Thursday, February 28, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Recalled to work
As may have been clear, I was in Spain for the last few days, with Joe, Sam and Jess. No bones about it, it was wicked. The flat was beautiful and provisioned with everything you could want from a kitchen, albeit with one of those silly hobs with the hard-to-press non-buttons. And the shampoo was awesome. And did I mention the food? We didn't have a single meal in a restaurant, and you'll hopefully have seen the recipe from my first evening. If all accords to the plan, there will be a set of recipes from these few days made for those who leant us the flat, so I'll see if I can get a copy up here : )
And the music, the dancing, the Alhambra ... sorry for no pictures - my camera was stolen, and the one with all the photos has left its downloady cable in the UK... it's a shame, as i don't really know where to begin with words. Except to say that it was good to be punning again. I have missed it, no lie.
The Alhambra was pretty awesome, - ah, we meant to find out how long it took to carve all the marble walls and wooden ceilings so perfectly. I can see how the hypnotic patterning of Islamic art invokes the infinity of al-Lah, and it is truly stunning. It didn't give a deep spiritual moment a la Ayah Sophia, but then it's a fortress, not a churcheymosquey museum. It did however give gorgeous views over the city of Granada, and further, to the Sierra Nevada. That is a place to hike. Hehe - at work today we were discussing what could go in a future issue of an internal newsletter. Someone suggested good places to hike in Eastern Europe and the CIS. A great idea, I thought. Yes, I know what you're thinking - aren't we supposed to be helping people not be poor/discriminated against/undemocratically governed? Yes, we are. But it seems we are also staffed by people, and like all big corporations have to keep them happy.
Which gently reminds me that I am back in the thick of user-friendlying the website, searching out stories (such as this, comments welcome. You know a country is in dire straits when the UN Resident Representative can give an unscheduled 45 minute interview).
It is acceptable for me and my colleague to confuse the two Spanish verbs to know; it is not acceptable for Microsoft Word to insist that 'people' is a singular noun.
But seriously, I'll be posting some introductory thoughts on development work and the role of the UN and of me, when I get round to transcribing them. For now, this mouthful of blah will do.
And the music, the dancing, the Alhambra ... sorry for no pictures - my camera was stolen, and the one with all the photos has left its downloady cable in the UK... it's a shame, as i don't really know where to begin with words. Except to say that it was good to be punning again. I have missed it, no lie.
The Alhambra was pretty awesome, - ah, we meant to find out how long it took to carve all the marble walls and wooden ceilings so perfectly. I can see how the hypnotic patterning of Islamic art invokes the infinity of al-Lah, and it is truly stunning. It didn't give a deep spiritual moment a la Ayah Sophia, but then it's a fortress, not a churcheymosquey museum. It did however give gorgeous views over the city of Granada, and further, to the Sierra Nevada. That is a place to hike. Hehe - at work today we were discussing what could go in a future issue of an internal newsletter. Someone suggested good places to hike in Eastern Europe and the CIS. A great idea, I thought. Yes, I know what you're thinking - aren't we supposed to be helping people not be poor/discriminated against/undemocratically governed? Yes, we are. But it seems we are also staffed by people, and like all big corporations have to keep them happy.
Which gently reminds me that I am back in the thick of user-friendlying the website, searching out stories (such as this, comments welcome. You know a country is in dire straits when the UN Resident Representative can give an unscheduled 45 minute interview).
It is acceptable for me and my colleague to confuse the two Spanish verbs to know; it is not acceptable for Microsoft Word to insist that 'people' is a singular noun.
But seriously, I'll be posting some introductory thoughts on development work and the role of the UN and of me, when I get round to transcribing them. For now, this mouthful of blah will do.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
attack of the two tone tomato
If jamon is a taste tunnel, coriander is a speedbump. Pan-pan is when, in Spain, there’s still some sauce and spice left, and bread is called upon to do the job.
and now, a recipe:
Picture the scene – a rocket bed, light dressing, and Robert’s homely virgin. Fennel fried slowly to gold. Pit your fresh cherries against some steep sugar and a bit of old balsy. Sizzle your morcilla with chopped fenneltop, dice you pa(prika)tatoes and fry with garlic and the homemarinated olives. Serve to your loved ones.
btw, apologies for the lack of links in these posts, i am on a mac. revising wish to buy one.
and now, a recipe:
Picture the scene – a rocket bed, light dressing, and Robert’s homely virgin. Fennel fried slowly to gold. Pit your fresh cherries against some steep sugar and a bit of old balsy. Sizzle your morcilla with chopped fenneltop, dice you pa(prika)tatoes and fry with garlic and the homemarinated olives. Serve to your loved ones.
btw, apologies for the lack of links in these posts, i am on a mac. revising wish to buy one.
