This week's entry is a gallery that consists of examples of our quarantine menu. We have also included pictures from the process in some cases. The order is chronological from latest to earliest. This rather impromptu entry is not the result of a lazy week!!! Quite the opposite actually! In the next couple of weeks we will (most probably) have one of our works published in a feminist blog! When our work: ''Feminist Reflections; The concept of ‘The Genius’ and Mainstream Misogyny; A literary reflective exercise' is ready we will share it with you ! ! This is us bragging for our culinary achievements but it is also us telling our story through food. Through the tastes that bring us home, the recipes that excite us and keep us busy, the odours that bring back memories. Each dish tells a different story; its own story of either success or failure, our desire to create, our desire to remember, our multicultural influences; where we come from and where we live. We are creating a new type of gourmet or traditional depending on how you see it.
-p1and2
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I want to say: ‘I miss you.’ You should always be honest about your feelings, I know that but, I guess you don’t have to say everything all the time. Like, you know, I said what I had to say. Just wait until tomorrow. Don't say anything yet because you will regret it. Don't say anything now because you are simply experiencing a moment of weakness. You are right. My fatal flaw is impatience. I need to know and I need to know right now. I don’t want to be pressuring. I don’t want to be annoying. A moment of weakness, I guess. I guess, I have to wait. ‘I guess waiting is part of it.’ But what if he moves on by then? What? We are on lockdown. Maybe something happened. I doubt it. I was in denial. I lashed out. It was a moment of weakness. *** Maybe I should relax. For like a day, or a week. Forever? I don’t know. I ordered bath bombs from Amazon. Five bath bombs with a rose soap in the middle. I chose the one that was scented like rose petals. That was more relaxing than I ever thought it could be. I’m doing it again. (A moment). This time I am also drinking rum. Bacardi with pineapple juice. Old habits die hard. Or maybe they don’t die at all. I don’t mind that. My weakness. Actually, that is all I want to do, all day. Maybe for some weeks, or maybe a month? I don’t know. Forever. Or, maybe for a moment. It’s just a moment of weakness after all. *** I was doing well you know. Studying and stuff. Until this moment. The moment that I couldn't keep it up anymore. A few months, maybe a year. I don't know. “If you are unable to work, either decide to sit down and do it or, accept that you are not doing it. Everything else is insanity.” I dreamt about you. I dreamt that you were cutting my hair. [when you dream that someone is cutting your hair, it might mean that you are putting a lot of trust in that person to guide you.] ‘You dreamt that because I’ve been giving you advice.’ I should. Maybe not now but, I will. In the end. I know I will. I need a moment. My supervisor really believed in me and helped me out so, I will do it. A moment and I'll show my appreciation by submitting something decent. No, not decent. Something great. But just a moment. I will stay here all summer if I have to. I will do it and it will be great and I’ll say; ‘Hey, look. I did it anyway.’ And I will just say: ‘Hey look, it was just a moment of weakness.’ -p2 NormalityConfinement is now normality. The days are passing by effortlessly. Time keeps moving on; Unbothered by our earthly, mortal affairs.
