Take a walk around any big city, London to New York to Narnia, and you’ll see that street food is all the rage these days. Never mind the fact that people around the world have been eating out of carts for centuries; when white people in places like Austin start to take note of its “charm” and willingly fork over $10 for a taco, you know street food has arrived. Sadly, they can try every one of those $10-a-plate carts in every city in America, and they’ll never find anything as good as what can be had for a tiny fraction of that price on the streets of Bangkok.

Thailand is notorious for street food, as it suits the local culture in so many ways. First, Thai people generally don’t eat three square meals a day, instead preferring to have many more small meals. Second, these are a social people, generally preferring to meet outside rather than staying in the home. And finally, Thais are sticklers for cleanliness—obviously an important factor when eating a few meters away from speeding motorcycles and trucks.

Furthermore, you can find just about anything on the streets here, though there’s a good bet that it will have undertones of fish sauce and red chilies. Given the international nature of Thailand and its cuisines, the mixture of culinary traditions from throughout Asia and even the Middle East leaves room for plenty of creative concoctions.

While small dishes rule the roost, my personal favorites are larger meals, often cooked up on the sidewalks of regular restaurants after they are closed for business for the day. Picture anything you’ve ever ordered at your local Thai restaurant (except for pad thai, which of course seems targeted more towards unsuspecting white people), and it is available here in abundance, with only fresh, local ingredients, for about $2 USD.

Street food here is neither boutique-trendy nor low-quality. It’s just a normal part of the local food culture, and you’re stomach will probably be best suited here if you never set food inside an actual restaurant.

Before you even finish reading this post, chances are your friends in Spain are getting ready to eat—again. See, the Spanish don’t believe in the three square meals a day traditionally enjoyed by much of humanity. Here, it’s actually more like six. But before you worry about heart attacks and blood clotting that this sort of gluttony must surely lead to, fear not—the meals are small, and people here tend to enjoy healthy lifestyles full of walking and exercise.

So without further adieu, let’s introduce you to the meals enjoyed in Spain throughout the day—a far more intricate exercise than your typical breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Timetable of Meals in Spain

8:00am:  El Desayuno

A small meal typically eaten at home consisting of coffee and some bread or pastry—perhaps churros (think stick-like Spanish donut) or porras (similar to churros but slightly thicker).

El Desayuno: churros and a cup of hot chocolate (or coffee)

11:00am:  Tapas

Small plates eaten between breakfast and lunch, typically at a local bar, each of which serves its own specialty. Hot or cold, the selection of tapas varies greatly by region, and even by restaurant, but some of the most common are the Tortilla Espanola (Spanish potato omelet), Patatas Bravas (potatoes with spicy tomato sauce), or Gambas al Ajillo (shrimp cooked in garlic).

A selection of tapas available in a Madrid restaurant

A close-up of a tortilla espanola…

2:00pm:  La Comida

The largest and most important meal of the day, this historically consists of several courses and is enjoyed slowly, with most Spanish people taking a 2-3 hour siesta (break) from their jobs or schools between about 2:00 and 5:00 in the afternoon. This tradition is more confined to rural areas now, as most Spanish businesses today offer the standard 1-hour lunch break, which is still enough to feature a large meal with a soup, a protein, salad, dessert and a coffee.

Lunch in Madrid

A fine Valencian paella

5:30pm:  La Merienda

This is a small snack between lunch and dinner, usually consisting of a piece of bread with some lunch meat or chocolate on top.

A typical Merienda

9:00pm:  La Cena

Dinner for Spaniards consists of similar meals that may be enjoyed during La Comida, just in smaller quantity—perhaps two courses. Families typically eat around 9pm, but this may be much later in the summer, when it is not uncommon for people to stay up well past midnight.

Dinner selections are similar to lunch, just smaller

Midnight:  Dessert

This is by no means mandatory, but it is typical for people here to enjoy a light snack prior to bed, which often consists of a churro and some hot chocolate (very similar to El Desayuno). You’ll see this sold frequently by street vendors in popular nightlife areas.

