“Life is too important to be taken seriously” – Oscar Wilde

Its weird. I’m living in a place where nobody speaks the same language as me. I’m working and living with people that are at least 10 or 20 years older than me. And its weird that it’s not weird. Because really, they’re more kids than EHL students. They have it all figured out, they know what life is all about, and they don’t care. They’re laid back, I’ve never seen a stressed Bora Borian… and in the kitchen things can get pretty pressing. They laugh and joke about everything. Ok, maybe they’re not the most ambitious people ever, but I don’t blame them… they’re in paradise, what more could you want?

They don’t use the word ‘vous’ here. Its all ‘tu’. It makes no difference if you’ve known the person for 20 years or 20 seconds… it doesn’t matter if they’re your boss or your kid. That’s the kind of people they are… everybody’s equal, everybody’s welcome.

The other foreigners that live here have it too… I think it rubs off on you, or maybe this place attracts these kind of people. My sous chef just became a father… and he acts like a 7 year old, and its hilarious.

Hallelujah!

Today I made a great discovery. I discovered wrinkle-free washers. That’s right. It washes your clothes, and they come out- get this – without wrinkles. Its amazing… I don’t know where they go… one minute they’re there, and an hour later… no more. Its like a wrinkle black hole… it sucks them out of clothing. Imagine the possibilities… why stop at clothing? If it works with shirts, why not grandmothers?

Apparently washing machines aren’t very good at multitasking, cuz, yes, there are no wrinkles… but my clothes haven’t gotten any cleaner.

And in answer to your question nadja:



... and i found out where the board shorts flower comes from.

Kandinsky

Being a chef isn’t bad, no, its not bad at all. Besides being able to order around all your minions and wear the biggest, puffiest hat; you get to be at the end of every plate. What I’ve learned from here is that it doesn’t matter what your dish tastes like, but if it looks really fancy, then you can charge as much as you want for it.

The chef gets to do most of this decoration…and just watching him work is amazing. He’s like a painter… He’s got his palette of thin bread sticks, dried breadfruit, all kinds of leafs and spices, twizzly things, cinnamon sticks, and cool little things that look like stars. Anyways, when the dish is ready it goes to him, and he goes to work on it. He studies the plate, then, like some manic artist he dots it with curry powder, maybe makes some design with caramel sauce, inserts breadsticks into anything that can hold them, puts twizzly things on top of the food, dabs some seaweed…. And, voila: Its completely transformed.

Aah...

aaand heres another sunset photo, the sun sets at the back of the motu, unfortunately, cuz or else youd get great views of Mt. Otematu in the background.

Soufflé.

The chef did something very risky today… he left me alone at garde manger. Alone. Garde manger. Chef. Ok? Eek.

So this was my big chance to prove myself and yadda yadda. So I do my mise en place, there’s not much to do so I get a 2 hour break, come back for service, set up…

And it was great. I now see why people actually wanna do this for a living. Ok, mis en place ( cutting all the vegetables, preparing meats, making sauces) isn’t anything great, but its not bad either, it just takes a few hours, you talk to the other cooks… time doesn’t lag. Anyways, service is great. You get independence, you can organize the kitchen like you want, there’s nobody looking over your shoulder and there’s a lot more pressure on you. And that’s the fun part, especially when there’s 5 orders all at the same time and you’ve gotta rush to get them done quickly, but you’ve gotta make sure they’re perfect, good tasting, and great looking.

And it went alright. Sure, I under seasoned some things, and forgot the mis en place for the poissin cru, but that’s nothing a quick sprint to the fridge and a few hacks didn’t fix… and then it was over. And I want more.

Im a genius

Im a genius. sorry, but this time its true... take a look at this beauty:



man was i lucky to have this fisherman come by at sunset

Phuu.

Immmmmmm moooooving…. Up the food chain. That’s right… today I start garde manger. They moved me to the night restaurant… and man does the food look fancy. Its uuh… niveau cuisine? Something like that… mouse-sized portions of food that look really fancy with lots of things sticking out of it. Ahh yes, I’m just too eloquent (didn’t think I knew that one did you?). Basically I (and my supervisor, Marsel… who looks like that guy from the prince of bel air) do all the cold plates served at the restaurant.

