tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53643445940594334562024-02-20T15:36:00.201-05:00cavaan© all rights reservedcavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.comBlogger179125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-6719663250794570702022-03-17T07:30:00.002-04:002022-05-19T20:12:51.634-04:00all fun and games<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1188" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2022/02/charlotte_nicdao_1.jpg" width="800" /><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">
charlotte</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-91894873589609268932022-03-16T06:20:00.003-04:002022-03-16T06:20:30.382-04:00a teddy bear at sea<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1188" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2022/03/great-ocean-road-1.jpg" width="800" /><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">
lucia</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-52549820911917156132021-12-09T06:15:00.000-05:002021-12-09T06:15:00.197-05:00channelling orange<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1188" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2021/12/emma-do-1.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1188" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2021/12/emma-do-2.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1188" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2021/12/emma.jpg" width="800" /><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">
emma</div><div><br /></div>cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-72981715920763471042021-12-01T19:23:00.007-05:002021-12-01T19:33:24.995-05:00wet season<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="540" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2021/12/highway.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="540" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2021/12/place-where-someone-got-mauled-by-crocs-1.jpg" width="800" />
<div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">
perpetual mist, constant haze, heavy rain, aggressive insects, these birds that—<i>i swear</i>—spoke to me in english.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">my photos do zero justice for tropical north queensland. things not pictured:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">pic 1. descending a mountain to see the tallest waterfall drop in australia and seeing this ginormous toad. (so i never used to be scared of anything except maybe getting kidnapped, but somehow in australia these kids taught me to be scared of everything. i once picked up a toad at camp and carried it to show the other kids and this girl screamed, telling me it was carrying diseases and i was going to die. now i see a toad and i get a fright not because of it but because it reminds me of the time when i was ostracised for touching a toad as a 10 year old)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">pic 2. in the middle of cairns cbd there is just this large public outdoor pool and i'm kind of thinking every city should have one.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">pic 3. rosie, who was at rusty's market, taught me how to weave a basket. i wanted to learn how to weave a fan and she said 'no... i only know how to weave baskets' no worries, i now have two baskets.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">pic 4. swimming in a volcanic crater. (okay you got me, i <i>still</i> don't know how to swim. but i prodded along and drifted and had a conversation about racism and land ownership for an hour with a random person while in the water)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">pic 5. thinking it would be a good idea to sleep by a dam. the dam made lots of noises and was surrounded by tiny frogs (they were the size of your littlest finger nail and they covered the ground everywhere your shoes didn't) (yes they jumped up and down while making tiny croaks). the whole scene could have been directed by alfred hitchcock... and yet it wasn't as scary as seeing the singular giant toad. wait a minute—where they actually tiny toads????</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">[muffled screams]</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">pic 6. all the times i cooked nissin ramen over a portable stove, and the water boiled real quick which had me so freaked out i googled and learnt that water boils at a lower temperature when at a higher altitude.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">pic 7. daintree. this place has rivers that will pull you away, crocs that will definitely eat you, bugs that glow in the dark at night—and during the day, a superb ice creamery, oh and a forest that will swallow you whole if you let it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">pic 8. basically all the waterfalls i dipped my feet into while my arms got torn alive by flies above water. these flies had wingspans the size of a dorito chip, and a painful bite not dissimilar to me trying to tear open tofu packaging with the stab of a knife.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">there were many other kodak moments, but i brought a roll of fuji film so i couldn't capture them.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">if i could do this again, i would avoid the wet season.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-48225951118639999362021-02-03T21:46:00.009-05:002021-08-06T07:16:56.729-04:00the mess in meknes<div style="text-align: justify;"><img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1188" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2020/12/rachel.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="540" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2020/12/rachel-2.jpg" width="800" /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">
