World Nomads Travel Scholaship Entry: HELP!

Meat or Soup. Vietnam or Argentina. Please help me decide which one to enter. The topic is :  Understanding a Culture through food.  Apparently they are looking for essays that show:

- great descriptive ability
- strong eye for detail
- ability to uncover and tell a compelling story
- excellent spelling and grammar and a knack for avoiding clichés

Please make your choice and either comment below or on facebook. And email me or fb message me any additional comments, corrections or improvements. GRACIAS!

Option 1: Street Eating

My rear-end tingled with pinned and needled numbness as I crouched on the teeny tiny red plastic stool. Later that week I would be introduced to the man allegedly responsible for the introduction of this ubiquitous seating to Hanoi, but for now, my attention was being monopolised by the steaming bowl of soup before me. I followed my father's lead, plunging the tooth-chewed communal chopsticks into the mystery broth and holding them beneath the surface. 

“The soup's just off the boil so I figure this will kill off any germs,” Dad explained.
The steam delivered the fermented sweet and sour smell of the country's notorious fish sauce to my nostrils where it intermingled with the head-tickling exoticness of anise and coriander. The soup's fragrant contents layered upon the already established street odours, creating a kind of evocative olfactory decoupage.
 

It was time to eat.
 

After a brief moment contemplating the identity of the meat, I commenced with a hearty slurp of broth and sucked down a few slippery white noodles for good measure. Oh yes. It was good.
 

I was 17. It was my first time eating street food in a foreign country. And I was hooked.
 

Since losing my street-eating virginity way back then, upon arriving in any given destination I will immediately head to the streets, gesture convincingly at whatever mysterious concoction excites my curiosity, plonk myself down next to some unsuspecting local and plug into the community in a way not possible on a guided tour.
 

While eating the cheapest, and arguably, the best food available, you are also served a tantalising slice of local reality; pretension-free exchanges and simple but important rituals. It helps that my adventurous approach to food is accompanied by guts of steel and a (touch-wood) never-get-sick confidence. I guess one day my reckless hubris will render me powerless and clutching at a porcelain bowl. But until then, and, in all likelihood, afterwards as well, the call of the street resounds.

Option 2: Pleased to meat you.

“Bravo!” I chorused over the building applause, appreciatively eyeing the meaty towers that crowded the table. The Asador (the evening's appointed barbeque buff) accepted the traditional thanks with a gracious bow before stabbing his fork into a chubby little chorizo and loading up the first plate. Soon afterwards, myself and 15 other carnivores were unleashing our inner caveman on pile of sausage, steak and innards that would stop Fred Flinstone in his tracks.

Welcome to the Argentinian asado. In a country where the eating of meat has been elevated beyond quintessential pastime, to something closely resembling a national sport (I've been told Argies consume 100kg of beef a year per capita), the barbeque is taken very seriously indeed.

I'd been invited to arrive at 9pm. “Oh! But you can't arrive before 9.30pm”, I was cautioned by my Porteña friend, “It would be rude! They won't be ready!” Ahh.. Argentine-time.

Fireside, the coals turned ember-red, while we downed that potent Listerine-like concoction of Fernet and Coke and stuck the boot into political leaders and football players. My inner-Aussie comfortably embraced this familiar ritual as the asador expertly created his collage de carne on the grill, arranging the various cuts according to cooking time and usual eating order. Grilled nibbles to begin; teeth-blackening morcilla (blood sausage), tender sweetbreads, best-you-don't-know-what-they-are chinchulines; all offal-ly good (ba boom ching etc). Then the main event of strip, flank, ribs and belly.

Is there anything that arouses salivary glands more than the smell of flame-licked beef?

The grass-fed, happy-cow goodness of Argentinian beef is so staggeringly flavoursome, my knees feel weak at even its memory. Salt-seasoned (anything else would detract) and cooked in the open air with the tendrils of smoke from the woodchips still teasing your nostrils, I defy you to find better. 

And if you do, please invite me.

So.. what do you actually do there?

BE WARNED. Mega, huge update to follow. Cut-and-pasted from an overdue email update sent out on Monday last week. Please don't feel obliged to read. It is way too long, but I am too lazy to edit. 

