I took the day off yesterday and wandered around Chinatown, attempting to support as many local businesses that I could (which means, as much as I could carry in my reusable cloth bags). I visited a third generation tofu, grass jelly, and rice cake shop, a bakery that specializes in Portuguese-style egg tarts, another that has three locations and is famous for their cha siu bao (Chinese barbecued pork buns, baked), coconut buns, and pineapple buns. The location I go to has temporarily closed during COVID-19, so I went across to the more “real” side of Chinatown to their second location that was still open. I usually like to get their taro bun with a pineapple top, but alas, they are not making them at this time. I purchased vegetables from my usual Hong Kong Supermarket and also from a corner street vendor at Grand and Chrystie. And while exiting the train to start my wandering, I happened to run into the zongzi / joong lady, the one I’d read about online: she was famous for making multiple times of steamed Chinese tamales, from the Cantonese kind I grew up with to Tainan style in Taiwan, using pork belly and mushrooms, to the sweet ones further north in China. I purchased two Cantonese style and two Tainan style to store in my freezer for future eating; I was going home with a LOT of stuff to eat for the next few days.

Chris likes to make fun of me about literally everything, but he especially loves to make fun of me for my love of Asian food and goods, of my excitement whenever we visit Chinatown, whether that’s in Manhattan, Flushing, or anywhere else. It’s not really a novelty for me because I grew up eating a lot of these things, but I still love to explore flavors and styles outside of the Cantonese stuff I grew up with. China is a big-ass country; there’s no way I’d be familiar with everything food-wise that existed.

But that’s the thing: shopping in Chinatown or buying Asian foods and goods is just a way of life for so many people in this city and around the world. It’s not a novelty like it is for so many non-Asians. These businesses need us to frequent their businesses, buy their goods, and tip them so that they can survive. During the last five months, I’ve been worried about what Chinatown will be like after quarantine has officially ended. Chinatown was seeking a decline in clientele about six weeks before the shutdown officially took place in New York City due to anti-Asian, “China virus,” “kung flu” racist sentiment. People have been worried about the restaurant / hospitality business in general; frankly, I am more worried about local, family-run Asian businesses because most of these places in Chinatown run on razor thin margins and count on high volume; their prices are relatively cheap, which means they really don’t take much home (unlike more Western businesses, ahem). A lot of businesses have already closed permanently. The original rice noodle/tofu place I used to go to has closed forever, so I had to find a new one. But what if one day, these businesses are all shut down and all I can find in Chinatown are hipster matcha places or Asian-fusion noodles?

I went to inspect our apple cider vinegar traps to see at least 1-3 dead fruit flies floating in each of my shallow baths. I was quite self-satisfied, if I do say so myself. Though I hope that more will be attracted and die from my traps, I’m still concerned that more eggs may hatch in the coming days. And what’s even more weird: I feel like the fruit flies keep flying into the fridge.. and eventually dying from the cold. So far, I’ve already removed six dead fruit flies in the fridge and freezer. They come for the fruit in the fridge, and then they die. Hmmmm. That is like their version of suicide – entering the fridge and freezing to death.

There are still more, though. I’ve already killed eight while sitting by the window. This is definitely war time.

As the weather has been getting warmer, I’ve wanted some fresh air in the apartment, so during the day, I’ve been leaving the windows in the bathroom and kitchen open. While it’s been nice to have air coming in that is not just from our air conditioner, unfortunately, this has resulted in fruit flies coming into the apartment… and likely laying eggs and having babies spawn. I’d kill one or two, thinking my job was done. But no: there were more, and smaller ones randomly showing up in the bedroom, kitchen, and living area. They were definitely procreating, and this was not a good sign. I immediately looked up home remedies for this and found that the easiest ones for us would be to create apple cider-sugar-soap baths in shallow cups and bowls, place them in each room, and wait for the scent of the apple cider vinegar to attract them. Then, they’d dip themselves in for a drink, and BAM! They’d drown to death. I prepared these and laid out six bowls across the apartment. The next option is to leave a little bit of wine in the bottom of a wine bottle and let them come in, drink, and also drown. We haven’t opened a bottle of wine yet this week, but intend to do so, not just to enjoy, but also to commit fruit fly genocide on these little twits.

Opening the windows in our apartment: good in theory, bad in practice.

