Curries and Parties *

2006-10-22 12:16 a.m.

So it was last Sunday that I paid £9.30 for a Beef in Black bean sauce (my favourite overseas Chinese dish since young), a chicken and mushroom soup and plain rice take away. Three quarters way through the meal, Paul came out of his room and proceed to lock his door. “Where are you off too?” I asked, between bites of beef. “Upstairs.” “Stacey’s room?” I continued. That was right, then he remarked they were cooking curry upstairs and he and Rhys were heading up to help. After more exchange of information, I hurried down the rest of my meal, deciding to head upstairs with them. After all, it was a Sunday night with work well, mostly done.

Rhys and I joined him about twenty minutes later. As I entered, the aroma of spices filled my senses. If you think it was a second rate sort of curry being cooked, think again. If you think it was a sweet type of curry to appeal to western palates, think again. It was a genuine setting, with cut cucumber, broken pieces of Papadums, biscuits and chutney. Some joke was made between Rhys and Paul about the cucumber slices while I watched the girls bustling about at the stove. A few minutes later, Heather (or was it Laura?) asked which type of curry we would prefer. Type of curry? You bet. There was either chicken Khorma or the more spicy one. I ended up picking the Khorma (those who know me well enough would know what my palate desires).

But in between the preparation and the serving of the food, another round of conversation and laughter followed. Topics varied greatly but the only one I can recall was that regarding our Block Student Mentor. The details shall not be discussed over here for certain reasons. Meanwhile, the girls were bringing out stacks of plates a cutlery. Surely they weren’t planning to feed more than who was in the room?

Indeed they has cooked and invited more than I had suspected. Paul when down to fetch Matt who was just home after Rugby practice. Then two more guys from another flat came up, one also by the name of Paul. Meanwhile, I was tucking in to the Chicken Khorma, which was really good. I must have mentioned that remark more than several times to Heather and Laura but I was not exaggerating. It may have been just chicken breast pieces but it was tender and the rice was just perfect. Sort of reminded me of the time in Scouts when we desperately tried to perfect our rice.

Phil would come up just after most of us had finished, but that wasn’t all there was to the meal. The girls asked if anyone liked a cup of Cappuccino and two hands came up. Meanwhile the conversation still went on, about one of the guys drama rehearsals and the latest Rugby match which I missed. Oh yes, the side dishes sort of finished fast too. I kept on grabbing a handful of Pappadums to crunch on while the others tackled the biscuits and chutney. Then the subject switch to cooking and Phil remarked about the undercooked chicken he had for lunch. Somehow, that progressed to the topic of us boys cooking and the phrase” boiled chicken” came up again and again. Ah, it was funny there and then.

Coffee wasn’t the last dish./drink. Desert came around in the form of cakes bought from Shackleton dining hall and other assorted puffs and cakes. I selected a rather crumbly one and the topic once again changed. Then as soon as it all started, I left early thanking the girls once again for the scrumptious meal. In a way, it wasn’t exactly a waste of the nine pounds and thirty pence Chinese Meal since I could still finish the curry. All in all, it was a lovely evening. God Bless those ladies upstairs.

In other news, it has been more than three weeks since I’ve left Singapore and stayed here on my own. That’s longer than the time I spent in Frankenberg, Germany, the only time I had been away from home. I’ve actually settled down pretty well and managed to survive on weekends. That is, I’ve managed to gather food for all three meals. Although I must admit I should venture to a greater variety of food and should cook more than just eggs and bacon. Especially since practically every other flatmate can really cook up a mouth watering meal. And it’s also not as if the supermarkets are far away…

Just yesterday evening, I “took a break” from work and watched a bit of a Rugby match. Rugby is a lot more refined that soccer/football and it is indeed a gentlemen’s game. Still haven’t figured out all the rules though. Then after completing more Maths work, I downed one can of beer with Paul and headed to the Block Party at Block 16. The environment was really like some disco/club with blarring music and beer going around. Stacey and Rhys were there and it I hardly could make out the conversation between Paul and her. After deciphering some of it, I would have to say for the benefit of my Singaporean readers, what occurred was the British version of “talking cock” and I mean it is no degrading way. It’s not like your coffee shop Singlish sort of talk, it’s like rapid topic switch, teasing, “fake bullying” and that sort. Ok, hard to describe.

That continued as we migrated to Stacey’s flat to escape the noise. As if really continued. Heather appeared and then suddenly there like jokes and teasing occurring every five minutes. Certain stuff included the “torturing” of a wooden man, the commenting of some late night soap opera and well others. Really really not the sort of talk you’ll find in Singapore but well, when in Rome, do as the Romans do.

This may or rather should mark the end of my few updates on life in Birmingham. There’s more practical stuff to do.

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