Category Archives: Child rearing

One day eating in Manila

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Manila, the capital of the Philippines and the country’s largest metro area, is one of those places that you rarely hear about international tourists visiting unless they are either originally from there, are visiting family, or simply transiting through to get to more (internationally) popular places like Boracay or Palawan. With a population of over 14 million people, Metro Manila is one of the most densely populated cities in the world. It is also known for its chaotic traffic, which I was quite wary of before we arrived. Manila to the Philippines is kind of like Jakarta to Indonesia from an international traveler’s standpoint: it’s a capital city that people either transit through or manage to avoid entirely because most international travelers prefer more buzzy destinations, like Palawan, Cebu, or Boracay in the Philippines, or for Indonesia, the most obvious destination of Bali.

Manila is a strange city in that its large skyscrapers are not all concentrated in one section of the city. It actually has several very disparate parts of the city that are very spread out, each with their own concrete jungles! I noticed this when we were landing at the airport and thought about how unusual this was. We split our one day in Manila yesterday between the historic neighborhood and its Chinatown, also known as Binondo, which is supposed to be the oldest Chinatown in the world. It was established in 1594 as a permanent settlement for Chinese-Catholic immigrants. One thing I didn’t realize before coming to Manila and reading about it is that there’s actually a distinctive fusion cuisine for Chinese-Filipino food. One of the examples we got to try today was the Binondo-style fresh lumpia. This is not lumpia as in the Filipino fried egg rolls you may be familiar with, but rather a freshly packed spring roll stuffed with various vegetables, minced pork, crushed peanuts, brown sugar, seaweed, and crispy fried vermicelli noodles. To be honest, this was a bit sweet for us, but it did emphasize how Filipinos do like their foods on the sweeter side.

Siomai (or shu mai/shao mai/siu mai) is wildly popular here: you see endless street vendors selling these, and pretty much all the restaurants have different versions of them. They are huge, plump, fat, and brimming with pork. These are far larger than the ones you’d get at the average Chinese spot, whether it was for takeout or at a dim sum/tea house. We got some at a noodle shop we visited, and they were multiple mouthfuls big! The ones I am used to eating in Cantonese restaurants and dim sum houses typically have a mix of pork and shrimp, but these had pork only.

One interesting thing I liked seeing were the Lunar New Year decorations already up and being sold on the streets. The wreath that stood out to me the most was a true fusion of Chinese and Filipino cultures: a round wreath of calamansis all around, framing a teeny tiny fist-sized pineapple, then wrapped with a red bow, with red and gold tassels dangling down. That’s probably the best Lunar New Year decoration I’ve ever seen — ever. I would love to hang that in my house (and have unlimited access to calamansis!).

I also love that little calamansis are served with pretty much all your dishes to add a little sour/tart flair to your food. This came with pretty much everything, whether it was dry noodles, soup noodles, or sizzling meat plates. While I didn’t always add this to my dishes, I did either suck them up myself or have Kaia eat them. Kaia enjoyed chewing them down to pulp! These tiny suckers have so many seeds for how small they are! Kaia did NOT enjoy all the seeds, though.

In just our first day in the Philippines, we already got our ube fix: in the morning, we shared a mango topped ube cheesecake shake; Kaia requested an ube swirl bun from a little bakery in the historical neighborhood. There, I saw a six-pack of ube cheese pandesal for just 120 PHP – that’s about $2 USD. I was tempted to get it, but I thought that my head was getting a bit too ahead of my belly, so I resisted. In the afternoon at Divisoria Mall, we shared a mango smoothie, plus our first halo halo topped with a huge scoop of ube ice cream. I wasn’t sure what Kaia liked more – the ube ice cream or all the colorful jellies mixed into the shaved ice.