During our trip out to Jackson Heights, Queens, yesterday, we also picked up a few more mini Ataulfo mangoes from an Indian grocery store. While Haitian mangoes were being sold, we decided we didn’t like them as much since they were more stringy and tart than the Ataulfo ones, so we passed on those. If you can believe it, we got six mini Ataulfo mangoes for just $2 – that’s crazy cheap! They were on the ripe side, though, so I immediately had to cut them all today, resulting in six plus two of the regular sized Ataulfo mangoes I got during the mango sale at Whole Foods. This apartment is just swimming in mangoes. I’m looking for different desserts to use them in so that we don’t end up having to eat four whole ones each per day. No-churn mango ice cream looks like a good and easy option that I’ll test out this week.

Today, we ventured out of Manhattan for the first time since quarantine began in early March. We took the train to Jackson Heights, Queens, and loaded up on delicious, cheap groceries and produce from a couple of Indian/Pakistani markets, picked up a box of Indian sweets, stopped by a Colombian bakery and bought some pan de bono (cheese bread), and attempted (but failed) to eat at one of the outside dining tables of our favorite dosa place. They had only two tables available, and they had a steady stream of people trying to eat there. Plus, the service looked quite slow. All of the outdoor tables and chairs that are normally outside the train station were gone, likely because of COVID-19, and so we ended up having to go back to Manhattan to find a spot for outdoor dining. It was still good to leave the borough and see life elsewhere, though. I miss the hustle and bustle of wandering around neighborhoods in Queens. I also miss the variety of produce and spices, the diversity of the clientele, plus the cheap prices.

I perked up for a bit, especially when I saw a sign for Pakistani mangoes at one of the markets. Unfortunately, a worker said that they wouldn’t be getting their delivery from Pakistan until next week, so we came just a week too early. I purchased some Haitian mangoes from a street vendor here on the Upper West Side this past week, and unfortunately, they just weren’t as sweet or delicious as the Ataulfo mangoes we normally get. Plus, they were quite stringy, which I strongly dislike.

Because of COVID-19 descending upon us and forcing us to socially distance, all of our usual activities, from dining out, hanging out with friends, exploring different neighborhoods, going to theater, and travel have come to an abrupt halt. With all this extra time on my hands, not only am I cooking, filming, and video editing more, but I’m also doing a lot more reading. Given the recent instances of racial injustice in the last few weeks along with the protests and ongoing conversations of racial injustice at work, I thought it would be a fitting time to bring Ibram X. Kendi’s book How to be an Anti-Racist to the top of my list. I finished reading that a few days ago on my Kindle. To balance all these serious topics that require a lot of re-reading and contemplation, I nestled Emily St. John Mandel’s The Glass Hotel mystery/drama novel in here, especially since it has unlimited borrows on the Libby app via the New York Public Library since it’s the Book of the Month. It’s been good to get absorbed into a fun novel that has a dramatic story line that doesn’t require a lot of self-introspection. But on my walks, I’ve saved Robin DiAngelo’s White Fragility for listening.

One of the things I had to noodle over for a while, which I guess I have not been very analytical in breaking down, is that she suggests that the current day denial that racism exists, the insistence that we live in a “color-blind” world where people “do not see color,” actually originates from Martin Luther King, Jr.’s famous “I Have a Dream” speech, in which he said that he hoped that one day, he and his children could live in world where they could be judged for their actions and not based on the color of their skin. White people basically took this part of his speech, twisted it, and transformed it into, “I no longer see color. Therefore, I am not racist and cannot be accused of being racist.” Wow, that was an incredible and screwed up interpretation and turn of events! These same people carry “white fragility” and insist that the people who bring up race or talk about race “think everything is about race, the people who bring up race “are actually the ones who are racist.”

So, I didn’t know MLK, and I obviously never had a conversation with him, but I have a strong feeling that he didn’t advocate for people lying to themselves and the world that they are colorblind and thus BLIND to the differences of people and do not understand socialization. Nor do I think he advocated for the denial of racism or inequality existing. Why are people so terrible?

As of last month, I officially finished editing and uploading all my travel videos through Indonesia. Looking back, I never thought I’d get them all done by May given work and other work and personal travel, but with COVID-19 taking away all “normal” life, including socializing and travel, I’ve had a lot more time to be on a computer editing and producing more material for my YouTube channel. I still have a decent backlog of cooking videos I’ve filmed before and during this period, but other than that, we have no travel content to work with anymore. The San Francisco burrito comparison video was really the last “not here in New York or in my kitchen” video, and we uploaded that on Friday.