My ID:  8:05am, Saturday, 09 May 2009:  Muscat Seeb International Airport

Oman Air flight WY602 from Dubai

Coming from the hustling, bustling, steel-and-glass metropolis of Dubai, my Initial Descent into Oman had me expecting more of the same. Sure, I had heard that Oman seemed to preserve more of its traditional heritage than its more famous neighbor to the north, but given that Muscat’s arrival onto the international scene along with the rest of the major cities in the Gulf region, I was skeptical.

From the design of the airport itself to the slower pace of the immigration and Arrivals halls, I immediately understood that this wasn’t the same as Bahrain, Dubai, or even Doha. This place indeed marched to its own rhythm, and I was going to enjoy it.

Muscat Seeb International Airport

Even the ride into town was different. There didn’t seem to be the maddening traffic prevalent in the other cities here. There were surely signs of Western influence—your occasional American restaurant chain or hotel—but it seemed more understated and subtle. Upon landing in my fifth city in the Middle East, I finally felt as though I was really in this part of the world.

Traffic isn’t a problem here–yet, at least

The Flag Representing the “Rainbow Nation”

While South Africa put its best foot forward to embody the “Rainbow Nation”  mantra that Nelson Mandela was heavily responsible for brilliantly engineering while it hosted the World Cup in 2010, it is virtually impossible to touch down in this country for the first time and not think about the fact that apartheid, and all its injustices and horrors, was right here less than 20 years ago.  The “coloured” (mixed race) gate agent greeting you off the jet bridge lived through it.  The white immigration officer who stamped your passport lived through it.  The black taxi driver who whisks you off to your hotel lived through it.  And not as a distant childhood memory, either.  These men and women who you are interacting with ever so casually today actually lived a high percentage of their adult lives under apartheid. 

As excited as I was to be landing in South Africa for the first time and as anxious as I was to lay eyes on Cape Town, I had a really difficult time wrapping my head around this.  I wanted with every fiber of my being to ask the mixed woman what she felt of her ethnicity today, and if she still had any bitterness to either the blacks or whites, neither of which would have accepted her 20 years ago.  I wanted to ask the white man if he himself was racist before, or merely a pawn in a political game he had no clout in.  Or, for that matter, if he held any strong prejudices against blacks even today.  I wanted to ask the black man his take on the current “equality”, and whether it was truly possible for anyone not named Mandela to endure racial oppression for so long and be willing to wipe the slate against your oppressors clean.

Such a gruesome and fascinating, albeit sensitive, topic, I will use this space in the future to dig into these questions.

A Tribute to Equality on Robben Island

Nothing is cuter than a baby’s butt, right? I’m not sure that I’d agree with that statement, but in China, it has become a popular trend to show them off.

See, it is not uncommon here to see babies essentially being potty trained out in public, on the street…anywhere that’s convenient! To make it easy, the pants now are basically designed without a butt! Perhaps you’ve seen crotchless panties for a special woman—something to spice up a romantic evening. Well, these are essentially the same thing, but for babies, and to facilitate them doing their business!

A common sights on China’s streets these days

On a recent visit to Shanghai, I was at a hypermarket and saw a Mother holding her baby while the Father was playing with him on the escalator. The baby suddenly started peeing—half into the edge of his pants, a few sprinkles onto the escalator—no worries. The parents exchanged a quick glance, proud of their little one….and then put the baby back into his trolley (which was a shared-use trolley for the hypermarket) as though nothing had happened. Mind you, the baby’s bare behind, and still-trickling-with-pee front side were touching the seat…but again, nothing to worry about. Just hope you don’t choose that trolley next!

Get used to this sight!

This is one of the more memorable surprising things I’ve seen in China, but spend enough time here and nothing along these lines will surprise you after awhile.

Like everyone, I had my preconceptions about Belize before I arrived, for better or worse. After just a few days here, I discovered these six pleasant surprises:

• The language:  Surprisingly, English is the official language of Belize. You are likely to hear Spanish, as well as local languages like Kreyol and Quechi, during your stay here, but you won’t need to know any of it to navigate your way around here.

