Oh, I see! moments
Travel Cultures Language

Ears Wide Open: The OIC Soundscapes Challenge

by Meredith Mullins on October 27, 2020

What do you see, smell, taste, feel . . . and hear in this bustling street?
© Meredith Mullins

Turn Up the Sound on Your Travel Adventures

Take a moment. Close your eyes. What do you hear?

Silence? Auditory stimuli that provide clues to where you are? Sounds that might remain in your sense memory for some time to come?

Especially when we travel, all our senses are alive. We see. We smell. We touch. We taste. We hear.

Sights, smells, and a symphony of baa’s.
© Meredith Mullins

Travel adventures are enhanced when we are multisensory. Oh, I see. Soundscapes can expand our experience exponentially.

Often, one or more or our senses registers a memory. The vision of the Parthenon in the Athens moonlight or a camel fair in the dusty desert. The smell of French boulangeries as the early morning baguettes are baking. The warmth of the sand on a Thai beach or the humidity of an Amazon jungle. That jalapeño in Mexico City that was just two degrees too hot.

Memories of moaning camels in the dust
© Meredith Mullins

When you make sound a sense priority, what travel soundscapes come to mind from your past wanderings?

Sound Memories

Do you remember sounds as vividly as sights, tastes, and smells?

  • The mystical call to prayer in Islamic countries—all the more beautiful when mosques at varying distances add point and counterpoint to the soundscape.

If video does not display, watch it here.

  • The multilayered orchestra of voices, punctuated by a chorus of sellers and buyers, in just about any street market in the world.

If audio does not display, listen here.

  • Transportation noises, such as the rhythmic metal-on-metal clink of train wheels on the tracks, the woeful cruise ship horn warning of departure, or the Formula 1 engine of a Bangkok tuk-tuk.

If audio does not display, listen here.

There are also the comforting sounds of home—familiar everyday sounds in your neighborhood.

For me, in Paris, that means our friendly accordionist playing on a bridge over the Seine, the clip clop of the Republican Guard horses on cobblestone streets, and the annoying test siren on the first Wednesday of every month that, even when expected, strikes fear in my soul.

The sound of horse hooves on cobblestone
© Meredith Mullins

Putting Your Ears to the Test

Sounds can be elusive—hard to identify or describe—especially without the benefit of the other senses.

OIC Moments offers below a test of world soundscapes. What does each remind you of? Can you identify the sound? Can you identify the continent? The country? Or maybe even the specific place?  Have you heard this sound before? Just how world-savvy are your ears? (Spoiler alert: These are not that easy.)

The Soundscapes Challenge

Soundscape #1

 

 

Soundscape #2

 

 

Soundscape #3

 

 

Soundscape #4

 

 

Soundscape #5

 

 

Soundscape #6

 

 

Soundscape #7

 

We invite you to make your best guesses on the OIC Moments Facebook Post announcing this blog post, that we’ll be monitoring to let you know how you did.

See how your travel adventures and your sound savvy ears compare with the listening skills of other members of the OIC community. Good luck!

Answers  to the Soundscapes Challenge can he found here.

Thank you to World Sounds and Kevin Barnett for these worldwide sounds. 

In the Kitchen with OIC: Peruvian Cuisine

by Joyce McGreevy on October 20, 2020

Chef Rodrigo Fernandini of Chiclayo, Peru, shares his passion for Peruvian cuisine and culture, as featured on “In the Kitchen with OIC.” Image © Rodrigo Fernandini)

Chef Rodrigo Fernandini grew up in Chiclayo, capital of Peruvian gastronomy.
© Rodrigo Fernandini

What’s on Chef Fernandini’s Menu?  Peruvian Culture!

In California, the cooking class was starting on Zoom. In Oregon, I hesitated. On the one hand, I was eager to explore Peruvian cuisine for “In the Kitchen with OIC,” our newest recurring feature. On the other hand, I missed travel, open-air markets, rolling up my sleeves in foreign kitchens. I missed food tours, following local experts along unfamiliar streets.

I wanted real.

Peru was on my 2020 itinerary. Instead, I was exploring the culture of my studio apartment. OK, fine. I’d try Chef Fernandini’s online cooking class. As I logged on, I sighed. Would it be just another Zoom meeting?

