The illuminating Chinese

In the immortal words of Monty Python, I like Chinese. In Singapore I spent a lot of time with Chinese people. When you first arrive, the initial impression is that they are rude, arrogant and all-round unpleasant. Once you've been there a little while, however, you realise why. It's because a large number of (Western) expats are rude, arrogant and all-round unpleasant. Not to mention overpaid and under talented. And the locals assume you're the same.

Make an effort, though, and stop acting like an expat, and you’re rewarded with the warmest, most hospitable, funny and enthusiastic friends you’ve ever made. With great names like Pui Leng, Eugene (really), Shii Hua, Muk, Lynnden and Kuan Eng.

I like Chinese food as well. A lot. I could quite happily eat Taiwanese fried or steamed dumplings dipped in dark Chinese vinegar every day. Some weeks I did.

And I love Chinese weddings. Five hundred people crammed into a hotel banquet hall, munching their way through twelve or more courses progressively laid out on permanently spinning Lazy Susans. Until the last course, when the venue empties out faster than if there had been a bomb scare, leaving behind bewildered expats wondering if they’d missed something. Chinese people don’t hang around after the last course has been served, you soon learn.

But I also like the fact that Chinese people are clever. Singapore is a predominantly Buddhist country, followed by Islam and Hindi. And yet, come Christmas, all the shopping malls along the two-odd kilometre stretch of Orchard Road are festooned with the most fabulous Christmas decorations you’ve ever seen. It just makes business sense.

In Sandton, the most expensive business real estate area in Africa, we have … a couple of lights strung around the trunks of six trees along the median of one of the roads.

Wow.

So in celebration of Christmas, I thought it appropriate that my festive decorations be led by a wizened, wise old Chinese candleholder. Apart from the fact it was given to me by a very special person from Cape Town, I think it just makes sense. And I like it.

Because who better to illuminate the world this Christmas than people with a 6 000 year history of illumination?

Saponins saved my life. Well, maybe.

There is light on the horizon. Rising like a glorious new dawn, the rays of possibilities warming all they touch, a new discovery has arrived. And it may spell the death knell of the dreaded broccoli.

Yes, my friends, saponins could well be the answer. Because, as our Mediterranean pals have known for millennia - well, hundreds of years, at least - red wine is the answer to most of our prayers. And the panacea to all our ills. Because red wine contains saponins.

According to a very serious and scientific-looking website, " ... saponins are being found in an increasing number of foods and their presence in wine adds to the mounting evidence that red wine really may make a difference in lowering your cholesterol." Let me repeat that in case you missed it. They make a difference in lowering your cholesterol.

Halleluja. So this may well turn out to be a festive season of joy after all. I'm going to be hard at work making a difference in lowering my cholesterol over the next few weeks by sampling the wonder cure in abundance. In fact I made an excellent start over the weekend with Goatville Girl and Boota Boy. And if you exclude the first couple of hours of the day after, it seems to be working.

Hence my imminent pilgrimage to the centre of saponin production in South Africa, the Cape winelands. Boy, is my cholestrol in trouble.

And not a brocolli in sight.

Coincidence? I think not.

A friend of mine, the Ver, said that Broccoli is the broom that sweeps the body clean. I'm sure she's right. And I'm sure all the scientific evidence that Broccoli is a fantastic antioxidant and has anti-cancer properties is right, too. But, you know, the taste! And the smell!

Turns out that, thanks to Broccoli, I have something in common with George Bush (Snr). The horror. He forbad Broccoli to be cooked in the White House while he was the occupant. And another thing: is it just coincidence that Broccoli includes the majority of the word "ecoli"?

I think not.

But I am trying. Apparently I have higher than normal cholestrol, so Broccoli is a good thing for me. I tried to convince the doctor that it must be genetic, and nothing to do with umpteen years of of smoking, drinking and eating Ulster fry ups for brekky, but I suppose seven years of studying medicine helps you see through such blatant lies.

So on Saturday, at a birthday party at vegetarian friends of mine, I tried some Broccoli. Raw. And you know, it wasn't too bad.

Next time I may even try it without the lashings of mayonnaise.

(Picture courtesy www.toothpastefordinner.com/archives-win02.php)

Sowing the seed

This is my Blog. Inspired by my friend Goatville Girl. Who is very clever, and very funny. And also very fast at writing stuff. But as this is the beginning I won't be fast. I will be measured. (Which is another way of saying slow and indecisive.) And so with this, my first post, I will retire to cogitate upon my umbilicus. Which is mildly clever but not very funny.

Although quite fast.