rachel</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">there is a reason why when acts of kindness occur, people say 'and now my faith in humanity is restored'. the future of humanity lies in compassion. and normal levels of serotonin. <i>i think</i>. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">rachel and i were to catch a bus from meknes to chefchaouen in the morning. it was only 10 am but the heat of the sun meant any enclosed space was a sauna in the making. we hopped on the bus and as we waited, i suddenly felt pain throughout my arms and legs. i had never experienced such intense pain (that didn't involve a large piece of iron, gravity, and my skull). it began out of nowhere... my muscles felt like they were being put through a mincer, i started imagining what a moroccan hospital stay would be like.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">while praying and trying to manifest myself out of this pain, the light suddenly started vignetting white, and i knew exactly where this was headed. the bus was still humming its engine, and the heat in the bus was rising. i turned to rachel, and explained to her my vision was blurring and that any moment now, i was going to lose consciousness. i told her not to worry, i was simply going to faint and be unresponsive for 10-15 minutes. she could squeeze my hand or put my legs above my body. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">she asked if we should go to the hospital and i said no (translation: who gets travel insurance anymore?). </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">then slowly everything became white until it was black. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">i woke up to the flutter of rachel fanning paper. i felt extremely weak and could barely open my eyes. i told her i needed to throw up, and used all my might to stand up and inch towards the front of the bus. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">the bus was still idling with its engine on. some people on the bus must have known i fainted, because when i got off, someone mentioned i needed to find a bathroom and this tiny man who has been trying to earn a few tips putting luggages away for the travellers took me by the hand and guided me to the bathroom hundreds of metres away. not dissimilar to a pitch black, stone cold, 1m x 1m dungeon, i proceeded to throw up my breakfast. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">when i left the cubicle a lady came out of nowhere and started screaming while yanking my dress. <i>please, this is yohji yamamoto</i>, i whisper. <i>kidding</i>. i tried to move away but she wouldn't budge. the man has been waiting for me a few metres away from the bathroom and comes over, he tells the lady to leave me alone but she continues screaming. he quickly reaches into his pocket and gives her five dirhams. she tugs on me even harder and shouts even louder. he sighs and gives her another 20 dirhams and pulls me away before she can grab my dress again.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">as he guides me back, i think about how i have to give him something when i get back on the bus. i must thank him. return the money and effort. he pushes me up onto the bus as it starts to taxi away from the station. i am tired, emotional, delirious, in pain, sick, and with the bus moving away before i can grab anything for him, i feel the regret of not being able to repay him start to build.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">i drift in and out of consciousness for the duration of the 5 or 6 hour bus trip. rachel checks on me every now and then.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">when my mind clears a few days later, i think what i had was food poisoning. the discomfort of which lasted for ten days. the effects of the stranger's kindness lasted longer, but the fact that he paid for my inconvenience and i never got to return it haunts me to this day. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">yes, all my nightmares are about socio-economic inequality, and being kidnapped. mostly the former.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com4Meknes, Morocco33.8730164 -5.54072995.5627825638211519 -40.6969799 62.183250236178843 29.6155201tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-72523768413709141252020-01-17T06:19:00.001-05:002021-10-11T05:29:06.344-04:00notes from spring<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1184" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2020/01/3.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="540" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2020/07/sedum.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1184" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2020/01/2.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="540" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2020/07/kangaroo-paws.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="540" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2020/01/4.jpg" width="800" /><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
lucia</div>
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</div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-15463727838228150512020-01-11T04:28:00.000-05:002020-02-16T04:32:58.988-05:00a good food guide<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div>
met a boy in verona with peach fuzz on his cheeks, so tall he looked like a skyscraper in the supermarket checkout line. we chatted briefly and he told stories of dislocating shoulders, six or seven or eight times. apparently once it happens, it'll always happen. <i>once i was lifting myself onto a floating raft in a lake, and another time i was writing... with intent.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
he made some tea and it was the best tea i had ever had. when i asked for the recipe, he said it was:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>black tea</b></div>
<div>
with lots of <b>ginger</b></div>
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and lots and lots of <b>honey</b></div>
<div>
a lot of <b>honey</b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
quelque chose comme ca? i tried it recently... and is it just me, or do drinks and food always taste better when someone else makes it?<br />
<br />
i'm taken back to a time many years ago when i made some shin ramyun for a friend because we hadn't ate dinner, she told me it was the best noodles she had ever tasted. which had to be a lie because she grew up in the noodle mecca that is singapore, but if that's how she felt about my two minute noodle skills which i had been perfecting since i was 8 years old then okay—but even thinking about it now makes me emotional, the thought that one could make the <i>best</i> of something simply by sharing it.<br />
<br />
you can make<br />
the best of something<br />
by sharing it<br />
<br />