We ended the day in Bonifacio Global City (BGC), a neighborhood that seemed a world away from Chinatown and the historical neighborhood, and ate a delicious meal of kare kare beef stew, lechon kawali, and garlic rice, with fresh calamansi and dalandan (a Filipino citrus) juices. If there was one thing to be certain about the Philippines, it is that I was pretty darn sure we would eat well here. And after just a day, I can say I was definitely right in that assumption.

A happy breakfast buffet surprise in Manila: Taho (tofu pudding) station!

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Over the last 13 years, Chris and I have been very lucky and privileged to experience some really phenomenal breakfast buffets at hotels across the world. We’ve seen complex noodle stations, made-to-order hand rolls, dim sum baskets galore, and pooris, dosa, and uttappam made to order. But one thing that I’d actually never seen that I never thought about before breakfast at our Manila hotel today was… a doufu hua or tofu pudding station! Tofu pudding can be served savory or sweet, with lots of toppings or with pretty much none. While I’ve had the savory ones and have enjoyed them, especially while in China or Taiwan, my heart is with the sweet dessert version since it’s what I grew up with. As a child, I was given doufu fa / dou hua as a treat. It was always silky smooth and soft tofu, served with a brown sugar syrup (sometimes with ginger, my favorite!). More elaborate versions now have fresh fruit, different types of tapioca balls, flavored jellies; it can get really colorful and complex!

Taho is what Filipinos call tofu pudding. Like in many Asian countries, it is a popular snack that is made from silken tofu, served with a sweet syrup (in this case, it was a brown syrup). This version is topped with large, chewy, springy tapioca balls. The tapioca balls were almost clear in color, and lightly sweetened. I took several pictures of the taho station and of course, indulged in a bowl this morning. I thought about my mom, who absolutely loves tofu pudding. When she worked in Quy Nhon for the U.S. Army, she occasionally would save money and “splurge” on a cup of tofu pudding from a street vendor. So she used to share this story with me all the time when I was young. And then when she took me to Vietnam in 2007 and we were walking the streets of Quy Nhon together, we got tofu pudding off the street. And the memory became a shared moment for both of us to enjoy the same thing together as she did during her youth — in the same place as back then.

While my mom has passed this love down to me, I have not quite passed this love down to Kaia yet — she’s tried dou hua a number of times, but she doesn’t seem that enthused by it. When I offered her a spoonful of the taho this time, she immediately rejected it. That’s okay — more for me (for now)!

Off to the Philippines

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And just like that, our time in Australia has wrapped up for the year. Chris’s parents dropped us off at Melbourne airport this morning for an early flight to Sydney, where we’d have a layover before boarding our flight to Manila. At the Melbourne Qantas lounge, I got to enjoy my last little bits of Australian goodness before we left, like my last delicious, well-made flat white, as well as my favorite do-it-yourself juicer machine: for myself, I made my usual carrot-apple, and for Kaia, I made her apple juice with both red and green apples at her request. During our layover in Sydney, we hung out for a bit at the international first lounge there, and we got lucky when we entered, as someone had cancelled a 10-minute facial appointment. So Chris added my name to that slot, and within four minutes of entering the lounge, I got an indulgent little facial at the spa. These are all the luxuries that I never even knew existed before the age of 25. Kaia has been exposed to them since before she was even one, flying internationally at age 11 months.

When we arrived in Manila, we took a Grab to our hotel, which is part of a resort that’s directly across from the airport. We got a large suite that overlooked the airport, so Kaia could enjoy watching planes land and take off. This last segment of our trip is already off to a great start.