Ok. So. right now I am typing this from an airconditioned room in front of the Cartagena Convention Centre. I found myself getting a gig working at the Cumbre de Las Americas - the Summit of all the leaders and heads of state from the countries of the Americas. So yes Obama is coming! Cartagena is such an amazing place. There is always something happening here. Conferences and festivals and summits and parties and religious holidays etc etc etc. The first week I arrived here was the film festival. So amazing! Free movies all day for a week! Did I already tell you that the delicious Gael (motorcycle diaries, amores perros etc etc) walked right by me at the opening night. Literally made bodily contact as he brushed his way to the red carpet. He is kinda short. But I´d make an exception.  That whole week was amazing. Nightly parties with famous or soon-to-be famous directors, free movies in theatres all around town, free popcorn!! The month before it was the Hay Festival. A writer's festival with talks and activities focused on the famous and soon to be famous writers. Jonathan Franzen was here Gabriel Garcia  Marquez ofcourse etc etc. Then there was the Jazz festival.  SO yes.. even though the town is small, it is never boring.

The Cumbre (summit) is kinda a big deal. It will pretty much necessitate the shutting down of the entire city for a week. I am working in the aforementioned airconditioned room checking in delegates. What this actually entails is me smiling hugely at people as they enter the room and then passing them on to someone else. My hope is that sometime soon there will be someone who actually needs my english and I will be able to feel useful. But the rest of the time I am just masquerading. And wearing white pants. That are tight. Ugh. .In typical me fashion I got the job by going out and being uber chatty while tipsy, talking to a friend of a friend of someone I met while house hunting.  I am getting paid (hopefully) 70,000 pesos a day. I think it works out to about $35. My hours are 6.30am to 8pm.  But it is super good to get any money at all! To give you some idea of costs here.. it can be as cheap or as expensive as you like. You´d be hardpressed to find clothes less that $50. I can eat dinner and lunch for as little as 6,000 ($3). But $12,000 would be more common´and still good value. You can buy a beer for less than $2,000 ($1) from the corner store. It´s quite easy to find a happy hour with 2 4 1 mojitos.. for 12,000 or $6 for 2. If you don't know where to look though, you're more likely to spend 25,000 for dinner (and upwards), 15,000 for each cocktail, 50,000 for a bottle of wine (cut off the zeros and divide by 2) Which is still pretty good value if you are holidaying with dollars and compared to australian prices.. but really expensive compared to the rest of Colombia and when you think what the wages are here.  I pay $150 a month rent but this is rare - I looked for ages and got lucky. And also have to share a room (and a bed!) with someone else! Any snacks you see on the street are around 1,000 (50c) each.. a cold coconut where you drink the juice, then they cut it open so you can eat the flesh is 2,000 ($1).  There are a tonne of tourists here from Argentina that make the place their holiday playground and they push the prices up plus other tourists etc. At this stage there aren't that many americans despite the proximity. I guess they haven´t worked out how safe it is here yet. When they cotton on, which I think will be in the next few years, things will get expensive pretty quickly.

Ok.. anyway. What else to tell you?? What am I doing here?!

When not wearing top to toe white and living in fear that I will spill salsa all over myself, I am usually working at a website www.thisiscartagena.com. It is an online guide for all things Cartagena. I write articles (like a street food guide I did.. I am currently writing about Cartagena´s best happy hours). It's a new site so isn't really making any money yet, so I'm not actually getting paid.  But yes.. the point of doing the website.. even if it is for free instead of, say, more lucrative teaching work.. is that I think it is moving me in the direction I want in terms of life career. I think I will try and make a life here in Cartagena.. maybe some kind of travel business? So the website is really good for making contacts and for learning about starting a business here and for learning about Cartagena generally. So at this stage I am planning on making Cartagena my home. For a lot of reasons. I think it will end up being a key tourist destination but at the moment there isn't a lot here. If I get in now and learn everything and start a tour business I think I can do really well. Plus I really love it here. My typical day involves waking up.. going into plaza trinidad and giving a free english lesson to a couple of girls who live locally and make taquitos. Then I go to work around the corner in a beautiful house owned by my boss Rainbow. Yes, that´s his real name. I haven´t really asked him but I think he had some hardcore hippie parents. He is married to a Colombian from Baranquilla (it´s the neighbouring town to Cartagena and is where Shakira is from.. oh! She is also coming to town for Cumbre to perform for the Summit!). He has been here for 10 years and has 2 sons. Monty, the eldest is 5 years and is such a dude. I love him! Throughout the day I write and research for the website and I borrow the bike and go visit clients or run errands. I love taking the bike and jetting about town. I feel like such a local!! I get lunch for free (well, in exchange for working 10 hour days for nothing). Rainbow is also going to sponsor me to work here.

