I often write about markets, perhaps because as a a child, my imagination was fired up by stories about exotic markets with fluttering fabrics and adventures down narrow alleyways. The result is that, in every city I visit, I visit the market. The great market of Cairo, Khan el-Khalili, is extremely touristy, but maybe I should have appreciated getting away from the traffic.
I think I prefer the one in Istanbul. When I lived in Colombia, one of my favorite places in Bogota was the Paloquemao market.
In Peru, I went regularly on field trips to explore the markets. One thing I recall is that they always had a bathroom. I went to a couple of “dicey” ones including the fabric market near Sodom, Gamarra. When I visited the fish market, it seemed like it would be something from a Tarantino film but the reality was more late night shopping channel.
Another surreal place was the market in Caracas. There was an abundance of food but no one could afford it.
When I moved to Bangladesh, I had no idea what the markets would be like.
Another market that I return to all the time is Torvehallerne in Copenhagen.
It has been ten years since I left Bangladesh, but luckily I can once again taste the taste of home cooked authentic Bangladeshi food. Mahmuda is an excellent cook and she sells food from her home. You can also go to her place to experience a home cooked meal and learn about Bangladeshi culture. Mahmuda has a huge personality and speaks English with a feisty animated volume.
Bangladeshi food is spiced but not spicy as in hot on the Scoville scale. There is a lot of clove, cardamom, cinnamon, and mustard seed. There is regional food in Bangladesh and a whole type of cuisine, bhorta, that is sort of like “small plates, mezze, tapas, dim sum…” as in you get many small dishes and pay for what you eat. I hope that Mahmuda will make some of these in the future.
Shrimp in a coconut curry.
In Bangladesh, one eats with one’s right hand. I am not so good at that so I eat with a knife and fork. But you can try eating with your right hand if you want to. A meal at Mahmuda’s includes a starter, main, and dessert even though Bangladeshi food does not follow this concept.
The rice being cooked.
The curries in Bangladesh are not as soupy as they are in Britain or the US. Many of the Indian restaurants in the UK and the US are actually run by Bangladeshis. The Brits list curry —chicken tikka masala as their national dish. The first Indian cooks in the UK were from Sylhet in Bangladesh, in what was India. British curry with the heavy use of tomato puree and cream is an invention, probably in Glasgow, that helped adapt to the British love of gravy.
Dal, lentils.
I am not sure what the prices are but with a group, a meal was around $50 per person. One can also order food for pickup.
Oshwya Ghor translates to “home kitchen” in the local dialect of Barishal.
There was also dessert. The Bangladeshis love sweets but these were not too sweet. One was a rice pudding and the other a sort of blondie.
I went to Egypt to see the treasured outpost of the Roman Empire. But, I also went because I wanted to see the traffic. Is that weird? Yes, and thank you. I had heard people say that the traffic in Cairo is the worst in the world. I have been in LA, Dhaka, Lima, Bogota, New Delhi, and NY traffic. Of all those places, I still vote that Dhaka has the worst traffic. Could Cairo take the crown?
Blocks of ice for sale blocking the Cairo traffic.
Yes, it can. The reason is that the traffic in Cairo is lethal. Cairo is much bigger than Dhaka and there are many roads where one can gain a great amount of speed, thus making traffic accidents more likely to be lethal.
A pick up point in front of the mosque. It was a calm day.
So, I would have to agree that Cairo has the worst traffic, but Dhaka has possibly the most interesting? In Dhaka one saw all kinds of things in traffic, from half a million rickshaws to elephants.
With those words, Augustus (as Octavian was known from 27 BCE) declared the Roman Empire’s conquest of Egypt. As I was considering the end of my Roman adventure, I felt like I needed to go to Egypt so see that important part of the Roman world. Although Rome is modern, it seems to live on as the Rome of 2,000 years ago. Back then, Alexandria was the Roman capital of Egypt. I hear that modern day Alexandria is a very mediterranean city. I did not go there. I went to Cairo.