It . . . was . . . exhilarating! A kinesthetic thrill that had us up and moving, prepping, stirring, tasting, listening, and laughing with fellow classmates. All while the smoky, sweet heat and fragrance of aji panca and rocoto peppers, plantains, avocado oil, and cumin transformed our scattered kitchens into a shared experience of Peru. That was real.

Screen, what screen? It felt like we were in Fernandini’s kitchen.  Oh, I see: When you can’t travel to Peru, invite Peruvian food and culture home to you.

Rocoto chile peppers are a staple of Peruvian cuisine and culture, as featured on “In the Kitchen with OIC.” (Image © McKay Savage)

Tree-grown Andean rocoto is gaining popularity with U.S. chile pepper fans.
© McKay Savage, CC BY 2.0 Commons

Home Cooking, Chiclayo Style

His culinary journey began when Fernandini was four years old. This was in Pimentel, the beach district of Chiclayo, northern Peru. He recalls running into the kitchen, drawn by the aromas of garlic, peppers, and onions.

“I would put my whole face beside the pot, take a deep breath, and ask, ‘Oh, Mamá what is that smell? It’s so good!’ ” He also loved home-cooked seafood. Mamá got to the market as the morning’s catch came in.

Reed boats, linked to Chiclayo’s fishing and culinary traditions, evoke Peruvian cuisine and culture. (image © xeni4ka/ iStock)

Traditional fishing boats, caballitos de totora, “little horses made of tortora reed,”
are icons of coastal Peru.
© xeni4ka/ iStock

Regional ingredients whetted Fernandini’s appetite for cooking and stirred pride in his culture.  So where is the starting point for an outsider? How to approach the rich context of Peruvian cuisine?

“Begin with ceviche.”  So central is this dish to Peru’s culinary culture that it has its own national holiday on June 28.

Some might ask, What’s to explore? It’s marinated fish, you love it or hate it, end of story. In fact, it’s an early chapter in a rich culinary narrative.

Peruvian Fish Tales

Over 2,000 years ago, the indigenous Moche cured fish in tumbo, banana passionfruit juice. Later, the Incas marinated fish in chicha, fermented corn beverage. In the 1500s, the Spanish brought lime—and conquest.

Recipes for ceviche illuminate Peru’s costa, sierra y selva—its coast, mountains, and jungle—where 80 climates support biodiversity. For example, says Fernandini, in the mountains, ceviche is  made with trout and rocoto.

Mountain ceviche by Chef Rodrigo Fernandini innovates on the regional culinary traditions and cuisine in Peruvian culture. (Image © Rodrigo Fernandini)

“Peruvian Andes trout and rocoto are inseparable,” says Fernandini.
His mountain ceviche also features chicharrón (fried pork belly) and ginger garlic oil.
© Rodrigo Fernandini

In the jungle, ceviche is made with paiche, an Amazonian fish, prehistoric in origin and weighing up to 400 pounds.

Jungle ceviche with cumu cumu berries, by Chef Rodrigo Fernandini, showcases Peruvian cuisine and culture. (Image © Rodrigo Fernandini)

The rosy pink of Fernandini’s jungle ceviche comes from camu camu berries.
© Rodrigo Fernandini

The Runway or the Rush?

After high school, a lucrative career in modeling beckoned. Fernandini soon garnered international acclaim, including as runner-up in the Mr. World competition. But what he wanted was to cook. Creating an all-new resume that was long on passion and short on skills, he went to restaurant after restaurant offering to work for free.

Eventually, someone said yes.

“Wow! The rush! The adrenaline! I was supposed to be there four hours, but I stayed for eleven.”

Staff dismissed Fernandini’s enthusiasm as first-day excitement, but three months later and on the verge of going broke, he was still saying “I love this. I want to keep going!”

The Sound of One Herb Snapping

Fernandini attained a coveted spot at Le Cordon Bleu in Lima, then the renowned cooking academy’s only location in South America. For three years, he rode a whirlwind of studying, cooking, and staging—working for free—in Lima’s top restaurants.

Then came tests, like identifying ingredients while blindfolded. Could you tell cinnamon by the sound it makes when snapped? Could you distinguish black and green pepper by texture?  Chef Fernandini can.

