Today I was swaddled in comforting languages I can't comprehend.
First I sang in Hawaiian.
People were speaking Japanese (and listening to classic 1970's funk) at the fish market.
At Los New Friends, all of the music was in Spanish.
And when I started cooking, I found a radio dj spinning Chinese music, bird songs and Conjunto.
The next dj was playing two hours of bluegrass songs about coal mining. I sauteed while playing along on my uke, and was reminded of the time when I first moved to the college town, heard independent radio, and fell in love with a set of bluegrass songs about black lung disease. I bought the black lung song album but almost immediately went back to listening to Gang of Four.
Tonight's a mish-mash: pickled lotus root, beet and carrot pasta, kabocha squash simmered in dashi, and Li Hing Mui marshmallows. A personal creation conceived of on the drive back home from civilization.
While I was writing this the pasta boiled over...oh well.