People who can’t stay with me.

The recent blog post “people who can’t travel with me” from Ciao Chicago had me dying of laughter and also shedding baby travel tears because it was so true. How often have I not been able to articulate my lack of willingness to travel with certain people or groups for one of those very reasons? I felt guilty or perhaps just plain naive about the shortcomings of some travel companions and I kept my mouth shut while they ruined my trip. Oh… well, no more guilt is the new black. This got me thinking about other travel experiences I’ve had that require a list of ground rules. So, let’s talk about houseguests.

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5. No shirt, no shoes, no service.  Well, not exactly, but you can’t just walk around my house bearing all sorts of skin that makes no sense for our actual relationship or your actual attributes. Case: We recently had a houseguest who proceeded to iron his clothing bare-chested in a common room every time he wanted to go out. So, this means man boob first thing in the morning and before heading out at night, multiple times over his stay, all over my house. I’m like, you’re too comfortable, dude. Oh and in a similar vein, know when to cover your feet, depending on how they look and smell. Again, let’s not find out that we’re really not friends during an overshare experience. Shoes (that aren’t tracking mud or dirt through the house) are acceptable and socks will do when shoes don’t. Again, I’m all for “make yourself comfortable” hospitality, but depending on how close we are (or aren’t) and some basics on aesthetic, one guest’s comfort is another host’s cringe.

4. Food etiquette. First things first, there’s no pork in my house. No joke, f’real though. I’ll throw that isht out. Don’t get me started on how much it grosses me out, but seriously, ahhh don’t do it. But, beyond pork, I think it only makes sense to organize the food situation upfront, esp. if guests don’t have a car. Case: We recently had houseguests who waxed poetic about going to the supermarket to get food early on in their stay, but never actually went. This is fine because I actually know how difficult it is to get to the supermarket and I planned accordingly for their food situation by buying lots of food, b/c they’re tourists – they don’t know that they don’t know anything. However, this led to some awkward moments when they showed up from a day trip starving, without transportation, were too scared to ask to eat something in the kitchen, but wanted to hitch hike to a restaurant at midnight that I had to politely inform them was actually closed. Mind you, I had all this food in the house that I clearly bought for them (I don’t eat chicken!) and they’re trying to be below the Mason Dixon-style polite, which is at cross purposes with the human need to eat. It was ridiculous. Listen, if I don’t want you to eat food in my house, trust me, you won’t be invited to my house. Would it be nice if you contributed to the food purchase or went to the market to get things you’d like to eat or told me your food plans beforehand? Yes, but being weird about eating and not eating leads to awkward silences three times a day, for the entire length of one’s stay.  I need guests that knock that right out at the beginning, eat out or in or cook or whatever, but every meal shouldn’t feel like a hostage negotiation.

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3. Shadow. I’ve been this guest, so I know how easy it is to become. I’ve had this guest, so I know how annoying it can become. This situation occurs when a host thinks you’ve come to visit their city, but a guest thinks they’ve come to visit the host – things get weird. In the interest of full disclosure: I like my personal space and I’m easily suffocated.  I vet my companion lists with scrutiny for each activity presented and if I don’t say ‘the more the merrier,’ it’s not something to be inferred. I’ve had guests who take the ‘I’ll just do whatever you normally do‘ approach and since I don’t normally have a human shadow as I walk around my house in a robe, this methodology quickly falls apart. There is way too much pressure to make my boring daily life touristy and/or entertaining. And again, there are times when the guest really isn’t invited, but there’s a song and dance about leaving them behind so they can go see the sites (which they don’t really want to see alone or they don’t know how to get to) and they look like a sick puppy as you drive away to personal-space-freedom-land. Sigh. Being invited into my home doesn’t inherently mean being invited into every aspect of my life. Just sayin…

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2. Germophobe scaredy cat. Don’t act like you’ve never seen a roach before. You have. Don’t act like you’ve never killed one before. You have. Don’t act all brand new in my house. I’ve never lived in any place that’s actually clean and has undeniably, safe, potable drinking water. So get over yourself.  While I’m always profusely embarrassed & grossed out when something undesirable creeps in, I can’t help but feel like a grown adult human being should be able to take this in stride. Case: Mozambique is generally clean hygiene wise, but the sewer systems are pretty basic and close to residential areas. Trash pick up isn’t regular. And for some reason, which I’ll blame on the location of our house near a hilly, wooded area, there are huge cockroaches that end up in our house despite having a maid 4 days a week and putting down bait. Mah dude, I’ma need you to just kill it and move on. Why? Because you came to visit me in Southern Africa… or North India… or DC… or NYC… and you know what those places all have in common? They’re on earth, a planet which humans share with roaches, spiders, mice, frogs, lizards, and other things that are small and slimy or gross.  If you want to visit some place that’s spick and span, maybe try some city I’ve never lived in. Or try a town that’s been sterilized just for your visit. Even Disney had a kid get eaten by an alligator… you can’t control ALL the elements. If a cockroach freaks you out, you probably shouldn’t leave your house – ever – and you definitely shouldn’t come to mine.