Confinement is now normality. Less cruel normality; There are no homeless people in the streets. Apparently there had always been a bed for everyone. What do we want back? “freedom” Voices keep finding their way through the doors and screens and windows. Screaming louder than I can take “please!” Distorted voices, inhuman “please” An eerie, steady chant “We need to disregard the needs of others Please let us disregard the needs of others We need death, decay, waste Please let us out to destroy” -p1
I am not exactly sure as to how to use it yet, I can’t feel this word. I am not sure which emotions could bring one to faint. Is it strictly emotions? Or could it be feelings as well? The google definition wasn’t very clear on the details. Happiness? Surprise? Disgust? Could you imagine being so disgusted that you faint…? Funny. How about jealousy? Nostalgia? An episode of jealousy could have left me unconscious. I can imagine that unfortunately. How about longing? I’d separate longing into two categories. There’s the type of longing where there’s no memory of having acquired the objects of desire. For example ‘I long to be the richest person on earth’. Since I don’t have a memory of being the richest person on earth, I wouldn’t know how that feels like and therefore I would have to imagine the feeling which I am longing for. On the other hand, there’s the type of longing which flourishes in quarantine: of re-acquiring, re-attaining. This latter type is somewhat comparable to nostalgia (except if one can feel nostalgic for something they have never had). At least for me, longing is some kind of nostalgia plus motivation. A wild drive to act, to do something about it, to move the memory from the sphere of remembering; longing occurs when remembrance is not enough. It is just as bittersweet as nostalgia but every drop of sweetness transforms to anxiety and torture instead of melancholy. For example, I usually think of you all day and night long. When I talk I want you to hear, when I am being stupid I want you to laugh at me, when I am trying to sleep, I want you to hug me. It always starts off with what I brand as nostalgia. I start recollecting, remembering. This brings me to a state of tranquillity, but I am greedy. Remembering you and me together won’t be enough. I will go on and envision a plane landing right on the shore (that word always gets to me, I hear the splash of waves. Shhooooreeee). Not only will I envision it but I will sink in the daydream until I believe it; just for a bit I will let the warm breeze throw salty drops of water on my face and I will even hide into your arms to avoid them. At this point I'll feel the first tear on my cheek (which ironically, is a salty drop of water) and I will remember that not so long ago I could do something about it. I was planning to work all spring, then get a fucking ticket and spend the summer there. Sometimes I imagine seeing you at the airport; after a whole year. In this case I can easily imagine myself fainting. But could I become as emotionally overwhelmed as to faint by the mere imagining of these happenings? At which point? When I imagine the pleasant bits of it? as if swooning because of affection? or when I start feeling sad? Swooning as a result of grief? Or when I come back to reality; because of anger and helplessness and anxiety? See? I still don’t know how to use this word; I have no idea. I just wanted you to know that I liked a new word today. -p1. A Stroll.The other day we went to Coventry city centre for a walk. It was completely empty and everything was shut down (as expected). Coventry is a famously ugly English city but, this stroll reminded me of all the memories I made here in the past 4 years and how much I grew to love this place. These are some pictures of pre-quarantine Coventry I took as part of an exercise for one of my uni modules. -p2.
“A jog a day keeps depression away.” X replied to your story. "Good on you. I'll just be a cow by the end of this quarantine." *** - Just be active in general. Be active. Just do yoga. - I do do yoga, I also jog but I eat so much. I will be a cow by the end of this quarantine. - Food is energy and it leaves and cows are very nice so that’s not a bad thing. - Yes they are but they are also fat. - Only compared to people. But I’ve never heard of such a thing as ‘cow obesity.’ I think that cows are more fit than ever. *** Main Calorie Intake:
Supplementaries (to brighten up the dish):
Extras for a sad and gloomy day or when we’re bored:
-p2. The first thing I noticed when I set foot in this flat was that the girls keep a scale in the bathroom! Does it work? Eyes haven’t shined so bright for days. Oh it worked every morning! I kept confirming that the scale was functional until I noticed I had put on 300 grams. I have not the slightest idea if it works since. I am very much afraid of its mere existence and somewhat repulsed by its looks. I use the long, empty afternoons of unemployment and confinement to stare at it from the living room. It stares back at me...so unapologetic, so cold and brutally honest, so aware that the 300 grams destroyed our relationship. I am so sorry scale but unfortunately you have put me in a position where I ought to hate you. I might visit you again when I manage not to eat a full jar of mayonnaise in just two days :) .
No, not again. It has been a while since I stopped thinking like this, since I stopped caring about consuming an extra calorie; years actually. Now, this again. A plate that contains a slice of bread and cheese. Strictly speaking, this could be a synaesthetic experience where in seeing foods one thinks of them in terms of numbers. Is this breakfast or is it 100+85 + ..is this butter? 50. No, not again. - Kori, what else do you want me to add in the shopping list? (mmmmmmm …. Coffee, tomatoes, celery anddd...chocolatebiscuitscrispsandpeanutbutter…) - No, nothing specific in mind! Just let’s not eat a lot of carbs today. Sat down on the sofa trying to choose which one of the five books I managed to fit in my bag I want to read next. Sat down having all sorts of weird thoughts. How much space do I take up? Is this thought also back? Interesting. I mean how much space does my body take up? It is an exercise; If I think it is extending much further from ‘me’ then it means I need to lose weight. Aaah leave it. It only makes sense in my head. Does it? I don’t know. I am sure I am adapting though! I have found more things to do at home.. I am adapting! I can’t sleep very well, I am exercising. I can’t stop exercising. Ignore the problem. Knee to tricep. Biscuits, celery, 138. Acknowledge the problem. Another five netflix shows in five days. Five days wasted. Let’s sing tonight, let’s have fun. French fries, exercise, 150, netflix shows, 300 grams. Pause. “ I was amazed to find people talking seriously to one another” Ha ha ha ha. I think I am adapting. -p1. The dawn found us reading through an old anthology of traditional greek poems. Theo went through the contents of the anthology and asked me what kind of poem I would like her to read for me.