When Kaia met Modi

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Earlier this year, Chris’s parents got a robot vaccum/mop to relieve them of maintaining their large house. They decided to name the robot vacuum Modi, after Narendra Modi, the prime minister of India. Opinions about the Indian prime minister are usually quite polarizing. So Chris’s parents say they named the robot this because they “want to put Modi to work!” They took Modi out today so that Kaia could see him in action cleaning their house. “Modi has a mind of its own,” Chris’s mom always likes to say. And when I watched it in action, I finally understood what she meant. Modi creates a map of each room it enters, and it shows what it goes over and cleans and what it has yet to clean. It follows no one straight or understandable path, but when it looks like it’s missed a spot, it does eventually go back to it…. on its own time, and with its own method. The robot vacuum connects to an app on your phone, so you can trace its history of cleaning.The vacuum function seems useful, but I actually found the mop function even more handy. Mopping is annoying and painful even if you have all the furniture removed, so to have a machine do this for you would be a huge benefit. Not only would it relieve you of the strenuous effort, but it would also give you back a lot of time. Unfortunately, his parents have not used the mop function, so we have no data points on how good it would actually do in this department.

I loved watching Kaia interact with Modi. She kept following Modi, going behind and in front of it. She loved yelling, “Mo-DEE!” over and over and over again. She got worried when it got close to her scooter, and she yelled, “Don’t crash my scooter!” She talked to it as though it could actually hear her.

As much as his parents ran Modi for Kaia’s entertainment, I actually liked seeing it in action myself. The last time I watched a robot vacuum in action was over ten years ago, when my cousin got my aunt a very early robot vacuum. I found it really underwhelming: it missed spots, and it was agonizingly slow and inefficient… not to mention it cost way more than it should have given what a poor job it did. I guess Modi is an example of technology that has evolved. The first iterations may be crappy, but it can only improve over time.

Kaia loves big spaces and roaming around her “Sumi and Topey’s house” and garden

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Kaia has decided to rename Suma and Topa (her paternal grandparents) to “Sumi and Topey.” I guess “Suma” and “Topa” were not loving enough names, so she had to give these appointed names a slight revision to make it more sweet for herself. Of course, Chris’s parents have lapped this up and love their revised names by their granddaughter. Kaia has enjoyed spending lots of time in Topa’s study “working.” She takes his main big computer desk chair and relegates him to his tiny “guest” seat, and they sit at the desk together “working.” Kaia usually listens to Ms. Rachel or her favorite K-Pop song “Golden,” while Topa does his usual computer activities at her side. Then, when Kaia decides she gets bored, she runs out, puts on her sandals, and runs all around the garden, oftentimes with her Sumi in tow. She throws her big Bluey ball around and starts dancing all along the backyard lawn. She’s been keeping Sumi company while she hangs laundry up to dry on the line. Today, she started collecting all kinds of random tiny shells that lined the outside laundry area and declared she was discovering all kinds of interesting things that Sumi didn’t know existed in her own backyard!

For the last week or so, she keeps announcing how much she loves Sumi and Topey’s house. She says, “SUMI! I LOVE YOUR HOUSE! TOPEY! I LOVE YOUR HOUSE! I LOVE IT! I LOVE THE GARDEN!” And then she lovingly glances at both of them. Today, she looked up at me during breakfast and said, “Mama, I love this house. I don’t like our house.”

Yes, well, it is hard to compare a suburban four-bedroom, four-bath, two-story house with a two-car garage, plus a front and backyard that fully wraps around it, with a two-bedroom, two-bath apartment in a large high-rise building in the middle of a concrete jungle, especially for a child as young and small as her. For Pookster, our Manhattan apartment is her benchmark for “normal.” I am sure she runs up and down the stairs at Suma and Topa’s house and all around the large rooms thinking she’s sprinting around some palace, relatively speaking. And then, if it wasn’t enough, she gets access to Chris’s aunt/uncles’ homes that are also large in comparison to our humble abode, and she just thinks she’s in some paradise. Today, I gave her a tour of Chris’s dad’s older brother’s garden, showing her the various trees, having her sniff the star jasmines that were in full bloom, and showing her the apples growing on her second cousin’s tree. I had her tear off a couple curry leaves from their burgeoning curry leaf plant, and she sniffed the familiar and unique scent of citrusy, nutty, anisey, oniony, even piney aroma. She then grabbed a bunch of the curry leaves, ran back into the house, and announced loudly to multiple cousins that she had curry leaves in her hands!