Cairo reminded me a lot of Dhaka. But a scarier, more aggressive Dhaka. In Cairo, I could see how as a single woman, one would feel danger. I didn’t feel scared but I was also never alone. When my friend and I were in the souk, she wouldn’t let us go into the long narrow stalls because it was too dangerous. She made the vendors bring things out to the street for us to look at. Maybe I was more oblivious back then, but in Dhaka, I never felt that the men were too aggressive. They tended to want to take photos and stare but I was not too worried about getting mugged or molested. Maybe it’s my memory changing the reality or maybe I was more naive. I was also almost never alone in Dhaka.
The oldest coffee shop in Cairo, on the right, in the Khan el-Khalili souk.
The first day, my friend took me to the souk, the Khan el-Khalili market, as that was my wish. It was hot so that trip was fast. I got my postcards and we left. We ate lunch at a place in the souk. It is a very touristy place and my friend had to insist on some of the local dishes rather than the grilled meat platters being pushed on all the other tourists. I had the falafel which in Egypt is made with fava/broad bean rather than chickpea/garbanzo, and I had the baba ganoush, and the other dips. I liked the stretchy flat bread. There was always too much food and I could see that the Egyptians are extremely hospitable. The next day, we went to a cosmopolitan bakery in the Maadi and that was also nice. That neighborhood had the same dusty streets and dusty buildings of Dhaka.
The next day, the sun was out and the sky was a pale blue color. Sort of. Another Egyptian friend, Mohamed, a former colleague who had worked with me in Dhaka, and a colleague from that time picked me up with a driver for a day out. When my friend picked me up, he had to come in and have a bit of fruit and coffee. Hospitality is king. The day turned out to be like one of those days in Dhaka which went from 9 am to 11 pm. The driver was filled with facts and his English was good. I told him that he should be a guide. He said that he was! My friends had hired him for the day. We went to the Coptic Cairo (Old Cairo). On this street, there is a famous ruin from Roman occupation times, 2,000 years ago (30 BCE when Augustus conquered Egypt). The fort was built in Babylon and years later, the Hanging Church is built on top of the Roman fortress.
From the ring road.
Finally, I had to see the pyramids. They recommended the ring road. The pyramids looked quite nice from the distance and from an air conditioned car. I remarked so. At one point, the guide slowed down so that I could get the ultimate photo of a lush green field, a camel and donkey under two palm trees, and in the distance, the only remaining wonder of the ancient world, the pyramids. For breakfast, around noon, we went to a place that my Egyptian friend chose. It was a place where they make “Egyptian pizza” or “fatayer” which is thin layers of dough with filling. One was with honey and others were savory. We had one with mozzarella, bell peppers, and thin slices of dried meat. Then we had another with smoked sausage. All beef. This dish is my favorite Egyptian food so far. The dough is fried in clarified butter and the pastry takes on the sheen of golden stain glass windows. Yummy.
Fatayer, a “pizza” of a sort.
Later in the day, Mohamed asked if we were ready for dinner. My other friend recommended “Hagooga” a local place. Very local. So new and local that even Mohamed had never been. We went around 6 pm and it was not to busy but most of the 40 tables inside were filled with families and others. Only Egyptians. We sat indoors. This restaurant was so local that even the locals ignored us, the only foreigners.
“Whisky” water made from the salad dressing.
I got to try the famous “whisky” which is the salad dressing water from making the salad. We got the grilled meats, and other dips or “mezze” – not sure what it’s called in Egypt. I still preferred the breakfast pizza. At one point, Mohamed told me not to fill up on bread because we still had dessert. When were stepped outside, the courtyard was light with string lights and every table was filled with diners. There were twenty people waiting for tables. Another entertaining thing about Hagooga’s is that everything is branded with her smiling face and name. Even the brass lamps had her name stamped out.
Hagooga knows how to brand!