Students were also expected to write monographs—by hand. Never one to resist a challenge, Fernandini researched the influence of Japan on Peruvian cuisine.

This was no mere fusion, a modern term for the intentional layering of unexpected flavors. For 500 years, people had migrated to Peru, from Spain, Africa, China, Japan, Italy and the Middle East, bringing long-standing traditions and slowly learning each other’s culinary language.

Pastel de acelga, chard tart, exemplifies the Italian influence on Peruvian cuisine and culture. (Image © Luis Felipe Rios/ iStock)

Pastel de acelga (chard tart), a staple of bakeries in Lima, Peru,
originated as erbazzone in Italy. 
Luis Felipe Rios/ iStock

Chaufa de mariscos, rice with seafood, is emblematic of widespread Cantonese influence on Peruvian cuisine and culture. (Image © Edgar D. Pons/ iStock)

Chaufa de mariscos, seafood with rice, reflects
Cantonese China’s widespread influence on Peru.
Christian Vinces/iStock

Carapulcra, a hearty stew, combines Spanish, African, and Peruvian cuisine and innovates on Peruvian culture. (Image © Edgar D. Pons/ iStock)

Carapulcra, a hearty stew with dried potatoes and peanuts,
combines indigenous, Spanish, and African traditions. 
Edgar D. Pons/iStock

“Land of the Rising Sun” Meets “Land of Abundance”

After Peru won independence from Spain in 1821, Japanese immigrants arrived to work in agriculture, trade, and restaurants. Japanese chefs shared their love of seafood, subtle flavors, and care in handling ingredients.

This changed the way Peruvians ate, including national dishes like ceviche. Marination times shortened, ingredient options expanded. Nikkei, the melding of Japanese and Peruvian ingredients, traditions, and techniques, was born.

“We started to respect and understand the freshness and texture of just-caught fish.” Fernandini’s inspired take on coastal ceviche features halibut, yellow chili, caviar, sweet potato, and “tiger’s milk,” Peru’s classic citrus marinade.

Coastal ceviche by Chef Rodrigo Fernandini, combines traditional and contemporary aspects of Peruvian cuisine and culture. (Image © Rodrigo Fernandini)

Chulpi (toasted corn) and yellow chili create culinary gold
in Fernandini’s coastal ceviche.
© Rodrigo Fernandini

Fernandini gives the impression that visiting Peru without eating at a Japanese-influenced restaurant would be tantamount to bypassing Machu Picchu. He cites Maido in Lima, ranked #10 among world’s best restaurants—“utterly splendid!”—and speaks of opening a Peruvian sushi restaurant someday.

Suddenly, my list of future favorite foods is much longer.

A Cultural Mission

Fernandini has been on a mission to delight American palates ever since moving to the USA. Initially, he faced stereotypes about Peruvian food: “It’s so greasy, so heavy!”

This was all the more surprising since Novoandina, New Andean cuisine, had gone global by the 1980s, making grains like quinoa, herbs like huacatay, and a wealth of recipes available to home cooks everywhere.

“I said, we have to do something about this!”

Chef Rodrigo Fernandini, shown in his pop-up restaurant Ayllu, is on a mission to share the wide range of Peruvian cuisine and culture. (Image © Rodrigo Fernandini)

Rodrigo’s pop-up restaurant, Ayllu. Demand turned the monthly event
into sold-out double seatings, week after week, for years.
© Rodrigo Fernandini

By then, he was working at Michelin-starred restaurants and being mentored by chefs like the Four Seasons’ Jayson Poe. During time off, Rodrigo cooked even more, spending months planning a five-course menu for the launch of a pop-up restaurant.

Two people attended.

When a partner suggested canceling, Rodrigo said, “No way. We have to respect those two people and make it happen.”

The two diners hired Rodrigo to cater dinner for 30. Soon he was juggling full-time work with booming demand for the pop-up. After years of slogging and saving, he opened his own restaurant, Jora.

The logo of Jora, Chef Rodrigo Fernandini’s casual dining spot in San Jose, California, evokes his mission to share Peruvian cuisine and culture. (Image © Rodrigo Fernandini)

In San Jose, California, Jora applies classical technique
to a casual Peruvian menu. 
© Rodrigo Fernandini

It was a dream come true. It was also December 2019. As Jora was hitting its stride, Covid was shutting down restaurants.