Sumi, Topey, and I reassured her that her house is fun, too, and we all love it. She loves it, and she has all her favorite books, stuffed animals, toys, and other “friends” at home waiting for her there. She also has her own bathroom at home, which she doesn’t have here. She smiled, stopped saying she didn’t like our home, yet still kept repeating over and over how much she loves this house. Well, it’s hard to not love this house given the amount of space and privacy you can have. But I look at it like dessert or treats: it’s something you get once in a while at special times of the year, but you cannot have it all the time, otherwise you would just take it for granted and not appreciate it as much. Both Kaia and I are lucky to be able to share this home when we come back with Sumi, Topey, and their eldest son. I’m always happy every year we come back and we can enjoy this beautiful place together. It will always be one of Kaia’s happy places — how lucky that she gets a nice, warm, loving home in both the Northern and Southern Hemisphere.

Family dynamics and commentary at Christmas

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Today, we spent Christmas day and Chris’s 44th birthday at his dad’s younger sister’s house. This sister has three daughters, all of whom have moved to different parts of the world (Perth, New Zealand, and Canada). From everything I’ve observed about the way this aunt and her husband have raised their kids and the relationship they all have with each other across five people, it’s probably one of the happiest, most healthy and functional family dynamics I’ve ever been exposed to on a semi-regularly basis (okay… semi-regular as in once a year for many, many hours at a time). The kids all keep in touch with their parents. They have a loving sibling relationship with one another and always speak favorably about each other. And they are all supportive of their parents.

As I was chatting with another aunt during lunch today, she was observing how helpful all three daughters (and even one of the daughters’ husbands) were, as they seemed to have something like an assembly line of “getting shit done” going: one daughter was gathering plates and silverware that were no longer being used, another was scraping off food scraps into a bin and arranging them into the dishwasher, and the third was wiping down the kitchen island and rearranging napkins, plates, and desserts into their places. This was all while their parents were consolidating food into smaller containers and organizing other snacks for guests. This aunt, who has two sons, told me that though she was happy her oldest was close and would be here when she hosted all of us over tomorrow on Boxing Day, she was still sad her youngest son in London plus his daughter could not be there). Because not only would that mean she could see both of them, but she’d have an extra set of hands to help since she’s getting older and more tired. I reassured her and told her I’d be happy to help — I don’t really look at it as “work” since it’s easier when more people pitch in.

This aunt kept peering over at her three nieces at work in the kitchen. “It’s just always so nice when all the kids are home. It’s more lively and fun, and they can help out with everything, as well!” She paused for a moment, then glanced over at Chris’s brother, who has infamously been known in the family to not really help out… with much at all, anywhere, and be totally oblivious to this fact (and perhaps even worse, not care). And then she added while continuing to look at him: “Well, it’s happy when most of the kids help out.”

That’s the thing about family: you can love them to bits, but they can truly annoy the fuck out of you regarding how unaware they are of their own deficiencies that negatively impact everyone around them. But I suppose that’s what family is all about: loving your family, blood-related or chosen, despite their imperfections… and maybe even sometimes because of their imperfections. In these cases, at least it provides some comic relief.

Watching your child while she’s unaware you’re watching

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The first time we were able to observe Kaia without her knowing was at her first daycare/school, where we had in-class camera access throughout the school day. It was interesting to have that view into how she acts not just with other adults/figures of authority without us there, but also how she mingled with other children of various ages.

When I’m staying at Chris’s parents’ home, there are many times I’ve observed her when she hasn’t been aware. The easiest times are when she’s in the backyard, frolicking, running, and playing with Chris’s mom. She thinks I’m in the kitchen/lounge area cooking or doing work on my computer. And while I am usually doing those things, I often stop and just watch what she’s doing and how they interact with each other.