So anyways, the real plus of garde manger is the schedule… I start work at 2pm every day and go on to 10… Its great, I skip out the hottest part of the day (and I get to work in a giant fridge) and the night, where theres nothing to do anyways. Soo… I said to myself, ok, I’ll get up early, do some jogging every morning, go swimming and then have free time to do whatever…

Uuh… no. That’s not the way it works. I set my alarm for 8am every morning… then 2-3 hours and 10 million ‘snoozes’ later, I drag, literally drag my body out of bed, run to the kitchen, frantically pour me some coffee and collapse in front of the tv from that great effort. So there’s my morning exercise.

shaaark

I was walking by the shore today and i saw this thing right off the beach... black tipped shark, it was about a meter or so long

Coconut eater!

Owen is one of the maitre d’hotel. Owen is also the gayest person I’ve ever met. What surprised me is that everyone here is completely ok with it. Homosexuality is accepted as a part of normal life, and nobody sees anything weird or different about it. The rest of the world should learn from these guys. Apparently in the ancient times Polynesians used to raise their eldest son as a girl… which…uuh…. Is just slightly weird.

Anyways, he’s funny. Both purposefully and unintentionally. He told one of our extras I was a porn star. Now she gives me weird looks. He’s also got this thing for coconuts (no pun intended [ok, maybe a little]) One day, in the middle of service he goes up to a tree, wrestles off a coconut, the grabs a huge butcher knife and starts assaulting this poor coconut until its splintered everywhere. Then he drinks it in one gulp, scoops out the insides, stuffs them in his mouth and continues serving. He comes into the kitchen now and occasionally hacks up our coconuts. Then of course there’s the little run he does when he burns toast which is just priceless. He’s the big party-er here, which sucks for him cuz there’s only 1 club on Bora and its only open Friday and Saturday… but Im told he does make good use of it.

Oooh…. What does this button do?

Ooh ooh… I saw a ray today… a huge ray, it was about as long as I am, and it was right on shore… the water must have been 30 cm deep, and it just glided along the floor… I followed it around for about 5 min, but then it was too fast for me and I lost it. I also saw the coolest little fish. At first I thought it was a piece of algae… but when I looked closer I noticed it was a little green fish with algae-like appendages sticking out everywhere and red dots on the end of them… like a mini monster from the deep.

In flight

aaaaaand here is a photo i took from the airplane... its a heart shaped island, or atoll, or however you call it...

I’ve just gotta.

Ahh, my god. I’m watching an interview with Bush on his inauguration day. There is only one word that can possibly describe him: Idiot. I’m not gonna start ranting, cuz it’ll go on forever, but really, my cat could be a better speaker than he is. He mumbles, he stutters, and I just love the long pauses with the blank look on his face when he searches for words… or maybe he’s trying to figure out what he’s talking about. Or maybe he’s just having a hard time reading off the screen…

And 52% of America voted for him… I mean… really, guys… where have you been for the past 4 years? It’s shameful.

Quoi?

They say I have a funny French accent, so they thought I was swiss.

:)

The cast

I met the catamaran captain today. Like everyone else, he’s French, but man has he done a lot with his life. Oh, by the way, val – our F&B manager’s from the same part as your dad... and he knows your hotel… small world, huh?

Anyways, this catamaran guy, he’s lived in Polynesia for the past 10 years, and not just in Bora, he’s been everywhere – Tahiti, Moorea, the Marquesas. When he left France 25 years ago he spent 10 years living and sailing around the Mediterranean, Then he packed up and did the west coast of Africa, then sailed around South America for a few years and finally got here. And he wants to go back to Europe touring the other side of the world. Now that is cool.

Mt. Otematu

Yay, more photos...This is the famous volcano; Mt. Otematu.. its taken from the beach on the side of my motu.