—ooh, my first haiku for the year.<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-7260034628364538312019-10-02T19:59:00.002-04:002020-07-21T23:29:20.570-04:00taipei to taichung<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="540" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2020/07/taipei-night-markets.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="540" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2020/07/taiwan-at-night.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="540" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/10/taipei-1.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="540" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/10/taipei-4.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="540" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2020/07/taichung.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="540" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/10/feng-jia-night-market-1.jpg" width="800" /><br />
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the camera i was using here was a point and shoot which meant i had less control of the composition... which i guess is like being in asia in general. you don't know where to look, there is something happening somewhere all the time. </div>
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we went to taipei because it has been a minute since i had <a href="https://cavaan.blogspot.com/2010/12/taipei-taiwan.html" target="_blank">been</a>. then we went to taichung to see something else. the milk teas and mango slushies and fruit juice concoctions made me euphoric. the mushroom hot pots had my heart soaring. i learnt taichung produces most of taiwan's mushrooms, and in one of the farms we ate mushroom tempura, mushroom soup, mushroom rice and drank mushroom juice for lunch. there was also mushroom ice cream. i didn't eat that because gluttony is real and sometimes you need a reason to keep living. (that took a sudden dark turn???)</div>
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we also met a boy called 'little big brother', i asked him why he was little big brother, and he said someone else was already big big brother.</div>
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cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-64870581412702846862019-09-15T09:02:00.005-04:002021-02-03T22:01:53.593-05:00under the crescent and star<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="533" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/09/morocco-2-marrakech-medina.jpg" title="marrakech medina" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="533" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/09/morocco-5-moulay-idriss.jpg" title="moulay idriss" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="533" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/09/morocco-3-meknes.jpg" title="meknes" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1188" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/09/morocco-7-volubilis.jpg" title="rachel <3" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="533" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/09/morocco-8-volubilis.jpg" title="volubilis" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="533" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/09/morocco-6-roman-bath.jpg" title="roman bath" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1188" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2021/02/moulay-idriss-zerhoun.jpg" title="moulay idriss" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="533" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2021/02/morocco-10-rachel.jpg" title="rachel" width="800" /></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
the plane lands and the passengers all rise immediately during taxi. everyone is standing and opening the overhead lockers while the staff sighs over the intercom. <i>please stay seated and do not open the overhead lockers</i>. it gets repeated a few times, and has no effect. by the time the plane stops, people are all lined up in the aisles with their belongings.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
when we disembark the person who had sat next to me, and borrowed a pen, says 'au revoir' and quickens his pace. naturally we meet again in the crawling passport control line. he asks me after we exit if i need a lift into town. i think about how you should never accept lifts from strangers and i answer 'yes'.</div>
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<br /></div>
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he drops me off right outside the old city a hundred meters from where i need to be. kindness from strangers. damn. i want be thankful but all i manage to muster is a simple thank you tinged by the mild shock of my peripheral vision: 100 stray cats (at least) jumping around, kids yelling '¡hola!', the pungent smell of dead fish, and the beginning of every person in sight breaking their fast for the day. it was sensory overload.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
years ago when i was visiting the beautiful home of a family friend, i went through quite a few coffee table books in their study. there was one on interior design in morocco and a home in tangier made such an impression i knew i had to visit the city that housed it. well, now i have a different impression of tangier. but that's fine...</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
there is a fat cat that will not stop jumping on me as i eat. at one point she puts her jaw around my arm. <i>stop stroking my head and give me a shred of food you piece of garbage</i>—was probably what she wanted to say. i give her a few olives at regular intervals so her tail can stop caressing my face and allow me to lunge forward to take a bite of my dinner.</div>
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wow, so i'm finally here, i think as i fall asleep the first night. before suddenly experiencing a pan of panic about how dehydrated that cat might be from all the olives.</div>
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two days later i meet rachel in marrakech and the fun—<i>however interpreted</i>—really begins. those stories another time though? we travelled the country, we met some good people, we met some bad people, rachel bought a tagine, i fainted on a bus. something like that.</div>