Friday, February 22, 2008
how i've missed headlands
Thursday 21st.
The Zvolensky smotanovy yoghurts are especially good because the yoghurt part is not sweetened at all. It is left up to the flavoured goo in the bottom – in this case blueberry – to give the sugar, so each mouthful can be as sweet, or not, as you like.
This somewhat cheers up the view of the green breeze blocks which keep out the noise of the road behind them, if not of that in front of them. It is cold enough to regret the extra fifteen minutre wait aused by caution with connecting buses, but nothing can really get me down, as this evning I’ll be in spain with Joe, Sam and Jess (if not Ilona).
[A portion of the original text is missing, suffice to say that I successfully boarded a bus eventually.]
With Schengen, Slovak radio has deep penetration into Austrian territory. As they say, different political jurisdiction, same shocking set of English-language trash-hits. You can’t express historical opinions, but you can play Wet Wet Wet after the Everly Brothers after You Are Not Alone. Maybe live performances are subject to harsher restrictions.
You cross the border almost immediately, after Einsteinova, and shortly arrive in Hainburg. I have never set foot in this town, but one day I hope to, if only to give it the chance to redeem itself – at the moment, I think of it only as the place where paranoid western Europeans go to obtain consumer goods and healthcare deemed too risky in Bratislava.
It’s quite a pretty place, larger than the other villages on the road between Europe’s closest capitals, but not looking dissimilar. And it still has a one-car-at-a-time section in the city wall, where everyone has to wait. More adverts, too.
The Austrian side of the border between these two coastless countries is home to a large field of wind turbines, which is the single best thing about travelling from Vienna. I wrote a postcard to Sarah once about their majestic salute to sustainability, their timelessness and wisdom. I love them, simply put (and I want one on my house), which is more than can be said for the Stalinists behind British failure to have them.
And into Barcelona. “Tranquilamente, no te preoccupies. Si bloqueas, otra vez.” !And! a reissued boarding pass for my legs. Finom, Super, Fantastico.
If the bus got to Nerja around 2245, and I was still in the taxi, a fifteen minute ride, at 0015 and later… a destroying experience, but the food made the pain vanish like so much mist. see tomorrow's post.
And just now, we made our own icing sugar!!!!!
The Zvolensky smotanovy yoghurts are especially good because the yoghurt part is not sweetened at all. It is left up to the flavoured goo in the bottom – in this case blueberry – to give the sugar, so each mouthful can be as sweet, or not, as you like.
This somewhat cheers up the view of the green breeze blocks which keep out the noise of the road behind them, if not of that in front of them. It is cold enough to regret the extra fifteen minutre wait aused by caution with connecting buses, but nothing can really get me down, as this evning I’ll be in spain with Joe, Sam and Jess (if not Ilona).
[A portion of the original text is missing, suffice to say that I successfully boarded a bus eventually.]
With Schengen, Slovak radio has deep penetration into Austrian territory. As they say, different political jurisdiction, same shocking set of English-language trash-hits. You can’t express historical opinions, but you can play Wet Wet Wet after the Everly Brothers after You Are Not Alone. Maybe live performances are subject to harsher restrictions.
You cross the border almost immediately, after Einsteinova, and shortly arrive in Hainburg. I have never set foot in this town, but one day I hope to, if only to give it the chance to redeem itself – at the moment, I think of it only as the place where paranoid western Europeans go to obtain consumer goods and healthcare deemed too risky in Bratislava.
It’s quite a pretty place, larger than the other villages on the road between Europe’s closest capitals, but not looking dissimilar. And it still has a one-car-at-a-time section in the city wall, where everyone has to wait. More adverts, too.
