Tagged: travel

#narcloudiaMNL

Dearest ______,

I’d been quietly arranging both flowers and life in my hometown when Bea suddenly broached the idea of flying to Manila for a long weekend with the band to play… and play. I said HELL YEAH within ten minutes. We’d been gigging together as Narcloudia in Singapore for around four years now, and my new non-status in life had just started making me more open to saying YES to most things these days. It was just about time, kismet and all.

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Patterns

Dearest ______,

The older we get, the more we understand how very little in the world is actually and truly unique. As opposed to many years ago, when we donned (the idea of) our innate uniqueness like an armour (i.e. heartbreaks that no one else had ever felt in the past, goals that were very particular results of our individually unique struggles, ideas that no one had ever thought of before, etc).

Through the years though, we’ve grown to appreciate the thought of shared experiences. With the Internet these days, it’s so much easier to see how “everybody is just like everybody else.” Call it Collective Consciousness, or simply the shrinking of the world: most of us know now of lives similar to ours, only lived across different continents around the world.

With divisiveness and extreme Nationalism being some of the most glaring threats to the World Wide Web free world today, we aim to see patterns in our shared humanity. Humankind, that one true race that trumps man-made geographical borders, societal categories, and religious belief systems.

And we should aim to see patterns, so we can be more appreciative; genuinely accepting of the differences that are inherently sewn into our individualities and even our collective cultures.

Love,

Karlita

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Photography and text by Author unless otherwise stated. All rights reserved.

Oranges

Dearest ______,

Gong Xi Fa Cai!

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Living in Singapore, I’ve learned that Mandarin Oranges are an auspicious symbol of good fortune because “tangerine” in Chinese sounds similar to the word “luck” or “wealth”. Hence you see people gifting households with oranges as a way of wishing a home prosperity and an abundance of happiness. More so during the Chinese New Year season (as it is now), it isn’t uncommon to find small trees bearing these fruits all around houses and buildings to usher in good luck.

This CNY, while I do wish that everybody receives plentiful gifts of “tangerine”, I’m also hoping that we all learn how to pick them off of the trees ourselves. May this Year of the Rooster bring each of us the most effective wake-up calls to earnestly grab opportunities and obligations alike, in wake of all our coming days.

Carpe diem! Or, Carpe them oranges! 

Love,

Karlita

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Photography and text by Author unless otherwise stated. All rights reserved.

Country Road

Dearest ______,

Whenever we take road trips around the countryside, it always surprises me when I see solitary figures walking purposefully across miles and miles of flat land; up and down expanses of treelined hills. Sometimes they walk with four- legged friends, sometimes completely alone. But always, walking to directions navigated by their own biological compasses, the same internal makeup that allows them to wake up right before dawn.

In the heart of Mother Nature at her most naked form, unshaven and undone: proof of (human) life! Sons and daughters of the earth.

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Time for Tea

Dearest ______,

I like it how in many parts of the world, tea is an event in itself. I became a recipient of bewildered looks inside a cafe in Casablanca once, when I ordered: “Tea. To go, please.” Older gentlemen huddled around tables were murmuring among themselves as staff behind the counter tried to explain that their cups didn’t come with covers, nor cardboard sleeves.

There I was, right at the beginning of a supposedly relaxing 10-day holiday, rushing to get a hot beverage “to-go” so I can, what, go drink it piping hot while aimlessly walking around? Relax and take several seats, giiirrrl.

For someone who has for years made coffee or tea a minor kickoff for some other thing (i.e. a full day of work, an all-nighter before exams, etc), It still strikes me as unnatural when people suggest that the thing itself is actually the tea. Or the coffee. I’ve met people for meals at all times of the day, always with sides of hot beverage. I’ve hung out, read books, written letters with coffee or tea close by.  But I don’t believe I’ve ever just said:

“Let’s meet for coffee (or tea)!”

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It’s been a couple of years since I started collecting and using my first “nice” crockery. That first one: vintage fine bone china in cobalt blue and gold inlay; an Old Royal from England (est 1846), made in the 1950’s. I’ve been collecting (and using) quite a few more since then, not one of them the least bit rare or expensive, to be honest. Nonetheless, they’re all special to me. Apart from telling stories about where I got each of them from, they’ve also become constant reminders of the ceremony of daily life– “the grand and the granular, both” (as a wise friend once put it).

We should all be so lucky as to have the time to pause and simply sit down to a hot beverage. And if we are, that just warrants a tiny celebration of gratitude, doesn’t it?

Love,

Karlita

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Photography and text by Author unless otherwise stated. All rights reserved.

Hiraeth

Dearest ______,

Is it possible to miss a place that you’ve never been to before?

For the Welsh, this phenomenon is called Hiraeth, which is described as “the nostalgia and the grief for lost places of your past, or places that never were.”

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I had something that vaguely resembled Hiraeth last year: I was standing on the terraces of Cafe Hafa in Tangier (f.1921), looking at the vast shadows of Spain far across the Strait of Gibraltar. Save for the distant crashing of waves and the clinking of silverware on heated glass, it was a quiet day for mint teas. Too quiet in fact, that for a brief moment, I longed for any form of old-world decadence befalling the now sobered up cafe. A little Moroccan shindig, like what we’d all read about when the beatniks were there, way back in the day.

But then I quickly realised how I actually kind of hate commotion (excluding the occasional mosh pit). Burroughs would probably have hated my law-abiding ass. And so Hiraeth quickly turned into Here I Is.

Which wasn’t; isn’t so bad, after all: Here I is.

Love,

Karlita

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Photography and text by Author unless otherwise stated. All rights reserved.