“Hard times, but I’m a warrior,” says Fernandini. “Recently we reopened for outdoor dining, take-out, delivery. I’m also doing the cooking class with ChefsFeed.com. I really like teaching.”

Chef Rodrigo Fernandini shown on a computer screen as he speaks on Zoom about Peruvian cuisine and culture in his online cooking class. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

“Live feed” gains new meaning when your kitchen becomes Chef Fernandini’s classroom.
© Joyce McGreevy

“Food brings people to the table to enjoy, and as you’re eating, you’re sharing your culture. Whatever I cook, I want to deliver on the promise of authenticity, originality, and respect for the product, the process, the person, and the moment. Everything I do is based on this. And yeah, I’m having fun in the kitchen. I love it—this is my happy place.”

Thanks to Chef Fernandini’s online class, my apartment kitchen is a happier place, too, a place were Peruvian cuisine and culture will always be welcome.

Until next month, this is “In the Kitchen with OIC” wishing you Buen provecho!

Request news of Chef Fernandini’s  classes hereCan’t wait? Start here, then follow Chef Fernandini here.

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Voilà! The Poetry of Untranslatable Words

by Meredith Mullins on September 28, 2020

Linguistic trivia says that the Inuits have 50 words for snow. But how, in languages,
do you find the one perfect word to describe something—le mot juste?
© Meredith Mullins

Wordplay with Meaning

We live in challenging times. We have had to become super-adaptable beings, asking ourselves every day how to cope with the multitude of new normals.

What changes emerge?

Have you, like most of the world, savored hyggelig and gezelligheid?

Have you searched for moments of beauty in komorebi, mångata, and psithurism?

Have you had the urge to commit to jijivisha and to integrate firgun and merak into life rhythms?

Wait a minute, you’re saying to yourself. What language are we speaking here? We’re not that adaptable. What do these cryptic words mean?

Has OIC Moments lapsed into a world of jabberwocky—wordplay with nonsense words that have no meaning? No . . . we are just taking a moment to appreciate the elegance of untranslatable words.

How many untranslatable words about reindeer are there in Finnish?
Read on for the best one.
© iStock/Artpilot

Tales of the Untranslatable

This “Oh, I see” moment is about words in different languages that have no direct translation in English.

Almost all of the 7000+ languages in the world have words that cannot be succinctly translated. They are such a perfect poetic reflection of the people and lifestyle of their own culture that it takes several English words to convey their meaning. More often than not, the translations fall short of the more insightful meaning that has evolved within the culture.

There’s No Place Like Home

Many of the untranslatable words describe feelings of home.

Hyggelig (Danish/Norwegian)

The Danish/Norwegian hyggelig conjures a picture of contentment and coziness. You feel warm just hearing the word.

It’s about friendship, comfort, security, good times, and all the important things in life. A translation of “nice” doesn’t begin to describe what this word means to these cultures, although the entymological similarity to the English word “hug” provides some hint to the underlying meaning.

The Dutch word gezelligheid and the German word gemütlichkeit also allude to this kind of comfortable feeling.

We could all use a little hyggelig in our life.
© iStock/Solovyova

Depaysement (French)

The French word depaysement means feeling apart from your world of origin. It can occur when you are in another country and you sense that you don’t quite belong. This unfamiliar feeling might cause a longing for your home country or general unease at being away.

As cultures integrate, most visitors find a way to connect—to avoid depaysement.
© Meredith Mullins

Hiraeth (Welsh)

The Welsh word hiraeth also refers to a longing for the homeland, but includes a sadness for anything that has been lost. It is a wistfulness for lost friends and a regret that the past is the past and cannot be relived. It could be translated into an interweaving of three words: yearning, nostalgia, and homesickness.

The wistful longing of hiraeth or saudade
© Meredith Mullins

Saudade (Portuguese)

Saudade in Portuguese is similar to hiraeth. It is a longing for something or someone that is lost. The love still burns strong for this missing link.

A Search for Beauty

Moving on from the words that linger on nostalgia and yearning, we find solace in the beauty and peace of nature.