Most of the local women I saw in Cairo had their hair covered. I asked if this was law and although it is not, they cover their hair. It is windy, sunny, and dusty in Cairo, so I could see why it would make sense to keep one’s head covered. My friend also told me that most of them go and have their hair washed once per week, so maybe that is another reason.
El Rehab City mall.
For dessert, we went into Rehab City, a gated city. It was like entering Miami. We went to an outdoor mall/market and Mohamed got us platters of sweets. I recognized baklava but I don’t know the names of the others. I teased Mohamed that this, the eating of dessert, was the most serious I had seen him all day. The weather was quite pleasant at this point and I can see why the Egyptians are night people. I also saw a chicken shawarma that was at least 200 pounds. After the sweets, Mohamed said that it was time for gelato. We protested but then he mentioned that they have mastic/mistica. I had to try it. I first tried mistica 20 years ago in Greece. In Greece, the mistica, a white honey like textured resin from a mediterranean bush, is served on a teaspoon in a glass of water. One licks a bit of the mistica off and sips a bit of water, each sweetening the other. This gelato was not like that.
One of the gates of old Cairo.
Finally, the fun day out was over. Just like my tour of the ancient Roman empire, and Rome.
Photos don’t convey the cool breeze and the sense of being up high.
Eating at La Tagliata Fattoria (the slice factory) in Positano will make you feel like you are eating at the home of the Gods’ farmstead. Positano is a cute but touristy town on the Amalfi Coast. There is a walk on the coast called the Walk of the Gods. One can see why. (Another place that looks like a film location is the town of Ravello, famous as a wedding location. This is where they filmed Wonder Woman’s home planet, and one can see why when gazing down on the sapphire waters sparkling with the sun’s rays like gold dust).
A famous 500 (cinquecento).
One day, I was eating lunch with someone from Naples. When I mentioned that I was going to Positano, she mentioned that I should eat at La Tagliata (La-Tie-yah-tah) in Positano. She said to tell the family that she had sent me.
What a view for lunch.
When we made the reservation through our hotel, we didn’t name drop. Normally the restaurant sends a car service because the road is switchbacks and treacherous, but that is only at night. We took a taxi. Everyone in Positano seems to know where this restaurant is located. The road was narrow, steep, and not for those with a fear of heights. We drove steadily (well, curvily) up and up and up. Finally, we arrived at La Tagliata Fattoria. The structure in front of us was wooden and it appeared to be mainly stairs. In front of the restaurant are some antique cars. Once we went down the first flight of stairs, in awe of the view that we could see, we arrived at a small square. There were more stairs but also an elevator! One of the staff was there and he told me to take the elevator. So I did. The restaurant is located down two levels and one pops out in the kitchen.
Their farm is a hanging garden like the famous hanging gardens.
The restaurant is an open air wooden deck and wowza, is the view amazing. We were gobsmacked. How could anywhere be so utterly beautiful?
We were there early so they were setting up for a larger group.
It turns out that this place is run by three generations of the family who grow, raise, slaughter, and produce all the food that they serve you. The grandfather who started this place was grilling steak on open flames and the grandmother was in the kitchen prepping everything else. We were warmly greeted by everyone. It was like eating with cousins. When we sat down, I told the waiter that my colleague had sent me. The whole family erupted with joyous, “oh, they are friends of…” We didn’t receive different treatment because of this connection. We were still treated like family.
These were just starters and we were already feeling a bit overwhelmed with food.
There is no menu as they family cook whatever they are making that day but that is about 20 different dishes. We had wine that they make and the appetizer dishes involved eight or nine dishes of vegetables, rice salad, cheeses, and cured meats. Then we had pasta dishes, served family style. When we saw the size of the carnivores serving, the vegetarian thought she was going to get away with a smaller portion… not so! After the pasta course, was the steak, fries, and salad course. Then desserts. Then fruit. Then limoncello. Then espresso. The food can’t get more farm to table than this.
Beans.Pastas.Broccoli and chicory leaves.Deli meats. All made by them.Salad for the steak. Steak. Best I’ve had in Italy so far.