The Austrian side of the border between these two coastless countries is home to a large field of wind turbines, which is the single best thing about travelling from Vienna. I wrote a postcard to Sarah once about their majestic salute to sustainability, their timelessness and wisdom. I love them, simply put (and I want one on my house), which is more than can be said for the Stalinists behind British failure to have them.
And into Barcelona. “Tranquilamente, no te preoccupies. Si bloqueas, otra vez.” !And! a reissued boarding pass for my legs. Finom, Super, Fantastico.
If the bus got to Nerja around 2245, and I was still in the taxi, a fifteen minute ride, at 0015 and later… a destroying experience, but the food made the pain vanish like so much mist. see tomorrow's post.
And just now, we made our own icing sugar!!!!!
Monday, February 18, 2008
Today's reason I am useful
And I quote, from our page on human development:
"Understanding what HD means in practice and how policies can be consistent with the HD paradigm is a necessary precondition for sustainable policy alleviation . Thus, the team in Bratislava is addressing misunderstandings [...]."
Although a few countries around here could do with some strategy alleviation (the search doesn't even remark on the Strategy for Youth Development and Health, vital to the country's future, or the Population Strategy (awaiting adoption) or Youth Strategy (ditto). And we also talked about the Strategy for Gender Equality and the Improvement of Women's Position (ditto).
Back to it! And today, as may be evident, I get biscuits.
"Understanding what HD means in practice and how policies can be consistent with the HD paradigm is a necessary precondition for sustainable policy alleviation . Thus, the team in Bratislava is addressing misunderstandings [...]."
Although a few countries around here could do with some strategy alleviation (the search doesn't even remark on the Strategy for Youth Development and Health, vital to the country's future, or the Population Strategy (awaiting adoption) or Youth Strategy (ditto). And we also talked about the Strategy for Gender Equality and the Improvement of Women's Position (ditto).
Back to it! And today, as may be evident, I get biscuits.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
think fast
At the end of January, thinking of a friend who was giving up meat for a while as a test, I decided to eat no biscuits for the month of February. This is a test of my will, nothing more - I have the metabolism to eat a pack of biscuits a day, and I enjoy it. And it's not as though I didn't appreciate biscuits before this. I picked biscuits rather than alcohol, chocolate or anything else because I knew how much I like them.
In a couple of hours, I will be halfway through the fast, and it is painful. Every time I have a cup of tea, which is several times most days, it's hard not to be able to have a biscuit too, likewise at other times (especially as Horalky was deemed to qualify). So I am testing myself, and so far I have been successful. Great
But despite that it seems stupid. Of course I can not eat biscuits for a month. A fast is not particularly self-improving, especially if it will, by common consent, be over sooner or later. Much more beneficial to my life would be to get up an hour earlier every day for a month – the act would be difficult, but have a clear positive effect in giving me more time. And then, since I am in a win-win situation, maybe I would fast beyond the fast. Whereas this fast gives me the superficial impression of having achieved something, a horribly bourgeois doing-without. In some contexts, a very useful ability, pat pat well done I’ve one less thing to worry about when I am posted to Helmand or the Gobi desert.
If I were at risk of getting unhealthy through my biscuit-eating, there would be a reason to give up biscuits, but then it becomes a diet, which is something more inflicted and less enhancing than a fast, even if they generally share the aspect of being temporary and tokenistic.
But this ‘enhancing’ thing is quite key, I think. And since it’s also Lent, what about the spiritual enhancement that comes from a fast? (Of course I could be considered unqualified to comment on religious matters, but in the spirit of inclusiveness, let me be considered differently able.) Giving up the lustful pleasures – food, drink, sex – gives you time to be closer to the gods; same old banal idea that it’s being (selfishly) close to God, rather than seeking to spread happiness, which should concern us. (Fallacy of excluded middle noted.)
But that’s just the silly idea that God has any petty, human need for our spiritual body heat. What I’d question is whether prayer and other highly satisfying religious activities shouldn’t also be considered lustful – surely a regular churchgoer seeking to test their will should abstain from going to church, rather than their naughty nightly nibble?
Would I then suggest giving up reading good books? Or news from the latest US primary? How about small talk? Using the work printer for non-work printing? (No, Yes, Yes, No.) How do you decide which ways of harming your happiness.comfort.routine are improving, and which just leave you miserable?
