Keeping Up Appearances...

I work in a sales environment and therefore I have to dress very conservatively so that I do not distract from the product that I sell. I wear suits and nylons every day at work. It can be a pain, but unfortunately people do care about what I look like. I enjoy my job and so I must conform, even though I would prefer to wear sweats. Which brings me to my topic today of how much do we judge other's appearance and make assumptions?

Both of my parents attended Brigham Young University in Provo and Hawaii. My mother earned a masters degree in library science and is very well read. She received her degrees in a language that is not her native tongue. To this day she is very self-conscientious of her accent and her English diction is better than most Americans who are raised with English as their first and only language. It annoys me when I go to places with her and as soon as people see her and hear an accent they automatically assume they can not understand her. I will illustrate a point by using a personal experience with an Aunt of mine.

My Aunt was coming to Salt Lake City to visit and attend a conference. I work in a downtown hotel and therefore I invited her to stay at my hotel instead of where the conference was being held. My aunt has a Ph.D. She is fluent in English and Tongan. She was checking into the hotel and speaking to her brother who lives in Salt Lake in Tongan. Whether they didn't notice that they were at the counter or what happened prior to coming to the counter, I don't know. The front desk agent began to speak loudly...and slowly.

"DO YOU HAVE A RES-ER-VA-TION?" To which they replied with an odd look at her,
"Yes." they gave her their confirmation number and credit card. They must have begun speaking in Tongan again. Because from what I heard, she began to motion in large sweeping hand movements. "YOU NEED TO SIGN." They signed and started laughing. My friend who supervised the front desk came and spoke to her afterwards and apologized to me. She told me that my aunt spoke perfect English, with a slight British accent (most Tongans in Tonga have British or New Zealanders as teachers and it is mandatory to speak only English in schools). I suppose the agent only saw and heard what she wanted to hear. I was horrified, my Aunt just laughed when I apologized, she said it was no big deal.

My favorite line in the movie Selena, is when she is discussing with her father what growing up in America is like versus Mexico. Her father tells her "Just because I speak with an accent doesn't mean I think with an accent." I try to avoid making judgements on people based on appearance, however I am human. What about you?

Travel Should Take You Places...

I'm BAAAAACK! I just got back from a very fun mini vacation in New York City with one of my dearest friends who is more like a sister to me than just a friend. We saw Mary Poppins, ate great food hung out with my cousin who lives in Boston and a friend I haven't seen in years. It was all great. However, as you know, my blog is not a travel log of my exploits. I mean, it would only be so interesting if it was just a travel log. So, as usual, here are some things I've learned since coming back.

1. You need to ask the street vendors if their food is fresh BEFORE you purchase it.

We found this out when on our first day we bought our beloved roasted coconut. Yeah, not so good if its not fresh. So we asked the next time and were much happier.

2. Cab Drivers do not know addresses....

When we were trying to find the Mesa Grill, which was Bobby Flay's restaurant, we gave the cab driver the address and he dropped us off at 102st Street we needed to be between 15th and 16th Street. Yeah, we never depended on them to get us to our destination before we mapquested and looked at a map. It saved us a couple of times.

3. Everyone loves F.A.O. Schwartz....

Everyone is a kid at heart. People from all over the world assemble in New York City, which is one of the reasons I love it. However, when they are at F.A.O. Schwartz we are all childlike it doesn't matter what our religion is or where we are from, we all can't wait to see the child's face when we give them our present and are excited to play with their toys. Its all about the kids right? P.S. I loved the BIG PIANO from BIG. Soooo, fun! ;)

4. Cell phones can be the bane of our love life and the cell phone dealers our mortal enemies...

A cousin stayed with us a few days, her cell phone had a problem, it wouldn't charge. She was waiting for a VERY important call. It came, however her phone was DEAD. We went to a dealer to get it fixed. Some 18 year old kid who told us to go to another dealer and refused to help. DORK! I think they shouldn't let kids under 21 in ANY customer service capacity.