- Death poems, love poems, immigration poems... - Are there Cypriot poems? - Yes there are. - Do you mean written in the dialect? - Yes, do you want me to read one? - Yes please, I want to... “ Ο Χάρος μαύρα φόρησεν, μαύρα καβαλλιτσεύκει...” I was half asleep and half following the plot of a Cypriot poem about a fight between Death and a brave lad. I was gradually sinking deeper and deeper in the sofa’s cushions on my way to one of the most absurd dreams I would ever dream. All night I was going to be fighting in the hallway towards the underworld as Death herself. Right before landing on this strange alternative reality my sister’s voice faded to the background and I started contemplating somewhere between those two worlds. Contemplating is not the right word. I started worrying, rather. Worrying that translating my grandma’s story for the purpose of uploading it and sharing it had been a despicable and hideous act. Why did I have to do this? Why did I have to translate it? I had completely destroyed it, completely altered it. I had completely re-imagined it.I had removed her from her own narration. I couldn’t hear her voice, I couldn’t picture her speaking the words I had written. I did my best to preserve the facts she mentioned, to incorporate words that I thought she would have used if she could speak English. It didn't work; the resulting narrative was entirely fictional, misplaced, pretentious. It was hollow. Emptied of connotation, of the history carried by the words she chose. It was empty of her own self-perception which was being manifested along the way her narration evolved. For example, why was her thinking of the English soldiers as 'gentlemen' ironic? She actually used the word: ‘Ευγενείς’; a word that could easily be seen as a direct translation of the word ‘gentlemen’. A word that I had never heard her use, a word she preserved specifically for English soldiers. Why did she have this impression despite the fact that they forced her to stay indoors, that they thought her pregnancy could be a trap? I thought that it could be about the way the soldiers perceived and carried themselves; how they presented themselves. But also, I thought, my grandma saw them as ‘gentlemen’ in contrast to others. In contrast to her own manners, her husband’s, her father’s. She found the soldiers more..civilized (that’s the word), cultured. After all it was in contrast to other invaders and colonizers, others that she thought as fiercer. Maybe even with a touch of sarcasm? Is that why that word was followed by her soft giggle? All these, I thought (either wrongly or correctly, it doesn’t even matter) just because she chose to use that one word. All lost in translation and de-contextualisation. Is there a way I could have conveyed all these by choosing a better word? Would It ever be possible not to explain anything at all? Was it going to be easier if I used ‘Common Greek’ (standardized Greek?) rather than English? Just as strange. Lost connotations, lost history, not the form of language I am totally comfortable with. “... Τσ’αι πε μας Διενή, πα στες παλληκαρκές σου, Πάνω στες παιδκιωσύνες σου, τσ’αι τες αντρειωρκές σου...” No, the dialect is not an option for me; I am neither trained nor encouraged to write in Cypriot. And let’s face it. I am ashamed of even trying to use it as a medium of expression. This realisation almost brings me to tears. Now, on the verge of sleep I am realising that I ‘ve chosen to write in English just to wash off any trace of embarrassment. During this distorted drowsy fragment of time I am finding out why the load of poems locked in the drawer are so much concerned with a deep sense of alienation. Soft snore. -p1. “It was 1957. I was at home with my father. I could tell, it was almost time I gave birth to your uncle. My husband wasn’t at home. Him and my brother were taken to... to a... imagine a sort of a camp; a school-yard it was actually. The English were gathering young men together every now and then..just to show off power. Everyone else had to stay on a lockdown except women. They were allowed to go out once every day to get water; there wasn’t water supply at home. Anyway, my father had to find a way to get a midwife at home for me, but he wasn't even allowed to get out of the house... so he looked through the dictionary and annotated the word ‘Μαμμού’ (that is, ‘midwife’), he waited at the window and as soon as he saw two soldiers passing by he ran outside, towards them, holding the dictionary and pointing at the annotated