Jazz Jerky Sesh

There’s something quite relaxing about taking public transport when I’m overseas, something about the complete lack of time constraints I’ve felt so far on this trip means nothing is really late or on time. Everything is done at a gentle meandering pace similar to sloths on Prozac. My trip to downtown Vancouver was certainly no different, with a leisurely walk through the ‘ghetto’ to the local sky train station followed by a half hour long 30 ft tall moving view of the city.

My ‘goal’ for the day was to wander a bit and check out the Vancouver International Jazz Festival, oh and get Starbucks (Holy mother of god how have I missed the frappuccinos from starbucks).  Naturally in keeping with the general demeanour of the trip I had no idea where the jazz festival was being held so I decided I’d get off at any stop that sounded downtowny. I somehow ended up here…

Turns out it was Canada Day and in response to its national festivities a bunch of young activists decided to hold a pro marijuana rally/sesh. Our backpacked MC got everyone riled up with anti government rhetoric and then decided to mellow everyone out by acting as self appointed ‘Green Santa Claus’ with sack and all.

Dishing out the Kush like a charity worker with Tourette syndrome he slid his way through the crowd screaming wait for 4.20, and that they did. Slowly coming upon 4.19pm everyone grabbed their local fire provider and finally after the countdown everyone lit up. It took about 30 seconds for the people in the centre of this mass sit in to realise what 2000 people smoking up in close quarters would mean… A mad rush for fresh air ensued. Thank goodness they provided a safe spot to rest.

After escaping the haze I finally stumbled upon the Jazz Festival which happened to be set on the banks of Vancouver bay. With sunlight dwindling I was set upon by some of the most ridiculous Jazz I've ever heard. Now while I enjoyed the fast beat and killer lead saxophone, I feel the reason the "Shuffle Demons" have never been commercially successful is for the fact they can't write lyrics to save themselves. For about 50% of one song they sung about cheese on bread, while in the other 50% of the song they just sung the words 'cheese on bread'. So disappointed and hungry I left the music area and found this gem of a food truck. 

Now if you've never tried Jamaican food before your in for a surprise, their chicken 'jerky' looks deceptively like roast chicken, but tastes like an itching volcanic rash on your tongue. I was seriously crying for a good 2 minutes before the Jamaican truck lady started laughing at me and said "I'm sorry love I thought you knew it was medium"

For now I am forever scarred and apprehensive when I see jerky on the menu, I should of stuck with what I knew, I guess its back to the orange juice for me...

P.S. Just a quick video bonus for you all
My uncle is a little obsessed with Indian reality television, and while eating one night I bore witness to one of the more ridiculous sights of hindi tv. I hope you enjoy, its fairly adorable.

Linsanity and my addiction

At present I am staying with my Tibetan uncle and his family in New Westminster, Vancouver. The sightseeing has been fairly nonexistent so far. Though we did take a 45 minute ferry to Victoria Island yesterday, it's a beautiful place what with it being intoxicatingly forested and wild with nature. Steve Parish would orgasm at the number of trees here, let alone all the other flora and fauna. But, alas due to my aversion to nature and all things green I thought I was in the before scene of a Telfast commercial.

Much more to my liking has been the chillaxing with cousins. Our lazy days take place in an area my cousin described as the "Vancouver Ghetto". Now while I don't have a large experience in identifying 'ghetto' neighbourhoods I feel New Westminster lacks that dangerous edge you associate with your stereotypical ghetto. The area is full of 2nd generation immigrants all super polite and cheerful.
One highlight of my time here has to be the street basketball. Warm afternoons spent playing and watching 2nd generation, generally asian youth try to 'dominate' the half court. As you may know asians in general aren't the most vertically gifted people, so believe me when I tell you that watching basketball being played by teams averaging 5ft 6 with broken english smack talk is amazing, fucking amazing.

What I'm also really enjoying is family time, I've always enjoyed visiting family overseas. In Canberra I lack any form of family interaction outside my immediate family so to go overseas and be immersed in 'family time' is something I love. The best is the fact that my Aunt here in treats me to ridiculous amounts of Tibetan food. From momos (traditional Tibetan Dumplings) to just insanely large cuts of braised meat, I feel like going into a food coma after each meal. Every meal after I finish a large enough portion to satisfy a small rhino my aunt ninjas my plate away to get me more. I'm not really sure if she actually speaks english for every time I say "No, its ok I'm quite full" she just grins and plates me more food.

I do quite enjoy the excess food consumption but my one concern in all this gluttony is the levels of orange juice I'm consuming. From the first moments of opening my eyes  through to the amazing Canadian summer evenings with their 10pm sunset. Anytime I am home I am accompanied by a large (I'm guessing) 600ml blue glass cup. My aunt must be under some impression that I in danger of falling ill to scurvy, because anytime the cup resembles being half empty she rushes to get what must be at least a 3 litre vessel that the juice resides in and promptly fills the cup. It's been 4 days and I've been through at least 2 of these american sized juice bottles.

My name is Casper and i have a juice addiction. I fear it may be affecting my digestive system. Please help :)

Love Casper

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