5. Traveling with only one check in bag, is TOUGH!

Even though my friend and I were only gone for five days, we are ladies and must prepare for any event. Limiting our luggage to under 50 lbs and only with ONE checked bag is torture for us. We had to think twice before all of our purchases and used the bathroom scale to weigh before we left for the airport. We packed and strategized in a manner that would make those who prepare to hike K2 (I say K2 because we only strategized seriously the morning we left, so not Mount Everest) proud. Her bag came in at 49 lbs. Yay! Mine, they didn't weigh because it looks so small. However, although I believe mine was heavier. hehehe! Take that Major Airline Carrier!

6. Coming home is LOVELY!

I love to travel and visit friends and places, but coming home to family and friends is always the best. Except when you're room is a mess from packing the morning of because you were preparing for a work talent show. Yeah, that will have to wait for another blog.

Facts about food you may not know...

1. Chinese cabbage is not the same as regular cabbage...

Yes. I learned this today, which is what inspired my blog. I should not have listened to my mother, who also substituted green beans for regular beans when making chili once. Yes, you read it correctly, this is why we only let my father cook. He is a fantastic cook. Which is why I am looking for a man who can cook as well.

2. Hawaiian Haystacks...are not Hawaiian..

I know this may be a shock to some of you, its true. The first time I had Hawaiian Haystacks was when my uncle's wife prepared them, she is Caucasian. I had them again, when I went on my LDS Mission to Sacramento. One of the church members invited us over, she wanted to make me some food from home. So, she made us Hawaiian Haystacks. She was very sweet and said, "does this remind you of home?" I said, "kind of ,I grew up in Utah and some of my family lives in Hawaii, so I love chicken and pineapple." I didn't know what to say. So, she made me admit it by asking this question. "Doesn't your Mom, make you this all the time?" So, I had to tell her the truth, "My Mom doesn't cook. My Dad does and this is only the second time, I've had this. Its not really 'Hawaiian' it just has pineapple and chow mien noodles. But, I love it." Awkward.

3. Churros are not Mexican...

I went to Cabo San Lucas and thought that they would have these, yeah no. Only at Costco and Sam's Club or at State fairs. Fo' Reals.

4. Not all Latin Food is Mexican...

I know, I had a companion from Puerto Rico. She barely spoke any English. She loved cheese whiz and hated Mexican food. We had another member who made tacos for us to help her feel at home. Same thing, not Puerto Rican.

5. Mongolian BBQ is not Mongolian...

I had a companion from Mongolia who barely spoke any English. She was great. She loved to cook Mongolian food, it was very good. Very meat and potatoes, not many vegetables. Another member decided to take us to Mongolian BBQ and she said "Sister, this not Mongolian, I cook Mongolian, this Chinese." It is still good, I don't care where you're from.

6. Spam is delicious...

Yes, you read it right. Fry me up some spam and rice and I am a happy girl. I love Spam Musubi. However, as it says on the label, it is a meat product. Which means it is not from a Spanimal. There are no Paniolo's (Hawaiian Cowboys) roping up spam. I don't care, its still my favorite breakfast, spam, eggs & rice. Yummy.

So, if you ever travel to Latin American, don't expect to eat Burritos or have fresh Pico de Gallo everywhere. If you go to Hawaii, get a spam breakfast, but not with peanut butter cups (50 First Dates).

Diets and Exercise...why?

I am on weight watchers, I don't enjoy not eating my favorite foods. But, the idea of being heavy and uncomfortable with myself is worse than the cravings. So, I've been running and dieting. The hardest part of the diet is not the food denial, its the exercise.

I hate to exercise, I know hate is a strong word...I REALLY STRONGLY DISLIKE exercise. I think its because as a girl, you do everything in your power to make sure nothing jiggles and moves. We're all tucked-in, pulled-up, stretched-out and moved-around. Just so nothing moves when you walk. When you start to exercise, it all falls-out , scrunches together, goes together and droops. I don't know why people say you meet cute people at the gym. I have yet to see anyone at the gym that I have thought, "ooh, that mismatched outfit wearing, heavily breathing, sweat under their armpits, ugly shoes person, yes! I gotta get me some of that." Nobody looks like they are happy to be at the gym. I used to go with a friend, but we never talked, we focused on simply getting through our exercise and could barely catch our breath. Everyone is very serious and looking continuously at the clock. We all are timing ourselves to make sure we get our 30 min cardio and 30 min strength training. Once that sixty minutes is up, we are GONE! At least I am. Then I stop at Jake's and reward myself. Remind me again, why am I exercising? ;D

America...What a country.