word. "Please", he said. Oh! The soldiers were proper gentlemen! “ She giggles. “Very soon our door knocked, they were back along with an English nurse. You know, they had to make sure that my pregnancy was real rather than a trap. Once they did, they sent the midwife and I gave birth to your uncle” Sighs “Can you hear me well? I can’t hear you very well girls. I go nowhere these days; I stay at home all day, this quarantine reminds me of colonial times” We all stay at home grandma. “ I went to no one’s house for lunch on Sunday. What are you having for lunch girls? I want to see the fridge, show me. Are you stockpiling? Good, that looks enough for a while. “ We have to go now grandma. Hopefully someone else will call soon. -p1 I don’t care I don’t care anymore. I don’t care about anything. I don’t want to. I’m starting to see things in a different way. (- είσαι καλά ρε θείο;) I hate everyone. Everyone is horrible and will remain horrible for as long as there are humans on earth. I don’t want to speak to anyone. I want to not have to care about anything. [But most people still work from home] They can do whatever they want. I don’t care, I don’t want to. *** ‘But yeah, I am reading about how shitty the situation is in Spain :( just be strong <3’ When things slow down you make connections you never thought you would. I’ve come closer to some and grown apart with others. It hurts with some, it doesn’t hurt with others. It mostly hurts. Yesterday I dreamt that there were ghosts in my apartment. Dying but not completely. The living dead in my apartment. No more jogging for us. -p2 What’s important right now is your mental health. You don’t need to worry about your studies right now. I’ve never heard that before ever. After my last phone call with my supervisor (it was supposed to be a face-to-face meeting) I can’t concentrate. I’m sorry but I can’t concentrate so I’ve been putting off studying for the longest time. Whenever I try to study my mind just wanders off to anxiety inducing thoughts. Now I am free to binge watch Love is Blind. But it doesn’t stop there. It spirals downwards. From Love is Blind to Celebs Go Dating. But I want to:
We are definitely doing the quarantine thing right. Jogging, learning, (not studying), creating. *** The tab - “coronavirus has taken the last months of our student life away and it’s okay to be upset” Eye.Fucking.Roll At the time of the Spanish flu (35% mortality rate affecting mostly young, healthy people many of whom were soldiers living under unsanitary conditions) people were used to quarantine coz they were doing it all the time. This fucking generation. Fucking spoiled brats. Just stay the fuck at home and shut up. Fucking privileged, spoiled brats. *** I’ve only worn yoga pants and pyjamas for the past two weeks. I missed wine evenings and late nights and sleep overs with N. I want my life back. *** I can’t see the score. They are all tiny and smooshed together. B is on the third line so what I’m looking at must be (B,C,D) D, it must be D. Too fast. No, that’s too fast. Slow down. (Okay, I’ll slow down.) *** The other day, I saw a selfie of me wearing my golden hoops. I bought two pairs of hoops, gold and silver, and I was wearing them all the time. I stopped wearing my other earrings (keep in mind I love earrings). Yesterday night I dreamt that I was wearing my hoops. *** Our lives slide out of view And there is nothing left to do. *** Can we go home now? -p2 Where is my napkin ? I am developing a new phobia; fear of touching a surface without a glove or a wet wipe between your skin and the surface. I don’t think such a phobia is actually a thing...yet. We have found a technique for getting out of the building without touching anything at all; not with bare hands. One takes up the role of the 'puller' and the other of the 'carrier'. The puller has to grab a napkin and pull any doors found on our way while the carrier carries the shopping or whatever needs to be carried. Today it is luggage and a guitar. We are travelling from Manchester to Coventry. We feel terrified ; at least I do. I am sure I’ve never felt such dread before. Nearly everything seems scary; the gate of the building, the door - handle of the taxi, the taxi-driver who ‘s less than two meters away. Did my hair catch the virus? I should probably tie it. At least there are still trains. I used to despise the noise at the train station. I actually can’t tolerate any noise at all but the complete absence of noise is intimidating. Had I not wished for the people and