Arcobaleno

I heard English today. Proper American (oxymoron? I think not.) English. It was weird. I think I’m going crazy. French is ok for a silly language, (Muahahahaha) but hearing nothing but French for eternity (a week) is a bit much. I went into a dive shop looking for a mask and snorkel and this guy responded right away in English. I tried speaking some more French to him to see if I could fool him into switching languages; but the force was strong in this one, and he stood his ground. I ran out of French words and was forced to reply in English. That’ll be my final test - when I get him to speak French to me I’ll know I’ll have mastered it.

So anyways, I bought my mask and the chef picked me up (we’re good buddies me and he). Since we both had our day off he offered to take me on a tour of Vaitape - the main town on bora bora, which lasted about 30 sec since its 3 shops and a restaurant. Anyways, this chef - I wish I remembered his name - speaks no English whatsoever, so I can insult him all I want… except first I’d have to find something to insult… cuz really, he’s the coolest chef in the world. He’s a little man whose always nice to everyone and never raises his voice…. He’s married to a Tahitian and every time I see him he’s cleaning the kitchen… dont ask why, Im still trying to figure that out myself. Anyways, he was called back to work cuz the sous chef is having a baby, and a bunch of other people didn’t show up to work. So he took me back to the hotel and I went snorkeling.

First of all, you don’t really need a snorkel in Bora Bora… all you’ve gotta do is wade into the water and look down, and you see perfectly fine… but it looks more like youre trying to find a lost watch than snorkeling. SO, I decided to do the cool thing and get geared up. I found a pair of flippers in my back yard that are about 4 sizes too small and set off to the beach. Next to the beach the coral sucks. Its all bleached and ugly… but the fish… whoa. There’s millions of the tiniest fish in a rainbow of colors… there’s blue, green, yellow, black, orange, red, striped, spotted, purple zigzag checkers with tiny fluorescent disco lights… everything.

Go a bit offshore and you find bigger fish, just as colorful… and they’re not scared of you. If you float with them for a minute and let them get used to you then they’ll just swim all around you as if you weren’t even there. And randomly scattered on the bleached coral are little shells filled with neon blue green thingys that retract into the shells when you get near… I’ve gotta get a photo of those. I spent 3 hours in the water. My fingers were pruned beyond recognition and I couldn’t feel my feet anymore, but it was worth it.

La Vie a

My boss described them as “R. RrrrrrRRrrrrr; ([grunt]) RRRRR, rr-r.” and he’s pretty much right. They’re great. That’s one of the things that’s impressed me the most of this place - the people. They’re the kindest, friendliest, most gentle people on earth. Lots of them are big; and I mean big. Not fat, just big. If you just saw them you’d be intimidated like hell; it’s a land full of hulks… minus the green and the torn pants. So even thought they could easily kick your ass with their pinky; they wouldn’t ever consider it. Their attitude, their culture is sharing – if something is theirs then its yours too. I’ve never seen people more accepting, more friendly and ready to joke around with you than the Polynesians. And they don’t look for anything in return; they’re just genuinely like that. They’ve known me for less than a week and they’ve all made me feel completely at home.

Medium-rare.

I had my face grilled today. I know what you’re thinking: ‘what, so I’m supposed to believe that he got smacked with a flaming grill going at 200 mph and got charred beyond recognition?’ Yes. They call me grill boy… I now fight crime for a living and scare pigeons in my spare time.

My house

this is the living room and kitchen area of me bungalow which i might soon be sharing with the aircon repairman here



and that is my garden and a random cat.

Photos!

ok, im trying something weird here, so it might not work... but im hoping.


This is the beach on the south of the island that i go to the most... so pretty much every day. theres hardly anyone ever there, and its got good snorkelling



and this photo is the beach a little bit further from the frist one, still on the island but its shallower

Ia Orana

First day of work today… Everyone gets their speeches… I thought ‘oh, its so nice of them to take some time to tell me how things are and bla’ but they like it… they love it. It makes them feel important, wise, sage, a mage in a cage with a rage like a page. One’s good, but one’s all you need. So I was supposed to start at 9am… after the tours and speeches it was more like 10:30. I start working at the miki miki. The lunch restaurant. I’m appointed to Nadine- a Polynesian that has an uncanny. That’s right, an uncanny. She also looks like Mrs. Dickinson in some strange way.