So my home neighbourhood or barrio is called Getsemani. You say it with a h not g. They even have their own anthem.. Soy Getsemanisense!! google it. I plan on learning the words! I love love love love my neighbourhood. I feel like part of the community - and there is this real community vibe. People wear these Orgulloso Getsemanisense tshirts (I´m a proud person from Getsemani!) and have each others' backs. Life revolves around the plaza trinidad which is in front of the church. After work I might grab myself a cup of peta which is a hot chunky drink made from corn and tastes kind of sweet and milky and satifying. Then I will sit in the plaza and watch kids skateboard, or the men play chess. Most people seem to know or recognise me, even though I can´t really remember them. I think I am their token tall blonde gringa.Like a mascot. I feel like I know so many people here already! If I spend an hour in the plaza I will probably chat to about 15 people that I know. It doesn´t move much beyond ¨hello, how are you?¨because I still don´t really speak Spanish. It´s just so hard for me to learn without seeing the words written down and properly studying it. I will start to take classes when the summit is over. But yes, I really really love my neighbourhood. I come out of my house in the mornings (which is also whacky and wonderful) and just feel this giant heartswell as soon as I step into the street. The bright pink bougainvillea! the way there is already music playing, my neighbours sitting in front of their houses, the men playing hotly contested games of ludo, the kids cycling around en masse on their bikes, the people selling fruit and vegetables and bread!! There is so much music and colour!!

Even the food here is musical!! The vendors announce what they are selling with a song -- everything has it´s own sound. pan pan pan pan pan pan pan (said in fast succession and accompanied by the drumming on a metal tin.. that´s the sound of bread.)

After chilling in the plaza for a bit and catching up with locals, I will usually try and go for a run around the bay of Manga or down to bocagrande (the beach). 

Boy-wise, my research has been progressing nicely. Have experienced crazy latino jealousy and intense declarations of undying love. In one particular instance following a bizarre jekyl and hyde script where he switched from "preciosa, mi amor, me encanta etc etc" to .. "why didn´t you answer your phone.. were you with any guys, who were you with.. I don´t think you like me as much as I like you etc etc" 

Dating has given me the opportunity to get out to the burbs and experience more of the real Cartagena... hanging out in local neighbourhoods or driving to the beach with the sound system blaring (they are particularly into that Rihanna song at the moment.. what kind of love in a hopeless place or something like that).

And OH! This city is SO romantic! It´s so easy to imagine I am in Love in the Time of Cholera, which was set here in Cartagena (unofficially). The sunsets are so so beautiful. This gorgeous tequila sunrise of orange and yellow that descends into a mauve haze. And the way the sun sets over the sea.. with palm trees! And as you sit on the ancient wall that circles the city and drink the beer you bought for less than a dollar.. it´s impossible not to be happy. Anyway.. young lovers go to the wall and make out at night. They have even made it into a verb - murallado -- ¨wall-ing¨ which I think is hilarious! There´s also horse drawn carriage rides. Horse rides along the beach. Copious time spent near-nude in bikinis. Oh! And DANCING! so much dancing. I still suck at partner dancing though. I always just want to do my own thing. But it is still romantic!

I'm thinking about making up little romance-related cards with piropos on them and selling them for some pocket money.  But that's just an idea I had yesterday.

Anyway.. that was just a whole lot of junk from my head to hopefully give a bit more of an insight to my life here. In summary, and in response to my FAQs: 

How ARE you? Awesome. Happy..  

Where ARE you?! Cartagena, Colombia. 

When are you coming back? No plans to. 

Where to next? My only plan is to attend the wedding of Leah and Mark on June 3. Otherwise, Cartagena is my home and I will be coming back here after the wedding? I'm not backpacking.. I'm living.

Update for the Update: Managed to be within 2 metres of Obama and a bunch of other leaders as they strutted past me in the convention centre.