We were wondering how expensive this would be after a 150 euro tourist trap the day before, but for three, it was 100 euro total. I asked if I could buy some of the house wine. The middle generation waiter came out with two bottles. He presented one, holding it against his chest, and said, “from my father, my uncle, my mother, this is for you.” Then he took the other bottle and held it the same way and said, “from my son, from me, from our hearts, this is for you.” It was sweet.
They make red and white wine. Like lots of house wines, it’s good for a house wine.
It turns out that La Tagliata is famous. Alongside family photos of the first generation plotting out fields hanging on the sides of the cliffs, there are photos of former presidents and other famous visitors.
Wall of family photos in front of the kitchen.
While we were there, the grandfather talked to us once in a while but I didn’t understand a word he said. It didn’t seem to matter. The grandson, a handsome youth, speaks English and guided us through most of the meal.
When you need a break from the food, you can wander through the family’s hanging garden of a farm. Not for the mobility challenged. But good if you want to meet the farm animals.
When I think of the wonderful experiences that I’ve had in Amalfi and Italy, this place still stands out as the THE REASON to go to Positano. Sorry to the rest of the town, but this is it! Oh, and a boat ride with Alessandro is nice (more about that another time). La Tagliata is a little slice of perfection.
The path to the bathrooms which have light sensors and other modcons.
The family also rents out two rooms but I don’t know how rustic those would be. It looks like I’ll have to go back when it’s not so hot. I’m sure I’ll be greeted like family.
The focaccia of Puglia is famous and there is so much olive oil in it that it seems like a fried pizza even though it’s not deep fried. Also, it’s a bread, not a pizza.
A panzerotti looks like a calzone but it’s not one. The reason is that a panzerotti is fried, not baked. Panzerotti are specialities of the central and southern parts of Italy, especially Puglia/Apulia.
Panzarotti are also called calzoni fritti, fritte, and frittelle.
They are much like pizza and pizza is popular in Italy. While American pepperoni pizza is rare to find (not impossible, you just have to call it “con salame picante” to get something resembling it), I was delighted to find that spicy salami was one of the flavors on offer. If you ask for a “pepperoni” pizza, they will think you want a bell pepper pizza.
As I mentioned in a previous blog posting, we are all content creators now. I started the M’s Adventures blog/website when I moved to Bangladesh in 2011 (you can read one of my early blog postings here), and since then, I’ve created a book for each country I’ve lived in. As I will soon depart Peru, I was looking through photos to put together my book. The previous books have been published on Lulu.
But, this time, as I’m learning how to make movies on iMovie, I thought I’d make a “videobook” or moving picture book, a love letter to Peru. I may also make a paper book, but I’ll see how I feel when I’ve edited 8,000 photos and taught myself more iMovie. For now, here’s a film trailer so you can see what how it’s going. Don’t worry, the content of the body of the show will be less dramatic (film production really teaches one how much music changes the mood of a piece).
Here is the video trailer for “M’s Adventures in Peru: A Love Letter”
Or if you prefer to watch it on my YouTube channel, here is the link.
Having now lived in Lima past the honeymoon phase, I thought I’d write about some of the “realities” of life here as a foreigner (as I did about Dhaka and Bogota. An aside: I continue my search for the perfect “chaleco”.). Most of the daily annoyances that I go through are due to my own personal peeves, but, as the song says, I yam what I jam.
Indirect communication: that is the modus operandi here. As a direct person, I sometimes get tired of the indirect route. I like to ask upfront and not have to guess what is being asked. To the locals, being up front is rude. The twain shall never meet.
Formality: The Limenos are formal people. They like things to be formal. It ties in with being “respectful” which I think might be more important to them than being “nice.” They like to dress formally. They like formal. Have I made it clear? If you can add more gold and more formality, the better.