Its great, She’s the only one that works at that restaurant, and that’s the only restaurant that’s open at lunch. Its low season now, so we had about 25 or 30 people. But man was it a good day. They’ve got stuff like burgers, salads, steak, lots of fish… I’d say I learned to make about 80% of them dishes yesterday. I expected to be put in a corner and told to cut poatotes and clean the ceiling… but no, from the first day I cook, I season, and I dress the plates. Damn.

When you come to a fork in the road, head for the bush.

Did I mention that Bora Bora was beautiful? I woke up this morning at 5 am. For once I was thankful for jetlag. I walked out on the empty beach and sat. That sunrise lasted an hour… The sun came up right behind Mt. Otemanu and wow. I’ll post a next time I catch the sunrise. By then it was 6, so I decided to explore the proterty a bit… My hotel’s on a motu that encircles the main island of Bora Bora, and man my motu is big. I started walking towards the helipad, thinking I’d take a look at it then get back to my fare (Tahitian for bungalow). Anyways, I never did find that helipad, but I found better… the trash dump. Yep, theres a big sign towards the back saying ‘end of property, no trespassing’ So naturally, I ignored it and continued walking… ok, its not a horrible trash dump… its just a clearing, maybe 10m2 where they burn the trash… still, baaad for mr. environment. I guess they don’t have much other choice though.

Anyways, at the dump theres a few dirt paths going in different directions, so I picked a random one going left. On the first day here I asked the HR lady if you can go around the island, she said no. That lots of it was private property and they had dogs. HA. So the whole time I walked along the path I couldn’t stop thinking of a big gruff Polynesian guy blowing me to bits with his shotgun and then feeding me to his dog. But, brave (smart, sexy, etc…) explorer that I am, I kept on walking. And then I reached a beach. Picture a square. With rounded edges and a few extra lines here and there…Then take a spatula and beat it on one side. That’s pretty much what my island looks like. The hotel’s on the south- east bit. The beach Im talking about is on the southern tip. So anyways, I found this beach, which is all very nice and dandy, and then I just kept walking east, trying to see how far I could go before my stomach was pumped full of lead. On my way I met a couple of fishermen setting out for the day, their ‘ferocious’ dogs ran up to me and sniffed my crotch. The fisherman stared. And apparently bora borian dogs don’t know how to play fetch.

Most of the island is deserted, there are 3 fishermen’s houses on the south-ish side, then the northwestern bit is completely deserted… its great, I walked for 20 min without seeing anyone… no man made objects, nothing. I picked up a feisty hermit crab who kept on coming out of his shell to pinch my fingers… sure, if somebody picked up and shook my home I’d be pretty pissed, but what happened to being afraid?

Its crazy all the stuff you see from shore. Just 10 cm off the beach there’s coral, all kinds of fish… I even saw two baby eels not more than a meter off the shore. But my favorite part of the island is the north. Here there’s 5 or 6 families living on the shore. One of them raises crabs in a huge cage right on the beach… another had a corrugated tin pigsty right on the beach, 3 pigs were sleeping on their mud separated from the sea only by thin sheet metal. One woman had a high table set up right on the water with a net where she was washing her breakfast dishes. Three naked children were crouched together playing a game near a palm tree. Welcome to paradise.

I MADE IT

I MADE IT!! Oh my god… I made it. I flew for 30 hours exactly to the other side of the earth, got paralyzing arthritis from my cramped seat and missed two flights… but I finally made it.

IT would be your best dream multiplied by the biggest number EVER (a gabillion zillion?). IT is paradise. On earth. But better. IT is the best thing in the world. IT is… ok, enough. I’m talking about Bora Bora.

You might be thinking, Bora what? And I might smack you. So don’t go there. Just to remind you where bora bora is, however, I have drawn this very helpful diagram pinpointing its exact location.


