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Durians.jpg

Durians in Chinatown.

 

 

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I never thought I would spend much time in Wichita, Kansas. It just wasn’t a place that was on my radar. However, in the last two years I have found myself in circumstances that have required a few extended stays there.

My first visit to Wichita was over a weekend and included a Saturday visit to a diner, an airshow, a wine bar and a club. By Sunday I felt like I had done it all and after a wander in a more than dead downtown, I gave up and spent the rest of the day watching HBO.

However, a few more visits had me scratching beneath the surface and finding a community friendly to an admittedly hippie soul like mine. Here’s what I found so that on your next visit you can skip the HBO and hit the ground running.

Food and Cafes

While a few restaurants and cafes offer vegetarian or a “healthier” option somewhere on the menu (examples Public or Anchor) I found the real standouts to come down to Lotus Leaf Cafe and The Garden Grill. Both are located downtown and have hours that vary during the day with Lotus Leaf closing early some days and Garden Grill closing for dinner completely on some days. I suggest checking the website before heading that way. Garden Grill’s menu is strictly vegan and there’s often a buffet but I find ordering off the menu preferable. Lotus Leaf offers plentiful vegan and vegetarian options with meat options interspersed on the menu, making it easy to convince a carnivore to come with you if they are hesitant. Both have amazing smoothies and juices.

Speaking of juices and smoothies, I would be amiss to mention that Wichita now has it’s very own Whole Foods on the east side of town. I arrived in Wichita after a few days in Austin, Texas, where Whole Foods is headquartered, and I can’t say that the Whole Foods in Wichita is comparable in item selection to stores in say Austin or Denver, but it does offer a decent takeout selection and loads of other options.

If you are just looking for groceries (and perhaps you are a bit disgruntled at the Whole Foods scene), The Natural Grocer has been around a while in Wichita. Their takeout selection is not so great, but you can get all the yummy groceries and supplements your heart desires!

Yoga Studios

All that food got you geared up for a nice stretch? I hope so because holy crap, yoga classes in Wichita only cost about $10 US a session. Do you know how much they cost in Singapore? Anywhere from 25 to 55 Singapore dollars (that’s $18 to $40 US).

My previous trips to Wichita have had me spending a lot of time with Adrian and Whitney at Siva Yoga. Formerly located downtown, you can now find them in the just east of central neighborhood of College Park. While I enjoyed their flowy classes in a warmish 80 to 85 degree room in the past, this trip I was second trimester pregnant and the thought of being in a heated room, even if it wasn’t Bikram hot, made me want to gag. (Listen to your body, yo!)

This led me to the even more east of central studio, Central Yoga, which is named after it’s location on Central Avenue. First, I hit up the community acupuncture sessions which cost a mere $15. The sessions are drop in, so you don’t have to be exactly on time for Dr. Vicki Dukes, DC to align your qi with her tiny little needles. I left floating on air, came back the next day for a fantastic aligned flow class with Keriann and later that week for an awesome prenatal class with the very knowledgeable Sally Beckett. If you are more into alignment than warm flow, Central Yoga is a great option.

Shopping

If you’re looking to do some shopping, I’d skip the often bragged about Bradley Fair and check out Watermark Books, an independent book store in College Park and RELove, a shop on Woodlawn that sales repurposed furniture and also holds classes to teach you how to repurpose a great find yourself.

Outdoors

While I can’t say I spent much time in nature while in Wichita, I can say that the river area through downtown is nicely kept and good for a stroll or run.

Live music

Live music seemed to radiate from bars and restaurants downtown in the summer evenings. Try Oeno Wine Bar for a start with relaxed jams while you sip a Pinot.

That’s all I have for now on Wichita. Got a secret tip? Let me know in the comments. xx

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Ever wonder why a slew of bloggers will write about a website or service at once?

You probably know this already but I will state it anyway- it usually starts with a marketing campaign. A PR specialist will contact targeted bloggers and offer them an incentive, usually in the way of free product to write about their client. It’s typically a win-win as the blogger is happy to have something to write about and the PR person is happy to have some publicity. Plus, it’s hard for a blogger to write something negative when they are being comped. I mean who is unhappy about something they got for free?

This is how the relationship between myself and FoodPanda was initiated. A few months ago I got an email from one of their representatives offering me $40 worth of vouchers to write about FoodPanda, a service that delivers food from all sorts of restaurants around town. The only catch was that she didn’t want me to state that I had received any sponsorship from them in the post.

foodpanda

“Sure,” I replied, assuming she meant that she simply didn’t want the post labeled as sponsored.  I explained that the post wouldn’t be sponsored per se, but that I would have to mention the vouchers.

She replied along the lines of sorry, but you can’t mention the vouchers.

I was pretty surprised. What she was asking me to do was unethical, and in some places like the US, it was illegal. I wrote her back and explained this.