<br /></div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-55435092759115075252019-04-24T13:04:00.002-04:002021-12-02T05:59:27.846-05:00river runs<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="535" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/04/verona-1.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="535" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2018/12/turin-1.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="535" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/04/marostica-itlay.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="535" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/04/venice-7.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="535" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2018/12/train.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="535" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/09/arles.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="537" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2021/06/turin-3.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="537" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2021/06/turin-4.jpg" width="800" />
<br />
<br />
1. verona<br />
2. torino<br />
3. marostica<br />
4. venice<br />
5. côte d'azur<br />
6. arles</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">7. torino</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">8. other side of torino<br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-705428166270360912019-04-23T10:59:00.002-04:002020-01-04T00:32:40.266-05:00the tourist <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1188" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/04/venice-6.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1188" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/04/venice-2.jpg" width="800" />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
when you are <i>not</i> travelling-in-a-relationship, you will be the designated photographer for a lot of random couples. sometimes i offer if i am in the middle of some deep ass swiss valley with no one in sight and they are struggling to rest their newly purchased dslr on a boulder of sorts. most of the times, if you are somewhere popular—paris, prague, (gah i'm out of <i>p</i> cities), rome, london—people just naturally form a line in front of a monuement and hand me their cameras as if i won't do that joke where i take a rapid step to run just to see their panic.</div>
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then, the polite couples will usually turn and ask me if i'd like a photo. i only said 'yes' once, in 2011. i was in london and there was some parade going on, a couple asked me to take their photo, and i did. then the couple asked if i'd like a photo, i passed them my camera and forgot about it.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
months later i was looking through all the developed photos and there was just a random one of a blurred buckingham palace with a parade in front. it was kind of on an unintentional dutch angle, as if the shutter had pushed one side of the camera down. <i>what is this photo???</i> i searched the photo like a page of where's wally for a clue of why i might have taken it. then in the lower left hand corner, i see my face, but <i>just</i> my face, taking up 1/20th of the frame. you'd think i accidentally walked into the shot.<br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
though i feel like with instagram culture, most people are pretty good photographers these days? so i should try and say yes again in the future to finally update that profile picture from 2016.<br />
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</div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-27005882179753429352019-02-23T15:15:00.002-05:002021-12-02T06:00:09.050-05:00synchronicity<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
the other day i caught a train to see the <i>dune du pilat</i> which is a pile of sand an hour from bordeaux. when i arrived i was reminded again of my love for oceans and forests and the mist that settles around where they meet. the place can be described as an underwhelming and rationed version of dunes in australia. i'm not saying this dune wasn't good enough, because it was beautiful, but let's just say there's more sand to be found at a chinese construction site.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
towards the end of my trip i encountered a taiwanese mother and son duo on holiday in the region for the week. the son told me i could hang out with them if i wanted to—as i was alone.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
yesterday i was talking to my love about how i met these two people from taiwan and he said 'oh, i met a taiwanese person recently,' i looked at him and knew, 'it's the same person.' </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
me: he's tall-ish and has a bowl-like cut if the bowl was a very shallow dish that could double as a plate... </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
him: yeah...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
me: he speaks english with an american accent and is super polite!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
him: yeah</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
me: *pulls out a photo* IS THIS HIM??</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
him: *bursts into laughter* yeah!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
damn, in taiwan they call that 缘分.</div>
<br /></div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-52533594770971276902019-01-10T12:46:00.002-05:002021-06-16T06:29:00.603-04:00when i saw stars in the sea<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="535" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2021/06/les-calanques-2.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="535" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/01/les-calanques.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="535" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/01/les-calanques-4.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1188" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2021/06/les-calanques-1.jpg" width="800" /><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
les calanques near marseille—there are numerous—i went to the calanque de sugiton because it was the easiest to reach. i had woken up at five am that day because i had to catch a flight to marseille airport which was (still is) 100% not in marseille, then a bus to town, then a subway to an outer suburb, then a bus to an even outer suburb, and then hike an hour. so you can bet your bottom dollar i stayed in the sun until i was out of snacks to eat and pages to read but mainly snacks to eat.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