• The diversity:  While some parts of Central America can feel relatively ethnically homogenous in comparison to parts of the United States, the cultural mix prevalent in Belize is evident immediately upon walking the streets here. Between the Garifuna (the native descendants of the Mayans), the Creoles and the Chinese communities here, you’re in for a mix of diverse cultural experiences.

• The friendliness:  Coming from the East Coast of the States, I’m always surprised when I experience a culture in which strangers greet each other. And that is definitely the common practice in Belize. You’re likely to hear several “good mornings”, “good afternoons” and “good evenings” during your time here, and you may even counter lots of locals eager to start up a good conversation with you.

• The barrier reef:  If you’re a swimmer or a diver, you’re in luck. Belize may be a small country, but it boasts the second-longest barrier reef in the world, which itself is home to seven World Heritage Sites and countless stunning cays. Some of these are inhabited and some aren’t, but each have some of the most exotic species of birds you will ever see.

Belize’s Long Caye (image credit: belizeadventure.com)

• Airport security (or lack thereof):  While Belize City’s International Airport is much like most international airports when it comes to security, it’s strictly-domestic Municipal Airport is a different story. With several flights to the cays that are not easily accessible by boat, there is no security here, and while on board you can literally tap the pilot on the shoulder (I’m not saying I recommend it). When you land, it looks as though you are landing in someone’s backyard and walking through a house more than it resembles an airport.

Caye Caulker Airport or someone’s backyard?

• Ease of transportation:  Contrary to much of Central America, you won’t find military checkpoints looking to extort you on the highways here. There aren’t too many of them, but all of them are safe, in surprisingly good condition, toll-free, and have enough quality signs to make sure you won’t get lost.

My ID:  6:33pm, Sunday, 28 August 2005:  Kuala Lumpur International Airport

Cathay Pacific flight CX721 from Hong Kong

My Initial Descent into Malaysia, via Kuala Lumpur International Airport (like so many others), had me thinking the entire country was a lush, green bed of palm trees. As far as I could see into the distance, rows and rows of palm trees, seemingly planned and organized. I had expected a tropical paradise of sorts, and my first impression was exactly that. And as KLIA is one of the most beautifully designed airports in the world, featuring large glass panels and atriums with more palm trees, that impression continued until long after I had arrived.

While this wasn’t my Initial Descent into Australia, or even into Sydney (this was my second visit), I had one of my more interesting airport arrival experiences here, worth sharing. Sadly, it may even provide a glimpse into Sydney’s culture, although let’s hope that isn’t the case!

Finally reaching Australian soil!

For the last hour or two of my 13-hour flight from San Francisco, I had been talking to my seat buddy, a young lady from Montreal who spent a lot of time in Sydney working in modeling. She had the typical model look–tall, incredibly skinny and pale-skinned–definitely not my type. But she was nice, and most interestingly for me, she was from Montreal. I had always wanted to visit there, and was happy to get some “local” perspective.

This trip, she was to be reunited with her boyfriend, who lived in Sydney and awaited her at the airport. After standing in the customs queue together for another 30 minutes (after our 13 hours together on board), we were about to wish each other farewell and part ways, as she saw her boyfriend awaiting her in the arrivals hall. They hugged, I gave her a casual “good luck” and told her to keep in touch, perhaps by connecting on Facebook. I can’t emphasize enough that after 13 and a half hours of acquaintance, I was just hoping to have someone local I could get some information about Montreal from when I finally did get my act together and visit.

This, apparently, did not sit very well with her boyfriend. She introduced us and we shook hands, and I watched them walk off happily into the Sydney morning. I then proceeded to handle my international arrivals business (sorting out the money situation, phone, etc.), and was shocked to turn around 15 minutes later to a tap on my shoulder. It was the girl’s boyfriend, who had apparently left the girl he had been waiting months to see in the car, and felt the need to walk back into the terminal and seek me out with an important message.

(insert thick Aussie accent here)

Guy: Listen mate, I just wanted to let you know that she’s NOT going to keep in touch with you, and you are NOT going to see her again, alright???