She replied with an I’m sorry that’s the deal email full of smiley faces in return.

I told her no deal and she offered me a $10 voucher as a good will gesture. I went to the website and quickly learned there was nothing I could possibly order and have delivered for $10, and that most orders were going to run $40+. I sent her a thanks but no thanks letter back explaining why I would not use the voucher.

She wrote me back saying she hoped she hadn’t offended me. Spoiler alert: she had.

****************************

Fast forward to March and I have a broken leg. It’s been very challenging as someone who is usually active and independent. It’s a lesson in humility and slowing things down. Husband and friends have been kind by bringing food and helping with vital tasks, but there have been many times when left to my own crutch-filled days. It’s definitely been an eye opener to the every day challenges of disabled people.

leg

One afternoon, hungry and without groceries, I remembered the FoodPanda delivery service. If ever a time to splurge on food delivery, now was it. I downloaded the app and perused the menu. I had been eating a lot of takeout brought over by friends, so the smattering of pizzas, Thai and Indian was not appealing to me. That’s when I spotted VeganBurg on the list.

veganburg

I’ve tried VeganBurg before and have been pleased with their food, mostly veggie burgers and fries. I decided to give it a go, but first called VeganBurg as they have their own delivery service and policies.

“It’s a $50 minimum order to deliver in your area,” the woman from VeganBurg said.

Drat, I thought, and went back to FoodPanda. With Foodpanda, it was a $25 minimum, with a $10 delivery fee and a 10% service charge. I really had to stack up my order to hit the minimum. I figured I could order two sandwiches, an order of fries and two drinks to make the requirement. I could save one sandwich and one drink for lunch the next day, as I would likely find myself in a similar unable to cook or shop predicament.

Ugh, after delivery and all, my lunch was totalling over $40. What was I doing? This was ridiculous for one person for a takeout lunch. My stomach grumbled and I reminded myself I would have an extra sandwich for the next day. I also remembered the voucher. I scrambled through my email but could not find it. I concluded that I had deleted it in my annoyance.

I entered my credit card to the FoodPanda app, croseed my fingers that it wasn’t maxed out and hit the send button. I got a confirmation email and noticed that the delivery would take up to 90 minutes but that I would receive a text stating exact approximate waiting time. The text never came.

I waited and waited. Having not received the text, I called the number on the email only to be inserted into one of those automated phone customer service hell loops. I hung up and decided to wait longer. 85 minutes after ordering, my order arrived. I hobbled down my stairs from my home office to my front door while a man stood out front calling my phone and shouting “hello!… hello!…. hello!….”

“I’ve broken my leg! Hold on! I’m coming!” I replied, matching the panic in his hellos.

I opened the door and he tried to hand me a bag. I looked at him and then I looked at my crutches. He wasn’t getting the message.

“Do you mind putting it on the table for me?” I asked. He complied. I checked the contents and thanked him as he went on his way.

I spread the contents on the table. The drinks were warm and the fries were limp and cold. The lettuce on the veggie burger was still fairly OK but I could see already that it was going to be problem on tomorrow’s sandwich. I looked toward the kitchen and sighed as I realized that I was not going to be able to bring a cup of ice to the table for my drink. I resigned myself to a warm ginger ale and began to eat the mushy cold fries.

This is not how I remember my last few VeganBurg experiences.

When I was done, I bagged up the trash, hooked it on my wrist and hobbled to the trashcan. I was full, but the event didn’t seem to fully satisfy. In fact, my stomach felt a bit queasy. I put the remaining burger in the fridge and made my way up the stairs recalling all the pleasant reviews I had seen other bloggers write about FoodPanda.

I rolled my eyes and counted the days until I could walk again.

Verdict: When you have a disability and can’t get out of the house, FoodPanda will deliver you food but it won’t be cheap and it probably won’t be fresh. 

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Lizards in the toaster.

Pale tails tripping fuses.

Electroshock therapy divine.

 

Lizards in the toaster.

It’s morning and my coffee is lonely

But these little guys have a new home.

 

Lizards in the toaster.

How much for a new toaster online?

The shops on Orchard are crowded.

 

Lizards in the toaster

They hide so snugly in crevices.

Sigh, I’ve given up my taste for toast.

 

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My first trip to China was a long weekend in Shanghai last year. At the time I was still freelancing and I accompanied Husband on a business trip. Definitely an international city, I found myself intrigued by Shanghai’s style and culture.

I started my time in Shanghai with a walk down the Bund, the colonial riverside of Old Shanghai lined by historical buildings on the west and the Huangpu and financial district on the east. In the morning, the air was clear but by 4 pm, the haze had rolled in and the buildings weren’t very visible. Luckily, I had a chance to snap these shots in the morning.

Along the Bund.

Along the Bund.

Still along the Bund.

Along the Bund.