walking back up the stone steps by the sea made me feel like i was in some cinematic version of a greek summer. the grand rock formations by the crystal clear water easily drew out human emotions, like you felt... if a town was at its sea-step it would bear only love stories. of course then you catch the bus back into marseille and the love story becomes some gritty redemption film.</div>
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="535" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2019/09/marseille-1.jpg" width="800" /><br />
<br /></div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-28040087121843957922018-10-17T17:06:00.000-04:002019-02-23T15:24:31.429-05:00polaroid portraits<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1024" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2018/10/la-02.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1024" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2018/10/otsu-nz.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1018" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2018/10/la-01.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="998" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2018/10/la-yalun.jpg" width="800" />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
instant</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-8464982308612662132018-09-20T08:41:00.000-04:002018-09-20T08:41:07.708-04:00everything the sun touches<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="540" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2018/09/vaux-sur-mer-1.jpg" width="800" /><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
vaux sur mer</div>
<br /></div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-78092463111265792752018-09-19T08:40:00.000-04:002019-02-06T11:49:22.630-05:00collecting stories at airports<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
there was a security scare at frankfurt airport and i was stuck for a while, majority of my time was spent eating soft pretzels (at one point i bought five thinking i will ration them but i ate them one after another and have no regrets, tbh my only regret is not eating more). between eating, i spoke to others i encountered, here are a few of many people:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
julien</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
48 hours earlier, julien had been drinking a beer while steering a boat on a lake in kraków. he was then arrested by the 'boat police' and thrown in jail where he stayed for 24 hours, before being released and given a fine he doesn't intend on paying. he didn't speak any polish, and he didn't call the french ambassador when he was arrested because he didn't want to worry his parents. he says he was stripped fully, and then searched beyond <i>that</i>. he shared a cell with a chainsmoker and didn't eat the one meal he was served. he tells the story with humour and adds 'you know this story is way better in french, it's a shame you are hearing it in english because my english is... <i>comment on dit, merde</i>!'</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
ismael</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
ismael came to frankfurt 30 years ago, he is half turkish and half kurdish. he has two daughters with his first wife, who unfortunately passed away. he has another baby daughter now with his current wife. he spends all his spare time with his daughters and grandkids. 'they are schön,' he says, and shows me photos on his phone. 'sehr schön,' i respond. he tells me his mama passed away when she was 60 but his father is 104 and still kicking. i don't believe him and he shows me a photo, and yes, his father is literally kicking the air in one image dated last month. he kisses my hand goodbye and wishes me the best for this life.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
maryam</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
she reminded me of a teacher i had when i was 11. she is visiting one of her daughters in frankfurt, her other children are based in england, canada, and the usa. she is en route to visit her sister in sweden. her husband and her mother both passed away in the last couple of years, and she says it's been difficult to move on. she has never migrated like the rest of her family because her husband and her always loved life in tehran. he was a professor in mathematics. her eyes light up when she mentions his past students still visit her, and view her as a second mother. she tells me things that i have been thinking about with my own family in the last couple of days, and when we part i feel the daylight dim a little.</div>
<br /></div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-25358295506026935722018-06-29T15:22:00.000-04:002018-11-12T12:28:24.591-05:00unhealthy air quality for sensitive groups<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="538" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2018/06/beijing-2.jpg" width="800" />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
beijing</div>
<br />
when we were in beijing it rained. i found it a bit suss the raindrops were achingly heavy, kind of like getting hit by hundreds of baby water bombs as opposed to 'rain'. by the time we found cover (thank you taxi driver), our white t-shirts were covered in blotches of brown—it had rained dirt. the last time this happened i got pneumonia and was given ten days to live, so a brown t-shirt was aight.<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-81932837113672038192018-06-26T09:52:00.002-04:002018-07-19T15:30:40.823-04:00divide and conquer<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="538" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2018/06/hong-kong-1.jpg" width="800" />
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1188" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2018/06/hong-kong-2.jpg" width="800" /><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
pineapple* bun</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
*no pineapple zone<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-67049546882295120812018-06-11T09:40:00.000-04:002018-08-23T16:55:28.724-04:00robbed<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
this is something that happened almost six years ago. i was en route to shanghai after a few days by the <a href="https://cavaan.blogspot.com.au/2012/10/24.html" target="_blank">li river</a> in yangshuo. i left early in the morning, headed to the bus stop, and caught the next one available to guilin (from where i could take the train to shanghai).</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