So we started with a new type of video, which is about takeout you can get right here in New York. We chose one of our favorite and much loved neighborhood spots, Pure Thai Cookhouse, and filmed the takeout we got from there and what you can expect it to taste like. Is this going to be the future of “travel and eating” videos — filming takeaway food we’re eating at home? When will be we able to really eat out again… travel again?

“What are we going to do this weekend?” Chris asked aloud. It was more a rhetorical question because literally every single weekend since shelter-in-place began, we’ve been doing the exact same things: cooking, cleaning, watching different shows/movies on Netflix/Showtime/HBO/YouTube, reading, shooting and editing videos, taking walks, buying groceries. The most exciting thing that ever happens on the weekends now is if we have a video call with a friend or family member, or if our handyman decides to come buy for a drink if he’s free.

I realized that given how poorly the federal government has handled COVID-19 that for the very first time, our lives, as in our two lives, have been directly impacted by the the idiot in the White House. President Dipshit has done a lot of terrible things over the course of the last 3.5 years, but our lives were never directly impacted. Our ability to work, travel, live our usual lives, has never been impacted.. until now. First, he denied the virus was an issue. Then, he constantly called it the “Chinese virus” and blamed China. Then, he encouraged people to NOT shelter in place and to ignore their state governments. The entire country was a complete cluster, a laughing stock of the world. If our government actually had a handle of this virus and handled it correctly, perhaps we’d actually be able to enter a travel bubble with other countries. But nope. The entire world sees our country has dirty and has travel bans for everyone with a U.S. passport. Thanks, President Dipshit, for ruining our ability to travel and be free.

This past week, I started reading Ibram X. Kendi’s How to be an Antiracist. It’s required a lot of focus, a lot of re-reading of sentences and paragraphs to give myself time to absorb and take in information, and a lot of stopping to think. What Kendi makes clear throughout the first 40 percent of the book that I’ve gotten through is that racism is something that is learned, taught to us by everyone from our parents, families, friends, textbooks, schools, media — you name it, and they’re teaching racism to you in some shape or form. Some people think that it’s impossible for a Black or Asian or other “person of color” to be racist, and this could not be further from the truth. Racism against anyone is possible by anyone. Black people can be racist against White people. Asian people can be racist against Latinx people. Darker skinned Latinx people can be racist against lighter skinned Latinx people, and Black people can be racist against Black people. But I think one of the concepts he points out in the book that really made me think was that the term “racist” is oftentimes seen as a pejorative word rather than a descriptive word, and that is actually part of the problem. Someone who is striving to be an antiracist can say or do a racist thing, but that does not necessarily make the person racist because they are (we’d hope) still learning, still evolving). Being racist vs. antiracist is not static. We can evolve and change for the better (sadly, for the worst). So, we should be able to accept “racist” as a descriptive word for a specific action or statement said by an individual and not just pejoratively write them off as a “racist” forever and always.

That sounds like a growth mindset, right?

I took a walk around the Upper West Side late afternoon yesterday, which was the first official day that low-risk businesses could begin reopening. This meant that a number of coffee shops and Starbucks locations had reopened, even allowing a handful of customers inside their stores depending on the space. Restaurants that had previously been closed have reopened for takeout and delivery. Even a handful of clothing shops along Columbus Avenue have reopened, along with a stationery store on Broadway. There was far more life at 72nd and Broadway, considered the central hub, of the Upper West Side, than I’d seen in months. Street performers were scattered throughout. A random man collecting donations had about a dozen different parakeets, cockatiels, and lovebirds sitting around him, along with two bunnies in the center, just steps away from the Upper West Side Trader Joe’s. It actually feels like we’re slowly but surely getting back to regular street and sidewalk traffic.

It still felt weird, though. We’re not at ideal testing levels. There’s tension all around not just because of COVID-19, but because of police brutality, racial injustice, and the protests that we’ve seen around the world in the last two weeks. My mind and even my body are just exhausted. Walking only about 30 blocks, I felt so drained afterwards. The world is just so tiring, and our nation’s leadership is only exacerbating the problems that exist instead of offering comfort or tangible solutions. This is 2020.