0 <= Bora bora Rest of the world => O



There, now that that’s all cleared up I can start telling you how great it is all over again. But first… I’ve gotta vent my tortures of my flight and the such. So it all starts in Sri Lanka, where at 3:30 am I board my flight, get into the crappy aisle seat (Ooh.. never knew it was spelled like that), which is what I asked for, but it doesn’t mean I can’t complain about it. That flight was pretty good actually… only 10 hrs to Zurich, 5 hours in that airport and 1 more to Geneva. I rested there for 2 days chez Gabi… who gave me a great tour of Geneva while I was getting frostbite cuz stupid thin sweaters suck. Thank you and thanks to your family, it really was lots of fun, and remember to email me the Mont blanc photos! I also met Adrian and Val there… who shared horror stories from their internships… oh joy.

And Theeen… I left Geneva on Sunday morning… took the TGV to Paris without much GV. Maybe the special rocket boosters were broken or something. In Paris the very helpful bus drivers pointed me in 7 different directions for the airport shuttles, and of course, the last one I checked was right… I talked to a cool Moroccan baggage handler while waiting for the bus about very important things like the weather and cheekbones. THEN, when I got to the plane the hell started.

I hate window seats. I hate aisle seats. I hate everything in-between. Lets do some geometry… this is me lengthwise: ______________________ this is the amount of legroom I get: _ IT IS PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO FIT MOI INTO: _ . So for most of the flight, I sat like this: &

I had no idea how long the flight was gonna be. Could be 6 hours, could be 42… no idea. So I just sat in my now-patented ‘pretzel’ position and waited. Whats worse is that I couldn’t ask my seat neighbor cuz I couldn’t speak French. That’s right, She wanted me to switch seats with her husband so he could sit near her… he had a middle seat. I hate middle seats. Youre stuck but you don’t get a view or extra leg space of the aisle. So, instead of telling her in French that I would rather stay by the window so that I could rest my head against the side, I looked at her blankly and started speaking English. She got freaked out and left me alone. Don’t really know why I did that… but as its commonly known (Pooja…) guys do stupid things.

So I pretzeld for 12 hours and then we got off in Los Angeles… hmm… didn’t know it was stopping there, but whatever. Now the Americans, ingenious bunch that we are, decided that any plane which even touches the air of the states (translation: has a stopover) must have everyone get out, go through customs, and get back on the plane. Ok. So we get off… walk to customs in the rain (ok, so it was 2 meters) and sit. We sit in line for an hour… the computers are broken. In the whole airport. Well that’s just peachy. We finally clear customs, and then they tell us to retrace our steps and get back on the plane. We’re an hour late, 8 hrs later we get to Tahiti… I get my bag. This is the only place in the world where you have to stand in line in the ‘nothing to declare’ side. So I stand… time passes (it does that sometimes) my flight’s at 8:30. Its 8:20… too late.

Now THIS was the absolute worst bit… all the other flights on that day were full… I was tired, sore, and badly needed a shower. So I was waitlisted for the 9am flight… but everybody showed up… so then I was put on standby for the 11:15 flight… after that I’d have to spend the night in Tahiti… I tried calling the hotel to tell them… outgoing calls were blocked. So I sat there… nerve racked and badly having to pee for 2 hours… then FINALLY the lady called my name and told me theres a space on the flight…

…and then I arrive. Tired, sweaty, cramped… I didn’t care. I finally figured out what bora bora looked like – its an exact replica of those volcanic islands that all the bad guys in movies live in! I’ll post a pic soon… But its about as real as those cartoons… its too perfect. I still don’t believe it… I can’t believe that I’m here… Can’t believe that something so impressively beautiful actually exists… The water’s a million different shades of the color blue. Not just one. You look up and there’s these two jagged peaks surrounded by mystical clouds stare at you.

The hotel’s great… its got big grounds, a great pool and nice beach. Check it out on www.pearlresorts.com/bora/main.asp But the best part is my accommodation… I’m an intern… so I figure I get the crappiest quarters. Say a small dark room, a mattress with springs coming out of it, cockroaches and rats that eat bits of me while I sleep… that sort of stuff. But man, was I surprised. I get a house. A house. 3 bedrooms, kitchen, living room, TV, stereo, desk, porch and garden. It’s the friggin Taj. I’ve even got aircon… Its supposedly the best staff housing in Polynesia, and I believe it. I’m in paradise.