So growing up as a child of immigrants is quite an interesting adventure. Let alone, growing up looking different in Utah. I have been thinking about this since last month. While I have known I was different since I was a child, last month I was with a client at the Jerry Seinfeld concert and the client turned around and looked at the Abravanel Hall crowd and said, "Wow, that's scary," and then laughed. I looked around at the beautiful hall and didn't notice anything odd, so I asked, "what's scary?" He looked at me as if I should know and said, "everyone is white in here, there is no color." He is a Caucasian man and so, it just struck me as odd. He asked me if I had grown up in Utah, I said yes. He said that is probably why I don't notice how odd it is to have a crowd of almost no diversity except the clients which we had brought with us. He was from Houston and before that, New Orleans. I love Utah, don't get me wrong, I am glad my parents raised me here, but like every region in the United States, we have our quirks. It is never more obvious, except when you are a child. So, here are some fun stories about growing up and being different.

Growing up, both of my parents worked very hard. My mother earned citizenship when she was 30 through my father, my father was already a resident alien when they married. We have had different aunts and uncles stay with us throughout the years. It has been a blessing for us to get to know our relatives and grow up with them. It is not uncommon among immigrant families to have multiple families living in one house. In fact in much of the world, multi-generational housing is not only common, it is expected. Both my parents are the oldest child. My mother of 11 siblings and my father of nine. So, one Halloween, a relative of my mother's was staying with us. She was older and so she stayed home to pass out the candy while the rest of us ran around the neighborhood. When we came back home, we knocked on our front door and said, "trick or treat." She opened up the door and was holding our piggy bank. Ready to give us our pennies as a treat. Somehow, in the middle of the trick or treating frenzy she had run out of candy, instead of simply saying no candy, she began passing out apples, pencils (I don't guarantee they were all new) and had started passing out our piggy bank money when we came home. We just laughed, the neighbors probably thought we were nuts, what's new.

My family used to have frequent gatherings when we were growing up which required a pig roasted. My uncles and father would go to a farmer and purchase a pig, then butcher it and prepare it on a spit. It would often take the entire day to roast the pig in an open pit. The neighbors would drive by and gawk at my father and uncles turning something over an open fire. We would call the fire department before hand and let them know. Why? because people see smoke and call 911, its a crazy thing. ;)

One day my older brother, who was in elemetary, got into a fight with one of the neighborhood kids, he was sent home and my mother was very upset and asked him why did he get into a fight. He said, "So and so, said that he lost his dog and that our family killed it and ate it because he saw us cooking it outside." My mother looked horrified and my Dad asked him if he had hit him good. Crazy Tongans.

My older brother and sister in High School, met a Tongan boy who was, as we describe them, Fresh off the Boat (F.O.B.). He was having a difficult time with his older sister that he was living with. My parents adopted him (in the Tongan way, no actual documents) and we refer to him as our brother to this day. One day my older brother was speaking to my younger brother and telling him a knock knock joke. It went like this.

OB: Knock, knock.
YB: Who's there?
OB: Little Old Lady
YB: Little Old Lady, who?
OB: I didn't know you could yodel.

Geeky I know, they were in High School and elementary, what do you expect. They started laughing so hard all three brothers.

my adopted brother laughed so hard and asked my older brother to tell the joke to him. So the conversation went as follows:

OB: Knock, knock
AB: Knock knock who
OB: No you're supposed to say who's there?
AB: ah, okay okay, do it again.
OB: Knock, knock
AB: Who's there (he smiled)
OB: Little old lady
AB: Who's there? (still smiling)
OB: No you're supposed to say little old lady who?
AB: Oh, oh, go again. sorry
OB: Little old lady
AB: Little.. old.. lady.. who?
OB: I didn't know you could yodel?
To which my adopted brother began an uproarious laughter. My brothers laughed shaking their heads.

My adopted brother then turned to my little brother and began the following conversation:

AB: Knock, knock.
YB: who's there?
AB: kran-ma
YB: (puzzled look on his face) grandma who?
AB: I didn't know you can yodels?
To which he began to laugh just as hard.
OB: You can't say grandma, you have to say "little old lady"
AB: grandma, little old lady, what's the different.

Some jokes, you just can't translate.