Class: Yes, they have classes here. Yes, there’s racism. This is not unique to Lima. I still find it annoying to watch people treating others differently simply based on where they live, or their accent, or what job they have. (Let me get off my soapbox… aaaaagh…)
Time: There is the standard comment that people are “late” for everything. If the invitation says 8 p.m., then people will show up at 9:30. But, time, in another sense that I find culturally different, is that Peruvians are night owls. Therefore many things are not open until 10 a.m. and some businesses aren’t even open for lunch on Sundays until 2 p.m.! Also, many restaurants close for a few hours in the middle of the day. Sometimes I like to eat dinner at 5:30 p.m., and there are very few dinner restaurants open at that time.
Paying upfront/business deadlines: I recently had a reminder of this cultural lesson. I like to pay for things upfront so when I had something custom made at a tailor shop, I paid upfront. This was wrong because it meant that the shop no longer had any incentive to get the job done or get it done in a timely manner. To top if off, when I got the item, it was not done properly.
Making a scene: Peruvians, due to their preference for indirect communication, do not like it when people make a scene. I told the tailor (see above) that I thought he had terrible service, that I did not want to hear his excuses, and that I would not recommend him to others. This was a scene. But, the tricky part here is… that they were embarrassed for me that I lost my cool. Not embarrassed for themselves for their sucky service. So it’s a no-win situation. One has to simply use the “withhold payment” method (see above) to ensure that you get what you paid for (or will pay for.).
Calling: Peruvians love to use the telephone. They call to double check that the email went through, they call to make sure that what one ordered online is actually what one wants, they call to tell one that things are not going to be ready on time, they call to tell one that things are ready on time, they call, call, call, call… and call. Eventually, you will too.
The weather: In winter, there is no sun. I’m not sure one gets used to it. One gets through it. This may be one of the things that is unique about Lima (maybe also San Francisco, Seattle…)
The air pollution and food poisoning: The air is bad. It’s clammy and almost everyone gets colds related to the clammy air or suffers from other lung related issues. It’s worse closer to the coast. Food poisoning or “intestinal” issues are sort of surprising considering the reputation of the Lima as a foodie city. But, it happens, and it’s not special to Lima. And it happens to the locals too.
Security: Yes, it’s a big city of nine million. (The photo is actually from a place south of Lima, but I like the security measure for one’s purse. Or is it for the chair?) What I miss most is being able to wear a backpack in peace. If you wear a backpack on your back, and you walk in a crowd, you will most likely find that the outermost pockets have been picked. That’s just the way it is. It might not happen. But it might. Also, when paying by credit card, don’t let the card leave your sight. Most restaurants will bring the machine to you, but once in a while, you will need to go to the machine (usually at the bar or cashier).
Traffic: Every city seems to want to win the “worst traffic” award. Lima too. Yes, the traffic is bad. It is what it is. I still think that the traffic in Dhaka wins for badness. It is rare in Lima that you will sit in one place for 90 minutes, swarmed by 500,000 bicycle rickshaws, all while being eaten by mosquitoes. In Lima, as the locals say, “se mueve” or “it moves” — which is true. The traffic is bad in Lima, but it does actually move, even if it’s only at five miles per hour. Glad that I could end this on a positive note.
Another time, I’ll write about the best things about living in Lima.
Before I took the coffee class, I had already taken a tea tasting class in Barranco at Zaniti (Av. Almte. Miguel Grau 612).
The tea tasting costs 25 soles. The tasting is only Mlesna brand tea, one of the leading brands of tea in the world. This is the only Sri Lankan tea shop in Peru. The teacher was clearly bewitched by her time in Sri Lanka and that shows in her presentation. I have been to tea plantations in Sri Lanka and Bangladesh (although, I never got around to writing about that part because I was too interested in other aspects of Sylhet) so I sort of understood her fascination.
The store is filled with artwork, cups, plates, bags, and many other things to buy. It is a bit like an artists collective as the artists also own and work in the store.