upon arrival in guilin, everybody shuffled out of the bus. as i was the last one to alight, the bus driver looked at me and asked 'where are you off to?' i responded the train station, which i knew was a few hundred metres walk away. he leaned closer and warned 'hold on to your belongings. whatever you do, hold on to everything. thieves are everywhere.' i laughed and thanked him for the tip. 'no, this is no time to laugh. you have to hold onto everything, it's dangerous between here and the train station.' i nodded but felt blissfully ignorant and confident.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
my phone was in my pocket (deep by pocket depth standards, there was no way someone was going to be able to reach into it without me noticing), and my belongings were all locked in my backpack.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
when i was almost at the train station, i stopped by a small grocer for ice cream. as i was buying the ice cream, the man behind the counter asked me 'where are you going?' and i tell him i'm just going to the train station, which was now less than a 100 metres away. he looked at me, and said 'between here and the train station are plenty of thieves, makes sure you hold onto your belongings.' i looked down and could still feel the weight of my phone, so i didn't reach for it incase he was a thief.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
this story could have ended here and the scars of that day would have never existed, but as i closed in on the train station, i decided to stop by the post office near the entrance to send some postcards. it was exceptionally dark for a public institution that was not a jail. suddenly i felt a hit to my body, i can't describe the sensation, i looked down and <strike>saw blood</strike> my pocket (deep as it was compared to standard pocket depths!) was turned inside out.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
my phone was gone. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
sure, i noticed.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
but my phone was gone.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
d'oh!</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
those moments immediately after felt strange. my head started spinning and my stomach wanted out. i threw the postcards i had intended to send in the bin because the weight of five cards suddenly multiplied. i looked around to see the man who bumped into me walking out the door. i ran after him, out onto the street.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
'you stole my phone,' i said to him. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
he turned to look at me, there were some people who stopped to see his response and he laughed. 'i didn't,' he said with a smile, 'but there are a lot of thieves around, you have to be very careful, and hold onto everything!' he got on his motorbike, and before i could gather my next thought, he drove off.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
later when i finally got to file a police report they kept asking me if the thief was uyghur (he wasn't), berated me, blamed me, and said i deserved what happened because i was 'travelling instead studying'. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
ugh!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-38603875489658462572018-04-16T04:21:00.003-04:002018-11-12T12:36:19.084-05:00spill the lemon tea please<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="538" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/kowloon.jpg" width="800" /><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
every day i walk past so many stories i will never know</div>
<br /></div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-52761968632669596812018-01-21T00:11:00.001-05:002018-06-11T09:09:39.659-04:00stingray bay<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br />all the footsteps<br />on the cove,<br />were ours</blockquote>
<br /></div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-62289718566328490782017-03-28T01:39:00.001-04:002018-06-25T11:10:00.772-04:00a matter of love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="1184" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2017/04/lucia-1.jpg" width="800" />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">my sister</span><br />
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://cavaan.blogspot.com.au/2011/02/thirteen.html" target="_blank">1</a>, <a href="http://cavaan.blogspot.com.au/2011/02/home-warm-home-even-when-its-freezing.html" target="_blank">2</a>, <a href="http://cavaan.blogspot.com.au/2014/01/sweet-like-sugar-cane.html" target="_blank">3</a>, <a href="http://cavaan.blogspot.com.au/2014/07/thursday-sunday.html" target="_blank">4</a></div>
<br /></div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-57189441146825974932017-03-25T08:47:00.000-04:002017-04-07T23:30:07.803-04:00mind the gap<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br />
navigating youth<br />
her mind: a map<br />
without a legend</blockquote>
</div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-77677781204952705372017-03-05T06:28:00.000-05:002018-10-17T16:56:38.517-04:00co-pilot<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<img border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-268" height="530" src="https://cavaan.files.wordpress.com/2015/07/co-polot.jpg" width="800" /><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
:)<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5364344594059433456.post-69864196735222059352017-03-01T17:04:00.001-05:002018-10-17T16:48:46.676-04:00the weird west<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
for a couple of weeks, i stayed in a house with mosquitos and sand flies on a small stretch of road along the west coast. there, i made jam with blackberries picked from bushes covered in spider nests, and took swims in a river that always tried to swallow me whole. i felt close to earth but far from the world. there was no internet, no phone reception, and the total population was seven.<br />
<br />
the place was beautiful but eerie. i didn't make life long friends, and i felt excited to leave when the day came. it was one of those weird scenarios that i walked in on and haven't shaken off.<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
cavaanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13378768353414256365noreply@blogger.com