A few weeks ago, Arrow Q. and I chanced upon the BBBB (Bras Brasah Book Bazaar) where they were selling all sorts of books by weight. Anthologies, literature texts, cookbooks and travel guides for $2 each!
Now one of the best things about Life at Home is the accessibility to and affordability of English books. In Hong Kong, a visit to the bookstore tended to be a fairly brief affair - there was of course the ubiquitous Dymocks (the only English bookstore chain there, pronounced "Dee micks", with an Australian accent, mate), with Mao and Angels & Demons switching places weekly on the Bestsellers Shelf. English books were also ridiculously expensive there too (much like everything else in Hong Kong really).
I did, on all of one occasion, where there was nothing to do on a Sunday afternoon after church, venture into the multistorey local Chinese bookstore in Wanchai across Revenue Tower. It was there that I came to the clear realization that, even if one drafted Chinese contracts for a living, my store of food for the mind, inspiration for the soul and horde of female magazines, would ever be confined to the English canon. That is alright by me really, for even the MM recognized that only a tiny minority of the human genepool would ever be truly equally bilingual in two unrelated languages, but I did remember leaving the Wanchai bookstore with a slight sense of regret, wondering about that other world of ideas and thought which is technically accessible but has never been really so for me at the same time.
But I do digress. So after Arrow Q. shot off for her Japanese class nearby (she will be truly trilingual), I spent an exceedingly Happy Thursday Hour at the BBBB collecting paper by weight. I remembered that the last time I did something like this was in secondary school - once a year the Times publishing house would open up their warehouse (right by the Pandan reservoir near where I used to live) and sold books on the supercheap. You had to make sure you brought your own carrier bag, because they only gave string and no plastic bags for you to take your paper home (like the garang guni man with his used newspapers). I was a little concerned before I checked my stack of 18 books out at BBBB - I had only my work tote and no carrier bags with me - should I abandon my shopping? But happily, at the makeshift cashier counter, they were dispensing industrial strength plastic bags, and even had a Nets machine.
It was, to be expected, an eclectic mix of books. A Cambridge anthology of annotated Romantic Poetry and Prose. The Oxford Guide to the Mind. A Zen book on regulating energy. A Pocket Guide to Orchids. A Legal Dictionary.
The biggest gem I picked up was this.
Now one of the best things about Life at Home is the accessibility to and affordability of English books. In Hong Kong, a visit to the bookstore tended to be a fairly brief affair - there was of course the ubiquitous Dymocks (the only English bookstore chain there, pronounced "Dee micks", with an Australian accent, mate), with Mao and Angels & Demons switching places weekly on the Bestsellers Shelf. English books were also ridiculously expensive there too (much like everything else in Hong Kong really).
I did, on all of one occasion, where there was nothing to do on a Sunday afternoon after church, venture into the multistorey local Chinese bookstore in Wanchai across Revenue Tower. It was there that I came to the clear realization that, even if one drafted Chinese contracts for a living, my store of food for the mind, inspiration for the soul and horde of female magazines, would ever be confined to the English canon. That is alright by me really, for even the MM recognized that only a tiny minority of the human genepool would ever be truly equally bilingual in two unrelated languages, but I did remember leaving the Wanchai bookstore with a slight sense of regret, wondering about that other world of ideas and thought which is technically accessible but has never been really so for me at the same time.
But I do digress. So after Arrow Q. shot off for her Japanese class nearby (she will be truly trilingual), I spent an exceedingly Happy Thursday Hour at the BBBB collecting paper by weight. I remembered that the last time I did something like this was in secondary school - once a year the Times publishing house would open up their warehouse (right by the Pandan reservoir near where I used to live) and sold books on the supercheap. You had to make sure you brought your own carrier bag, because they only gave string and no plastic bags for you to take your paper home (like the garang guni man with his used newspapers). I was a little concerned before I checked my stack of 18 books out at BBBB - I had only my work tote and no carrier bags with me - should I abandon my shopping? But happily, at the makeshift cashier counter, they were dispensing industrial strength plastic bags, and even had a Nets machine.
It was, to be expected, an eclectic mix of books. A Cambridge anthology of annotated Romantic Poetry and Prose. The Oxford Guide to the Mind. A Zen book on regulating energy. A Pocket Guide to Orchids. A Legal Dictionary.
The biggest gem I picked up was this.
This is a collection of recipes by Clare Crespo for creating the most demented and delightful culinary creations you will ever have seen. What you see on the cover are two baked potato slices with string beans stuck on them. Edible Flip Flops!I went on the Internet today to see if I could find more of her creations and came across the website of the photographer Eric Staudenmaier. I am going to forward Hey Cupcakes! to Mr M on Monday.
Completely fun!