In search of beauty . . . komorebi meets the challenge.
© iStock/Thekopmylife

Komorebi (Japanese)

The Japanese word komorebi invokes an image of sunlight filtering through trees. The translation includes “tree,” “escape,” and “light,” but what arrives in the imagination far exceeds the words. The scene that comes to mind includes rays of sunlight that take on a spiritual quality when finding their way through a silent forest.

Mångata (Swedish)

Mångata is a visual story. This Swedish word describes the reflection of the moon on water as it seems to create a shimmering path. Yakamoz in Turkish has a similar meaning. These cultures clearly have romantic reverence for the moon . . . and a single lyrical word to honor its magic.

A mangata that captures the beauty of the universe
© iStock/jakkapan21

Psithurism (Greek)

Why shouldn’t a language have a word for the sound of leaves rustling in the wind? The word psithurism is adapted from the ancient Greek word meaning “whisper” and offers yet another sensory path to connect with nature.

Waldeinsamkeit (German)

The German word waldeinsamkeit describes the feeling of being connected to nature when you’re alone in the woods. The literal translation includes “wald” which means forest, and “einsamkeit,” which means loneliness or solitude.

Finding solitude in the forest—looking outward and inward (and upward)
© Meredith Mullins

For Germans, the word is more than a description. It is a philosophy that focuses on finding the beauty of nature in a quiet setting and looking both outward and inward. Several poets, including Ralph Waldo Emerson, have used this word in their poetry.

Another German word, waldbaden, has a similar meaning. It translates to bathing in the forest—opening your senses while in the woods and letting nature flow over and in you.

Waldeinsamkeit and waldbaren—a connection to nature
© Meredith Mullins

Gökotta (Swedish)

This word inspires a life change that seems to bring happiness to those who embrace it (although you have to be a morning person). It means to rise at dawn to go outside and listen to the birds’ first songs of the day.

Gluggaveður (Icelandic)

Not all interaction with nature is so intimate and meditative. The word gluggaveður in Icelandic is a prime example of needing to have a front row, warm, indoor seat to observe nature. It translates to “windowweather.”

Sometimes the best way to enjoy the beauty of inclement weather is through the window,
a nod to gluggaveður in Icelandic.
© iStock/Sveti

More Practical Than Poetic

There are also untranslatable words that are practical, referring to the mundane tasks and challenges of daily life, especially the elements that are specific to the culture.

Tsundoku (Japanese)

The Japanese word tsundoku means to buy a book and leave it unread, piling it with the other unread books in your home. (How many of us need to add this word to our vocabulary?)

Schilderwald (German)

This word brings a smile as it means a maze or jungle of traffic signs—a street crowded with so many road signs that you can’t find your way out. The more literal translation is “a forest of signs.”

Lost in schilderwald—a forest of street signs.
© iStock/Ginton

Gigil (Tagalog)

The Filipinos have a word that captures the irresistible urge to hug or pinch something cute.

Pana po’o (Hawaiian)

The Hawaiians have a special word to describe the act of scratching your head to try to remember something—pana po’o.

Are you scratching your head trying to remember what hyggelig means?
© iStock/Shironosov

Poronkusema (Finnish)

Finland has introduced a unit of measure that all can understand. Poronkusema means the distance a reindeer can comfortably travel before taking a break.

Pisanzapra (Malaysian)

Malaysia uses some specific measures of time. The pinsanzapra equals the minutes needed to eat a banana.

The next time you have the irresistible urge to hug something cute,
there IS a word for it (in Tagalog)—gigil.
© iStock/BichoRaro

Life Resolutions

The wordplay that we find in untranslatable words tells us much about the cultures of the world. As we think about which of these words we would like to incorporate into our own life, we find out more about ourselves.

I have embraced all these words (yes, even reindeer distance). There are hundreds more worthy of study. But I add to the vocabulary three additional words that shouldn’t be missed.

The Hindi word jijivisha means a strong wish to live life intensely. Add to that the Serbian word merak and the Hebrew word firgun and there can be purpose in these challenging times.

A merak kind of day—enjoying the simplest of pleasures
© Meredith Mullins

Merak translates to happiness and a feeling of connection to the universe with the simplest of pleasures.

Firgun tells the story of unselfish joy for someone or something and a true generosity of spirit.

Words to live by.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

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