Worker

A Chinese worker has a smoke break near the Bund.

In China, red symbolizes prosperity and joy while white symbolizes death and mourning so it’s only fitting that a Chinese bride should wear red. This bride and groom were having their wedding portraits done along the Bund.

Bride

Bride

The riverfront walkway along the Bund underwent a major reconstruction in March 2010. The benefits are clear.

The Bund

Along the Bund.

the bund

Along the Bund.

I took a similar photo of a bull at Wall Street in NYC a few years ago.

Capitalism

A Nod to Capitalism

Continuing my walk, I ran into these fun guys dishing up some street snacks.

Durian

Weird fruit

I stumbled into People’s Park and found a man practicing his Mandarin characters.

People's Park

People’s Park

It took me a while to figure out what was going on with the hordes of people below. Eventually I came to the conclusion I was at a marriage market. Every Saturday and Sunday from noon to 5 p.m parents of unmarried adults gather to try and play matchmaker. The gender gap in China has widened to make finding a suitable bride more and more difficult for Chinese men. This market has been ongoing since 2004.

Marriage Fair

Marriage Fair

All this walking was making me hungry so I made my way to Jiajiatangbao (90 Huanghe Lu) for xiaolongbao. I arrived just in time to miss the long queue and sat across from a sweet local couple who gave me tips on the art of eating the dumplings without spilling out the precious juices or burning my mouth.

Dumplings

Dumplings

There are plenty of temples in Shanghai. Later with Husband now in tow, we visited the Jing’an Temple just north of Jing’an Park.

temple

Jing’an Temple

temple

Jing’an Temple

temple

Jing’an Temple

museum

Pretty.

After the temple, we settled down into the lovely grass at Jing’an Park where we were promptly booted out by these officers. They were very strict about the “No sitting or standing on grass” policy. A shame, really. The grass was so nice and well cared for. I challenge you to resist temptation to sit on it.

Park police

The Law

We topped the evening off with cocktails and jazz, which is apparently live and well in Shanghai.

Jazz

Jazz

Until next time, Shanghai!

Editors note: Visas to China are required for many countries and can be expensive, particularly for Americans. If you plan on staying 72 hours or less, you may qualify for the 72-hour Transit Visa Exemption Program. Keep that in mind when booking tickets for a quick weekend and you could save yourself a few hundred dollars.

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Ms Illusion (or should I call her Ms Singapore since she’s so clued in??) tipped me off to Soi 60. For the past few weeks they’ve been running a stellar ladies night featuring free drinks for women from 6:30 til 9. Seems the ladies of Singapore might be a little too thirsty as the previously no obligation free drinks is now 50% off drinks from 6-9. Oh well, it was good while it lasted. The food and atmosphere is pretty decent too. Shanna definitely enjoyed it!

Shanna enjoying cocktails and food at Soi 60

Shanna enjoying cocktails and food at Soi 60

Soi Social  is running every Wednesday until Christmas at Soi 60 at 60 Robertson Quay, #01-04 Quayside

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The haze is back in Singapore and no one is happy about it. World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF) put up these bus stop ads to remind us why. What a great way to inspire us to check the ingredients in the products and foods we buy and purchase less palm oil.

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Check out my original post about the haze here: https://texasonthames.com/2013/06/18/the-sky-is-burning/

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The other day I noticed this odd sign in the office I sometimes work from. It has detailed instructions on how to wash your hands. I mean, I get it if you want to put up a sign reminding people to do it, but are there really people out there that don’t know how?

I apologize for the blurriness, but have you ever tried to discretely take a photo in a busy office bathroom?

An expat friend of mine and I send each other photos of things we think are unusual in Singapore, so naturally this was immediately sent to her. She replied with one of her own. No tutorial but a less than gentle hand washing reminder from an angry cartoon.

Have you???

Have you???

The next day I’m in the hawker market ordering a juice. I am waiting for the juice lady to finish dealing with the trash. She has her fist happily plunging ahead into a bag full of waste for a full 3-4 minutes of my waiting time, before she comes to serve me. I order my juice and patiently wait for her to a.) wash her hands and b.) prepare my juice.

You would guess it, she never took care of part a. She did not even bother to change or remove her glove. When I asked her if she was going to wash her hands, she pretended to not understand me, alienating me with a funny look on her face. What was the strange foreigner asking of her?? Surely it was too difficult and taxing! Let’s intimidate her by furrowing our brow and pretending not to understand why she might be upset or flailing about across the counter. Another lady, a nice one who communicates well in Singlish, had to tell her what was going on. Her hands. The germs. The glove. The trash. My juice.

She leaves halfway through making the juice and another lady takes over. What to do now? Take the juice half way made by trash glove lady or walk away thirsty?

I did not get a juice that day. I also did not get diphtheria, so you win some you lose some.

The takeaway to this post seems to be two-fold.