Me: (so astonished that I can’t even stand straight) You actually left her in the car and walked back in here just to tell me that? Whatever man, I’m not even interested!

I then stepped aside and walked away, the situation apparently diffused, given that I didn’t receive any more taps on my shoulder.

Arrivals Hall at Kingsford Smith

But I didn’t know what I was more shocked by–the fact that the guy felt the need to come back and say this to me, when we were clearly introduced–or the fact that he actually had the nerve to tell his lady after they got back to the car that he had to go back into the terminal to talk to me. I mean, what’s she thinking at this point?? I just hope that he didn’t get any that night, and if he did, well, bless that poor girl (with a working brain cell, please).

So, this was my first perception of Sydney–meathead, gym-mongering guys just looking to show off their macho wares to impress a girl. I would later find that while this may be spot on for certain areas like Bondi, fortunately, not every Sydneysider is this way!

I have a theory that as sinful as it may be, food tends to taste better between the hours of midnight and 4am. We’ve all been there—in a group of friends fresh from a bar, whether drunk or sober, taking our seats at the Ihop, Waffle House, Chinese restaurant, Pho place or whatever happens to be open 24 hours in your neck of the woods. Without hesitation, we order the greasiest, heartiest selection on offer, and end our night fat and happy in the comfort of our own bed.

In Canada—and Quebec in particular—that overnight sensation is poutine. Don’t get me wrong—the French fries-covered-in-gravy-and-curd-cheese concoction is available any time of day, or so I’m told. But this is a food meant to be eaten in the throes of the night, with your tank on “empty”, and perhaps even slightly buzzed.

Traditional poutine in Montreal

While poutine originated in Quebec (it is among the only truly “Canadian” foods), it is now easily found throughout Canada. While it sounds like the most grease bucket of foods, the “foodie” wave of recent years has lent itself to poutine as well. Today, you can occasionally find the dish covered with various meats, lobster, crab, shrimp and even caviar or truffles.

I recommend keeping it simple, however. Something about French fries smothered in gravy and grease and cheese screams low class, and I’d argue this national treasure is best enjoyed exactly that way.

One of the great late night spots in Montreal, on Avenue du Mont-Royal

Every country and every culture has its heroes—those individuals, whether politicians, athletes or entertainers that we elevate onto a pedestal, making them bigger than they actually are. America has Bill Clinton, Michael Jordan and Lady Gaga, while England swoons over Prince William and Kate. Brazil elevates its football stars from Pele to Kaka to Neymar, while Nelson Mandela, Charlize Theron and Oscar Pistorius sit high atop the South African psyche. But nowhere on earth is anyone more unanimously embraced and revered than the Philippines’ very own national hero: Manny Pacquiao.

Supporting himself from the age of 14 by winning chump change in street fights, Pacquiao fought his way out of poverty and became one of the most successful boxers in the world. While his professional career has hit some bumps in the past year, which tends to happen with age, he was the world’s “Fighter of the Decade” in the 2000s, earning hundreds of millions of dollars in the process. His success in the ring has led to a cult following outside the ring, as he was elected to the Philippines House of Representatives in 2010, and has also enjoyed success as an actor and a recording artist.

While all national heroes and icons obviously enjoy popularity, you would be hard-pressed to find any figure in the past 50 years who has reached the cult status that Manny has reveled in. If you know anyone who is even of Filipino descent, then you know what I mean. When Manny fights, it’s like Christmas—entire families, friends, cousins, friends of friends, cousins of cousins and friends of friends of those cousins gather to watch. And cheer. Loudly.

It just so happens that Filipinos are also among the more religious people in the world—it seems that everyone is Catholic, proudly attending mass every Sunday, from Manila to California. But I’ve always joked that if Manny Pacquiao—himself a devout Catholic—decided to break from the church and start a religion of his own, the pews of those Catholic Churches would be empty within a week. Instead, everyone would flock to the new Church of Manny to get their fill of the spirit.

Before you get all bent out of shape, relax. I’m just joking. Well, unless Manny actually decides to do it!

Chalk up another one for The Champ

Make ’em swoon, Manny