In the yard, they do things that you’d expect: they’re watering plants, picking up fallen leaves or twigs. Kaia is asking about flowers, and her Suma is quizzing her on colors and shapes. She’s also educating her on types of plants and what different leaves look like. I can hear them through the window discuss the maple leaves falling from their tree, and Kaia is giggling hysterically as she gathers a handful of fresh green maple leaves and starts throwing them about, causing Suma to get flustered and lightly scold her and tell her not to make too much of a mess. When Kaia gets bored of the flora education, she moves on and brings out her Bluey ball and demands that Suma kick the ball. When Suma doesn’t kick the ball hard enough or the “right way,” then Kaia gets mad and demands that she do it again and again and again… until it meets her “standard.”

I was watching them this morning, and I just felt this overwhelming feeling of happiness. I kept staring out at the garden, smiling at them. They were completely oblivious that they were being watched. It was almost like my heart was swelling to see how happy Kaia is to be spending time with her paternal grandma. The concept of “mudita” strikes again. She loves this house, the seemingly endless rooms, the stairs she can run up and down, the large bathrooms and the enormous space compared to our two-bed, two-bathroom Manhattan apartment. She loves seeing her Suma and Topa every day and knowing they will be there. Out of nowhere, she started yelling today, “Suma, I like your house! I LOVE YOUR HOUSE! I LOVE THIS HOUSE!”

I didn’t know that my heart could ever expand as much as it has being a mother. But I feel like it still hasn’t stopped expanding just yet. It feels like there is more love for her and our family to come.

Lack of comfort discussing the elimination of bodily wastes, and Poop and Fart Bingo games!

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Since Kaia was born, Chris and I have had an ongoing discussion about her poops and pees. Pediatricians and all healthcare professionals recommend it for parents to do for their babies since it’s the only way to know what actually went in (because… what goes in must also come out!). This is especially crucial if you are breastfeeding and especially nursing, since with direct breastfeeding, there is no other way to truly measure what the baby consumed. We used to keep a paper log, then a Google spreadsheet log. And then once Kaia turned 14 months of age, we would just have a verbal back and forth about it throughout the day or week. For us, we’re just trying to be good parents and track our child’s inputs and outputs, so we don’t see this being peculiar at all. We never saw it as something we liked or didn’t like to discuss; for us, it seemed like the responsible parent thing to do to ensure our child’s good health.

One funny thing I’ve noticed over the last four years now is that Chris’s parents are very, very uncomfortable with conversations around… the elimination of bodily wastes. It doesn’t matter if it’s pooping, peeing, or farting — they immediately look awkward and embarrassed, and his dad usually tries his best to quickly divert the conversation in another direction. He would shift in his seat, look another way where no one was to avert eye contact, and act as though no poop/pee conversation were happening at all. A number of times, his mom has gotten exasperated by the constant bodily waste conversation that she has exclaimed in many different ways, “My goodness! So much talk about poo and pee all the time! Will you still be keeping tabs on this for Kaia when she’s in her teens and 20s?”

Chris’s and my parents’ generation obviously had very different newborn/child-rearing advice than Chris and I’ve had. Things change and evolve over time, and I think on the surface, they do recognize this and try to follow our lead with most things we do for Kaia. With the poop/pee talk, there’s zero chance they could try to get us to stop it even if they wanted to because we’ll do what we need to do to ensure our child is healthy, nourished, and having the appropriate outputs in a day. It’s more just amusing to me how some people are so uncomfortable with actions that need to be done by all of us every single day, multiple times a day. It’s true that none of us really needs an audience there when we’re on the toilet or farting. But with child rearing, the conversation does need to be had. It gets even more hilarious because Chris and I comment now on how big and stinky her poops can be (this is physical proof that she eats a varied, well-rounded diet!) as well as how long her pees are, and his parents think we’re a little crazy about this. We also tell them how she loves to see her poops and peer closely into the toilet bowl after. And she loves to get reactions from me yelling out in Chinese, “What a big poop!” Sometimes, she even insists that I come over to see it when Chris is in charge of wiping her and going through the hand-washing motion together.

