteer and help.

(more…)

Pulling a pork dumpling out of boiling Miso Broth Credit:Juliya Madorsky

Tired of your old Chinese take out spot? Looking for something new and exciting? Emperor Japanese is the place you need to be then.  This kind of eatery specializes in “shabu shabu” or “hot pot” in English.  Its a style of eating where each patron receives a pot of boiling broth and types of raw meats, vegetables, and a variety of other delicacies to cook right in front of you. And to top it all off, its ALL YOU CAN EAT! What more can you ask for??

Winter is prime time for hot pot in Chinese culture so I was surprised we were seated so quickly. The decor of the restaurant was spacious while still offering an intimate seating arrangement.  Upon entering, you could smell the heavenly scents of different broths and simmering meats all rolled into one tantalizing aroma.

As we sat down, a waiter handed us a menu with boxes next to them and a pen. Simply check off how many orders of which dish you would like and you’re one step closer to food heaven.  I was a kid in a candy store as I rapidly checked off anything I had even the slightest inkling for.  Good thing I had my fellow classmates to keep me in check!

Raw Beef strips Credit: Elizabeth Griffin

I ordered the Szechuan broth (Soup choice is CRITICAL) and several orders of beef and chicken strips, fish balls, tofu, pork dumplings, prawns, bean sprouts, and (it wouldn’t be a Chinese meal without) bokchoy.  The dishes came out and they were immediately immersed in their steamy baths.  The meats are not previously marinated so once they are cooked they take on the flavors of the soup, not overwhelmingly so which was a pleasant surprise.  The meats were juicy, the vegetables delectable, and the tofu…tofuey! (its a good thing)

Emperor Japanese also provides a sauce station if you desire a fuller flavor for your dishes.   There are a medley of sauces to choose from such as hoisin sauce, chili paste, and garlic sauce to name a few.  Needless to say, I took full advantage of the dipping plates we were provided and loaded up on every sauce they had!

The night wasn’t as perfect as it could be however. The place got real crowded real quick which made it almost impossible to hail a waiter for more food or even the check. Larger tables would have been welcomed as our table filled with dishes rather quickly as well.  Despite these minor hindrances, Emperor Japanese is a place to behold and is worthy of its royal namesake.

After watching many Korean dramas, cooking my own food at a restaurant was always something that I wanted to try and I’m glad that I finally did it.  While there were some things I was not satisfied with, I got a great enough experience to want to try this at other restaurants.

The restaurant was called Emperor Japanese Tapas Shabu Restaurant and it was located in Chinatown. There were a lot of people in the restaurant and it looked like people were enjoying themselves. The first thing you see when you sit down is a piece of paper where you write down the quantities of the type of meat, soup and vegetables you want. You place the soup on top of the table, which has an integrated hot plate to heat the soup. As the meat is brought to the table, customers dump everything in the soup to cook and then place them on a  small plate to eat.

The food was okay, really nothing to write home about. The beef slices were good but somewhat muffled by the taste of the miso soup I was dumping it in. After putting the beef slice in my mouth, I not only got the taste of the soup but also the taste of the juicy meat, which reminded me of pork fat.

The King Prawns on the other hand was something to write home about. While they looked like gray slugs on the plate, they came out looking beautifully pink and delicious  out of the hot pot.  The feel of them in my mouth gave me a mixed feeling of bliss and disgust. Bliss, because they were succulent and juicy. Disgust, because I could feel the  small legs of the prawns while I was chewing them. However, it is that typical disgust that can be put aside if the food tastes good. Like when i’m told I’m eating rats when I eat rib tips from Chinese restaurants and I roll my eyes and say, “but they taste so good!”. Sorry prawns, but I have to eat you.

However, the smell of the food is a huge part of the reason this restaurant is just “okay.”

The smell is overwhelming. It somehow rubs off on your clothes so that I could still smell the food on me when I got home. While I loved the prawns and the chicken slices, I don’t want to walk around smelling like them. I also thought that the restaurant had very limited space, which made it uncomfortable to cook our food.  I was reluctant to try most of the sauce that my classmates made because I was afraid of reaching over and spilling something.  Given the nature of this restaurant and how much people have to move around, space should have been the first priority. However, eating with my classmates and being distracted by our conversation, diluted this experience…until i got traumatized.

As it always happens when I try something new, I got traumatized.  After cooking and taking out a chicken dumpling–which my classmate claimed was delicious and actually told me that it was cooked— I discovered that it was not cooked at all after putting it in my mouth and tasting the raw ingredients inside.  The taste was so disgusting and cold that it felt like I was tasting  raw chicken with blood and everything. I cannot emphasize to readers enough, let the food cook for awhile.  This was a horrendous experience and after that I only ate the meat and rice. However, do not let my classmate’s mistake and the consequences, put you off this place.

Overall, the atmosphere of the restaurant was one of busy energy, which I loved. What made this restaurant great for me was not so much the food but the experience of trying something new. While I was ecstatic about everything in the moment, looking back the food was good but not anything special. The service was great and efficient but they didn’t even take credit cards. Yet, it felt like I was home cooking with friends which is just as  important as discovering new exotic tastes.