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1. My dog lives here. I have a dog. He’s crazy and loud, but he’s mine. I can’t un-own him for visitors’ sake. But, I think some people underestimate their dislike for pets and rather than just say that they’d rather stay in a hotel, they try to control my dog – in his own house. I used to pander to that, but I’m over it. He’s going to jump on you when you walk in the house. He will definitely bark at you. He may try to sit in your lap. Why? Well, because he’s a dog. Poorly trained and all, he still lives here and you don’t. So, we have to get real. If you’re not into pets, then you don’t have to interact with him, but I’m not going to guarantee that he won’t interact with you. Repeat: He’s an animal. Second repeat: He lives here. At this point, folks who don’t like dogs or my dog are totally respected by me to the fullest. I was once one of you. I get it. But, at the same time, you probably shouldn’t stay with me, for obvious reasons.

The end.

Eat Your Heart Out!

 

IMG_1323One of the highlights of traveling home is, and has always been, gorging on grub, as my travels took me to, through, and around restaurants I loved. So, here’s a brief culinary summary of my 2 week visit home. Hope you all enjoy – visually – my gastronomical exploits…

It all started on the South African Airways plane. My veggie food was pretty yummy, but these mini Tangueray bottles took the entire ride over the top. I have to say that gin & tonic on a plane pairs well with the entire ride.

Then in the great state of New Jersey, an amazing medley of home cooked meals, American processed treats, awesome restaurants and food gluttony occurred. I’m sure, for those of you who live in the U.S. full time, Chips Ahoy cookies with M&Ms in them is nothing to write home about. But, when you live in Africa… I think you get the point. In short, as per below, you can see that I partook in South African wine, Mexican Fish Tacos and beer (only right to honor what should be a world holiday – Cinco de Mayo) at 2 different establishments (the Above Restaurant in South Orange and Red Cadillac in Union), and the best pizza in the whole damn state! There were also (unphotographed) home cooked meals of fried fish, cornbread, collard greens and sweet potato pie made by my grandma, and spaghetti and salmon made my mom. The thought of them will keep me homesick for months.

 

Then, the travels went north(ish) to New York City – the city so bad they named it twice. I popped into the city for a dinner that consisted solely of Key Lime Pie from Bubba Gump Shrimp, but then I had a morning meet up with a professor and mentor that I love dearly. We ended up heading over to the City Kitchen in Midtown, where I had a pancake breakfast at Whitman’s (sadly with Kraft syrup instead of God’s gift to breakfast – Grade A Maple) and fought off the impulse to try every variety of donut produced by Dough. It was tough to resist hibiscus donuts, but my thighs thanked me. And, I had a home cooked Jewish breakfast of bagels with lox and egg frittata with family friends, as well as a boozy brunch at yet another Mexican restaurant, Agave (unphotographed).

Last but not least I headed south to our nation’s capital. With so much political stankness in the air, it was great to find something apolitical to enjoy in the DMV.

I had lunch with a friend at Founding Farmers near Farragut West, where we proceeded to spend $22 a glass on King Estate Pinot Noir from Oregon, which the Vivino app says costs about $24.80 per bottle.  Yea, total rip off. But the food was decent and the restaurant is well located… its greatest highlight.

There was an entire ice cream experiment at Cold Stone Creamery, which ended with my stomach and my tongue rejoicing in perfect harmony. And  I had yet another delicious order of fish tacos at District Taco in Dunn Loring – yummy. Oh, a regular trip fave, was Ginger Salmon at a Vietnamese restaurant in Pentagon City, Saigon Saigon. My stomach is growling just thinking about all these yummy reunions, as well as two trips to Red Lobster with friends (unphotographed) and frequent visits to Starbucks for coffee drinks with non-dairy milk – oh, so rare here on the continent.

All told, while I love the food, what I miss most about being home is the people. These delish meals were a backdrop to meet ups, family gatherings, mentoring and catch up sessions that were long overdue. In just 2 weeks, I ate fish tacos at three different places and not a single loved one judged me for it. That’s what foodie reunions are all about!