Longing and Determination

Warning: An “Italy is Not the Paradise you Expected, Not-so-Cheery” post is to follow.

I’ve had a very unproductive weekend. Early on Saturday morning, I drove Deme to Malpensa, the airport in Milan, 1.5 hours away, for his flight to Seattle. The drive was frustrating because after a 30-45 minute stretch of highway, we had to divert ourselves onto two lane roads, straight through 4 small towns before finally reaching the airport. Needless to say this route was quite indirect, a true commuting hassle. On the way back home I missed a turn, and ended up on my way back to the airport. I’ve always been “direction deficient”. After arriving in Seattle, my main challenge was figuring out north vs. south and east vs. west. (During my first year in Seattle, any direction that was in front of me was north.) A lowly 45 minutes after my mix-up I realized my mistake.

The rest of the weekend was spent distracting I; trying to forget the fact I was alone. I wrote letters, listened to music, cleaned the entire house, backwards and forwards. The whines of the dog by the door every time he heard elevator moving between floors did not help. While cleaning Deme’s office of dust, old receipts and loose tobacco, I found a box I had been looking for. It contained all our cookbooks. I took my favorite cookbook out “Hot, Sour, Salty, Sweet-A Journey Through Southeast Asia” and began to rifle through the recipes. I was flooded with two emotions at the same time: longing and determination.

Often I think of my parents, all their struggles and all they have taught me. This is a very Chinese thing to say but then I am Chinese aren’t I. All my years in American have softened me a bit but will never erase:

-Chinese New Year with all the good omens it brings, the vibrant red envelopes, the moon cakes, the visits with cherished family and friends.
-My mom’s Pho, one of my favorite foods, the most fragrant broth I’ve ever tasted, enhanced by my favorite herb in the world, (I have no idea how to spell it in English) I only know how to pronounce it in Vietnamese.
-My dad’s wonton, they would give Piemontese angolotti del plin a run for its money.

We have promised my parents that our first major vacation will be to Guam. I’ve had a generous offer from the Daudon Family, whom I used to work for, to come back to Seattle with their frequent flyer miles but I won’t break my promise to my parents. I just hope we can make it before our first wedding anniversary in December.

Southeastern Asian food is fantastic, as a child I ate curries, fragrant soups with tamarind, wild limes, things I can no longer readily get my hands on. I miss these foods; I want to be able to re-create them. Adriana, an old friend of Deme’s, who lives in London, gave a wonderful gift the last time I was in Rome. It melted my heart since I knew my husband had told her how much I missed home, how hard it has been for me to find Asian ingredients. Since I have not spoken to her in over 6 months I knew her gift was my husbands doing. When we went to pick her up she handed me a bag of the most pungent, “I can smell it through a plastic bag and an unopened jar” authentic fermented Thai shrimp paste!!!! I almost leapt with joy. I am determined to turn my longing into something material, namely food. Maybe then I will feel less culturally impoverished. Maybe then I will feel less lonely.