I’d say to go on a South Asia kick and eat at Dhaasu before or after…
Tempt Montezuma? Or the belly of Delhi? When I tried 100 restaurants in Dhaka, Bangladesh, people would ask me how I avoided getting “Delhi belly” or “Montezuma’s revenge” — I have some basic policies. First, I follow my gut (ha! Had to be said!). If it smells like death on a plate, then I don’t eat it (gym socks, sure. Death, no.). I drank lots of water. And to that end… Frank, it it wants OUT… I let it out…
Back to the food cart here in my barrio… I am not willing to try every street food cart in the world, but, when I see a crowd lined up waiting, I have to go over and see what they are eating. As you can see, this vendor doesn’t even need to move the cart out to the street. It just stays in her driveway.
The other evening, I saw a crowd, again. So I went over to take photos. As you can see, they sell hotdogs, wings, breast, and mussels? Now, I just need to find someone who’s willing to try it…
It’s M’s Adventures (madventures to many) fifth anniversary. This map shows just one random day of visitors to my blog…
As seen on the map, the readership of my blog seems very dependent on subject. That subject is Bangladesh. Despite the fact that Bangladesh has a small landmass, it has a large population, and in the social media universe, an interesting statistic. If one looked solely at who is reading M’s Adventures and what topics they like, then it would seem that Bangladesh was the center of the world. But, I’m sure that Google could tell you that that Bangladesh is not the most searched term in their engine. I think that the spike in numbers on M’s Adventures is because there simply aren’t that many blogs written in English about Bangladesh.
As I watch my readership numbers dip, I wonder if I should stop writing this blog. Or when it’s just me and my friend’s cat reading the blog.
But, I’m still amazed each day to see how many hundreds have read my little blog. So for now, I keep blogging! After all, if I didn’t blog about it, did it happen?
Although I lived in Bangladesh for two years, both of those years, the monsoons were not so bad (okay, one night it was awful, walking in the dark potholed street with flooded open sewers) but as Dhaka is located up the river, I didn’t get to experience the risks of coastal living. When I lived in Dhaka, the power went out on a frequent basis, but not for weather related reasons. In the U.S., I’ve experienced more power outages and flooding caused by weather and it looks like I will, again. Welcome to Florida in hurricane season.
I paid attention to the experts. I moved inland. Two days ahead. Then I bought food for ten days (I’m not quite sure why I thought chips and dip were essential foods, but maybe it counts as an activity as well?). Then I turned on the local news to watch the show.
This morning, I went out to check on the shopping frenzy at the local grocery store. It wasn’t a frenzy. Everyone was calm and shopping. Like any day at 11 a.m. (a note about price gouging: call the watchdog phone number if you see price gouging. It’s illegal to profiteer off of a situation like a hurricane. Sheesh.), just with hurricane shutters going up.
Now, I hope we don’t lose electricity. I have blogging to do!
Having now lived in Lima past the honeymoon phase, I thought I’d write about some of the “realities” of life here as a foreigner (as I did about 
Before I took the 
Back to the food cart here in my barrio… I am not willing to try every street food cart in the world, but, when I see a crowd lined up waiting, I have to go over and see what they are eating. As you can see, this vendor doesn’t even need to move the cart out to the street. It just stays in her driveway.
The other evening, I saw a crowd, again. So I went over to take photos. As you can see, they sell hotdogs, wings, breast, and mussels? Now, I just need to find someone who’s willing to try it…
As seen on the map, the readership of my blog seems very dependent on subject. That subject is Bangladesh. Despite the fact that Bangladesh has a small landmass, it has a large population, and in the social media universe, an interesting statistic. If one looked solely at who is reading M’s Adventures and what topics they like, then it would seem that Bangladesh was the center of the world. But, I’m sure that Google could tell you that that Bangladesh is not the most searched term in their engine. I think that the spike in numbers on M’s Adventures is because there simply aren’t that many blogs written in English about Bangladesh.
Although I lived in Bangladesh for two years, both of those years, the 
Now, I hope we don’t lose electricity. I have blogging to do!