I thought about his parents’ lack of comfort around all things toilet related when we were browsing a shop along Chapel Street in South Yarra today, and we came across these games called “Poop Bingo and “Fart Bingo.” The Bingos are geared for playing with kids, and they are exactly what you expect them to be: they show you caricatures of animals and their different types of poop, as well as… what may come out of an animal’s anus when they fart (apparently, those potential… things that can come out are not technically poop!). I jokingly suggested to Chris that we buy them to play with his parents, and he chuckled and thought it could be funny. The better (and cheaper) side of me decided not to get it because the amusement would be short-lived, and they might play it once or twice with us and then stop. That probably would not be the greatest ROI (return on investment) on a gift.

Martinborough wine and pizza and Putangirua Pinnacles Scenic Reserve

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Today, we drove about an hour northeast of Wellington to the famous Martinborough wine region of New Zealand. While globally, Marlborough in the South Island is renowned for its sauvignon blanc, which is the region’s most famous export (and it’s pretty darn delicious — it really is just as vibrant, zesty, and crisp as it is described to be!), Martinborough in the North Island is known for its pinot noir. But the region also produces delicious and notable chardonnay, sauvignon blanc, pinot gris, and syrah. We visited the Nga Waka Winery, where we tasted some local pinot noirs and chardonnays, and also enjoyed their Napoletana style “Roving Pizza.”

We chose their pizza special of the day, which was mortadella, fior di latte mozzarella (‘flower of the milk” variety that is made using cow’s milk in the same style as buffalo mozzarella), crushed pistachios, lots of garlic, and fresh basil. We pretty much inhaled that pizza — it had the perfect crust, perfect cheese, a ton of intense garlic which I loved, and almost had an addictive quality. When I have pizzas like this that are unquestionably incredible and perfect, it always reminds me of how people love to make absolute statements like, “the best pizza in the world is in New York/New Jersey/Connecticut/Italy.” I think if those people had this pizza at Nga Waka Winery that they would be lying if they said they could get better pizza in any of those places than this. I left this winery wondering if we’d have even just an “okay” level meal while in New Zealand this time around, and so far after five out of six days, i would say that the answer to that is negative.

After our tasting and pizza/calamari lunch, we headed towards Putangirua Pinnacles Scenic Reserve for a hike. Putangirua Pinnacles are some of the best earth pillar formations in New Zealand. The last time we saw earth pillar formations, also known as hoodoos, was at Bryce Canyon National Park in Utah, back in the U.S. Bryce Canyon is known for having the largest collection of hoodoos in the world; this scenic reserve would not have the largest collection or the tallest hoodoos, but they’d still be fascinating to visit, and we’d also get some exercise on the way there! The history behind these hoodoos is that about seven million years ago, the Aorangi Range was an island. As the mountains eroded, gravel was washed down to the coast, where they formed a sedimentary layer. Over the last 120,000 years, the Putangirua Stream exposed this ancient layer of gravel to the erosive forces of rain and floods. Some of the sediments stayed concreted together, while others washed away. The result is the Putangirua Pinnacles, often called “an amazing collection of hoodoos.” This area was used as a filming location for the “Paths of the Dead” scene in Return of the King, the third movie in the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Somehow, we managed to get Kaia to hike the entire two-hour round-trip hike without much whining and whinging at all. The only times she had to be carried by Chris were when we had to cross little streams on rocks, and she was afraid she would fall in. She did amazingly well, and even when she stumbled a few times and fell, she still kept soldiering on, despite a lot of uneven terrain and a lot of uphill steps and climbing. We were so proud of her when we all made it up to the top, and even more so when she went all the way down and still did it independently without demanding.to stop and be carried.