the hubbub to disappear every time I walked through the train station ? Had I not wished to be able to stay at home, to never see another human being? To not have anything to do with people? Why was it so difficult now? I never thought that seeing Manchester deserted would be so painful. We entered the platform’s gates, they were open. We had a couple of bags, my guitar and an extremely heavy suitcase in which we were dragging around our grocery shopping. We put it in the train’s luggage area, it could barely fit. Then we sat as far away from the one and only other passenger of our coach. - Where are you going? You two at the back. - Us? Erm we are going home... - Where is home ? Where is home? I don't think the policeman was fully aware of the philosophical character of this question. I didn't speak for a few seconds. I was reflecting on what I actually think about his question when his voice interrupted me: - Where is home? I noticed my lips move involuntarily. Then I heard my voice answer very loudly: ~home is in Coventry" . He was standing at the opposite end of the coach. At least I managed to speak loudly although I was in a public place. This could be somehow treating my social anxiety. -p1 And so I started worrying; as soon as I realized hand sanitizers were absent from the shelves. The day before I was still laughing it off with dad, back home in Cyprus. Today I had to buy a kitchen-roll instead of toilet paper. It’s just another flu, we said. The common flu has killed more, we thought. It's just another fear to entertain those who enjoy being scared; another conspiracy. The pubs are still open, I heard, don’t be afraid, I heard, ten thousand people were killed but they were old, so don’t be afraid; go to the gym. A few days went by. Job after job, plan after plan...everything was cancelled. A few days ago I had a picnic in the country back home in Cyprus. Today I was debating whether it is safe to walk out the door. My phone vibrated. ‘Where is the message?’ I scrolled through ten notifications from newspapers I never subscribed to. Scrolled a little bit more; there it is. 'I am having a lot of fun’. My sister was out on a daytrip. I didn’t want her to realize I was panicking. ‘Ask her kindly when she reckons she ‘ll fucking go back home and stay there’ I thought to myself. Tomorrow she says. When tomorrow came she went out to the cinema she said. It’s dangerous, I said. I didn’t know if it was dangerous; I also planned a night out at the cinema but my friends cancelled so it’s dangerous I said. Come over, I said. -p1 This is actually bad.
(it’s a fucking flu) They’ve closed everything down in Greece and everyone is on lockdown. Everyone is on lockdown for 100 cases. The cases here are far more but nothing is being done here. What do you want me to do? Put the whole country on lockdown by myself? we are worried that you are not taking this as seriously as you should. - Just try to keep your voice down a bit we are in the coach. (relax you are not getting coronavirus.) How do you know? Plenty of people have it. (I am sure you are not getting coronavirus) Aaron has it. (How do you know? He hasn’t been tested.) He has fever and a cough and difficulty breathing. (like every regular flu) His family drove down from Birmingham and brought him canned food. He has to stay in his bed on his own for 7 days. (You shouldn’t have said that to our parents. We are alone here) I shouldn’t have gone to Notts. Am I irresponsible? (relax I worked at the arts centre for an event with 1000 visitors you are not irresponsible) This is actually bad and nothing is being done here. I am sorry I have to cancel. I hope you understand that in this climate I don’t feel comfortable coming to work. Thank you. *** I’m leaving . I’m going to my sister in Manchester. (And when are you coming back?) I don’t know. (This is the best for you. You are doing the right thing.) I was kind of nervous to tell you. (When are you coming back? Oh yeah you don’t know) I don’t know. *** - I wanted to see you before leaving but I didn’t want to be annoying. Don’t be stupid, you are not annoying. I wanted to see you as well. Do you have to go to London? It’s really bad there. -Well, everyone I care about is there. Okay fair enough. Just be careful. *** Perfect timing. (I went to the bookstore to get some books for the quarantine) This will probably be over in a week and I’ll be back. (Don’t worry about me I’ll deal with it, I always deal with it.) -p2 |
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