~
I think I’m more in favour of positive actions. I suppose New Year’s Resolutions are the case in point – the ritualistic sense of diets referred to above comes primarily from the lemmingish set time of year at which they occur.
In conclusion, I have decided how to turn the fast into something appreciable. I will allow myself to eat biscuits every day I get up at half past seven (eight at the weekend and on days when I am not working). And Horalky are to be allowed.
In a couple of hours, I will be halfway through the fast, and it is painful. Every time I have a cup of tea, which is several times most days, it's hard not to be able to have a biscuit too, likewise at other times (especially as Horalky was deemed to qualify). So I am testing myself, and so far I have been successful. Great
But despite that it seems stupid. Of course I can not eat biscuits for a month. A fast is not particularly self-improving, especially if it will, by common consent, be over sooner or later. Much more beneficial to my life would be to get up an hour earlier every day for a month – the act would be difficult, but have a clear positive effect in giving me more time. And then, since I am in a win-win situation, maybe I would fast beyond the fast. Whereas this fast gives me the superficial impression of having achieved something, a horribly bourgeois doing-without. In some contexts, a very useful ability, pat pat well done I’ve one less thing to worry about when I am posted to Helmand or the Gobi desert.
If I were at risk of getting unhealthy through my biscuit-eating, there would be a reason to give up biscuits, but then it becomes a diet, which is something more inflicted and less enhancing than a fast, even if they generally share the aspect of being temporary and tokenistic.
But this ‘enhancing’ thing is quite key, I think. And since it’s also Lent, what about the spiritual enhancement that comes from a fast? (Of course I could be considered unqualified to comment on religious matters, but in the spirit of inclusiveness, let me be considered differently able.) Giving up the lustful pleasures – food, drink, sex – gives you time to be closer to the gods; same old banal idea that it’s being (selfishly) close to God, rather than seeking to spread happiness, which should concern us. (Fallacy of excluded middle noted.)
But that’s just the silly idea that God has any petty, human need for our spiritual body heat. What I’d question is whether prayer and other highly satisfying religious activities shouldn’t also be considered lustful – surely a regular churchgoer seeking to test their will should abstain from going to church, rather than their naughty nightly nibble?
Would I then suggest giving up reading good books? Or news from the latest US primary? How about small talk? Using the work printer for non-work printing? (No, Yes, Yes, No.) How do you decide which ways of harming your happiness.comfort.routine are improving, and which just leave you miserable?
~
I think I’m more in favour of positive actions. I suppose New Year’s Resolutions are the case in point – the ritualistic sense of diets referred to above comes primarily from the lemmingish set time of year at which they occur.
In conclusion, I have decided how to turn the fast into something appreciable. I will allow myself to eat biscuits every day I get up at half past seven (eight at the weekend and on days when I am not working). And Horalky are to be allowed.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
tongue salad
because they all jostle around in my head...
because I'm working as an editor...
because they are wicked fun...
because, in another long, mixolingual conversation, I have just learned the song below...
because it is a central feature of my life here...
because of the smile on the face of the waitress in Sap...
for want of a better name...
I have called this blog tongue salad. That may change, but it's there for now.
Fele Magyar, fele Tott
Kupili sme malacat
De a malac elfutot
Kupili sme masikot
Half Hungarian, half Slovak
We bought a pig
But the pig ran away
So we bought another
Any comments about my lamentable Greek mildly appreciated at best. Ditto any suggestion that actually I have a preference for Shopska salat.
It's good to be back!
Chris
because I'm working as an editor...
because they are wicked fun...
because, in another long, mixolingual conversation, I have just learned the song below...
because it is a central feature of my life here...
because of the smile on the face of the waitress in Sap...
for want of a better name...
I have called this blog tongue salad. That may change, but it's there for now.
Fele Magyar, fele Tott
Kupili sme malacat
De a malac elfutot
Kupili sme masikot
Half Hungarian, half Slovak
We bought a pig
But the pig ran away
So we bought another
Any comments about my lamentable Greek mildly appreciated at best. Ditto any suggestion that actually I have a preference for Shopska salat.
It's good to be back!
Chris
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