This is our third time to New Zealand together, and I felt a little sad as we came to the end of today, which is our last full day here before we fly back to Melbourne tomorrow afternoon. New Zealand is this beautiful country made of volcanic islands that seems like there’s always so much to see and so little time. But I guess that just means that there is always next time. And since I paid the $100 NZD conservation fee (Chris and Pookster didn’t have to pay since they have Australian passports) on top of my nominal ETA fee, which lasts two years, maybe we should come back again soon!

Berry picking continued, plus kiwi hospitality and friendliness

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We drove up from Wellington towards Palmerston North today. It’s a city that has history within Chris’s family since his uncle went to college there (he studied food technology; I clearly went on the wrong educational path…). And during that time, Chris’s dad visited him and did some physical labor I had no idea about (and would be hard to imagine if you knew him as he is today!) in order to fund his travels. For his first day, he tried to carry hay barrels and quit after one shift (it was physically grueling and intense, to say the least). Then, he proceeded to spend about six weeks, six days a week, about eight hours a day, picking strawberries. I cannot imagine Chris’s dad picking fruit all day, any day — ever!

Since Chris’s cousin’s husband is originally from Palmerston North, Chris asked him for suggestions on what to do. He pointed us to the Levin Adventure Park, a humongous outdoor playground with play areas for kids of multiple age ranges, and could even keep adults (like me!) entertained. The space was so well appointed that it even had clean public restrooms that were attended to regularly, plus an indoor picnicking area in the event of inclement weather.

Chris’s cousin’s husband also suggested we look into blueberry farms, since the area was known for them, and we were coming at peak blueberry season. So amazingly, Chris actually took us to a blueberry farm for pick-your-own! He has always been anti fruit picking (e.g. “Why am I paying to pick? It’s like I am paying to do work!!”), but he said that this was not apple picking (which he absolutely detests because in the Northeast of the U.S. once fall comes, this is what every family seems to do), and if we were going to do some fruit picking, it better be something as good as berries and in a place as beautiful as New Zealand. So, I suppose those are all fair points to make. When we arrived at the farm, Kaia was napping and very unhappy to be woken up. We plopped her on a chair overlooking the blueberry shrubs and said if she wanted to join us, she could. It took all of five minutes for her to ask to enter the picking area. Here, the owners said we could taste but “no free lunches,” so unfortunately for Kaia, she was blocked from tasting as much as she wanted. But she still enjoyed the experience and loved picking every single blueberry and happily dropping them into our bucket.

When the time came to weigh the blueberries and pay, I realized that credit card would not be accepted, and so Chris ended up driving about five minutes away to find the nearest ATM. When I explained this to the owner when I asked if she could hold my bucket of blueberries, she asked where Chris had gone, she looked at me as though I were crazy. Knowing we traveled all the way from New York to come here, she told me, “What?! No! That’s ridiculous – just for less than a kilo of blueberries?! That drive isn’t worth it!” And then she tried to tell me I could have almost a kilo of blueberries we picked for free!

“Ohmigosh — please, no, no, no!” I exclaimed to her, equally shocked by her generosity and kind gesture. “My husband already left to find an ATM. Plus, there is no way I am going to be the annoying American who stole blueberries from your farm!” She smiled at this.

While we waited for Chris to come back, we had some conversation, discussed the farm, her bed and breakfast right behind. She even entertained Kaia with puzzles and asking her about herself. It was really sweet, and I could just tell she genuinely enjoyed interacting with Kaia and must love kids. These are the types of interactions you tend to get overseas, when you’re not in the U.S., but you’re in small towns and in places where people are genuinely well meaning, warm, and kind hearted. New Zealanders/kiwis are known for their friendliness, and even though I didn’t take her up on her offer to get free blueberries, I truly appreciated the generosity and kindness she extended to us.

I always get a little sad when people are so distrustful. Of course I am old enough now to understand where those sentiments stem from. But in all the times I’ve traveled, 9.5 times out ten, I am greeted by warmth and kindness from total strangers. Traveling has made me more positive about the world even when things back home feel really like they are crumbling. These little moments are times I will always remember.