1.) The wash your hand signs in the bathroom may not be so silly after all. Perhaps it’s not a ritual everyone is accustomed to.

2.) Do not buy juice from the juice stand at Lau Pa Sat.

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I grew up in small town Texas in the 80s. You can make some basic assumptions about the lifestyle and diet there. It’s now a haven for the world’s most amazing tacos, but before the changing demographics, it was known for fried food and BBQ, and subsequently obesity.

My brothers and I were thin by nature. Tall, lanky types who could eat an entire week’s worth of groceries in one sitting. You didn’t leave food for later, it wouldn’t be there. Even if you hid it in the back of the fridge someone would find your stash. We didn’t try to be this way, we just were. We played like normal kids, alternating between outside and the TV.

And people would comment. We were described thin, bony, tall, slinky.

“Look at that girl. She’s so skinny. Wowee! And blonde too, one day she’ll be a model.”

Skinny, dripping with more envy than smart kind or even wealthy ever held. To be described as skinny held even more status than the bible-belt mandated description of Christian.

Skinny was their issue.

Skinny was my virtue.

Skinny became my identity.

lanky

My brother and I on my first day of eighth grade. Make no mistake, I’m not posing. I’m standing like that because I’m uncomfortable with my height and weight. Also, fringe/bangs are an anxiety ridden bathroom DIY job and shoes are a size to big, purchased on sale at Kmart.

In 1999, I moved away to Austin and attended the University of Texas. As you do, I gained 10 pounds in beer and buffets. It was a mad slap to the face.

I started to workout for the first time in my life. Not because I was interested in being healthy, but because I had lost my value. I may have still been thin and healthy, but I was not skinny. I had fallen from grace.

I’ve spent the last 14 years dealing with some level of body dysmorphia. I am not overweight. I am perfectly suited to my frame. I have amazing long legs and a slightly protruding belly. The belly protrudes partly due to my love of food and partly due to structural hip issues. My pelvis tilts forward due to postural problems and hypermobility. I had hip dysplasia at birth. It’s me. It’s my body.

There have been times when I have tried to cheat the system to find my lost virtue. Crash diets, starvation, diet pills. and then there have been times when I have tried other solutions. Postural realignment, exercise, self acceptance. These days I manage OK.

And then there are the days when hell really is other people. I don’t just mean MTV culture and pressure to be thin. I mean other people’s constant comments on your weight. I went to dinner with a friends family, most of which were obese. The dinner chatter kept circling around to my weight. I wasn’t the one doing it.

“Eat, eat, you’re skinny! You can have more!” I wasn’t starving myself, I was full. “I wish I was that skinny, you skinny Minnie!” It wasn’t my body issues that kept an entire dinner’s conversation circling around my size. It was someone else’s.

Or the look of glee on my mother’s face when she relayed a story of my brother arguing that I was not average sized, I was thin. I didn’t share the joy. I know it was suppose to be a compliment, but I could not be comfortable with the knowledge that my family was conferencing over which category of body size I fit in.*

It is uncomfortable to have one of my most personal things, my body, under scrutiny. Uncomfortable when done by strangers and acquaintances, but more intrusively by friends and family. Your daily intake and expenditures, your most basic life choices are watched and judged. You see, once you’ve been skinny, you will only ever be skinny or formerly skinny.

My body is my body. It is what it is. Most importantly, it works. If I eat healthy and take care of it and avoid any major accidents, it will hopefully continue to work just fine. Strong and healthy. This is the mantra I tell myself daily.

For the last year I have lived in Asia where I am large by comparison. I tower above the girls and boys just like in junior high, except this time I am not skinny. I am surrounded by very slight Asian girls. This is their body type. They are not this way by virtue, just like I was not skinny by virtue at age 10.

I step onto my patio and say hello to my neighbor’s domestic helper. We are both hanging morning laundry to dry. I am dressed for an office meeting.

“Oh you look so fat!” she compliments me.

My dress choice of the day is slightly more Christina Hendricks than Kate Moss.

“Oh it’s the dress,” I laugh. I understand that her intention is to describe me as voluptuous, not fat. Her culture values curves and womanliness. I am slightly working the va-va-voom.

I go inside and change clothes anyway. It’s not my culture to aspire to voluptuousness. But then, I don’t really want to be skinny either.

I just want to be me. Healthy and capable. Preferably free from other people’s issues, expectations and judgments, but most importantly, free to pursue other things in my life than skinny.

*Editor’s note: Blessings to my mother and all her good intentions, she didn’t know she was going to have a writer for a daughter.

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Ran across this item while browsing at Dean and Deluca in Orchard Central. Ever tried one of these Green Musk Melons? At 100 SGD (that’s 80 USD or 50 GBP) a piece I hope they are absolutely fantastic! That’s one food item you don’t let rot in your refrigerator.

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