by Sarah Baik
May 12, 2020
“After my grandpa passed away, I thought, damn, maybe this is the moment I moved back to Taiwan. At least I would get to see my parents often, and see my grandma. And I wanted my kids to know about my family. If you haven’t seen your great-grandma, when she passes away you’ll have no feelings. It’s like you didn’t even know her. I didn’t want that with my kids. I wanted my kids to know where they come from, where their parents come from.”
April 25, 2020
“I decided to move into street food around October. I do West Indies, so Caribbean food. What’s really good in London is at the Carnival, everyone opts for jerk chicken. Once you have the grill going, everyone’s running. You can’t go wrong, really. I decided to do jerk chicken and fried dumplings. A fried dumpling is like a donut – in Saint Lucia we call it bakes, Jamaican people call it dumplings. And the rest of the Caribbean has johnny cakes, which are much bigger.
Jerk chicken mainly comes from Jamaica. One of the most important things is having the pimento sauce, cinnamon, and ground seasoning of cloves. That will give you a really good jerk. You put it on the grill, and you get a nice authentic flavour occurring, and it’s just really good.
I left Saint Lucia when I was twelve years old. And my grandparents also had their street food stall. Every Friday and Saturday you’d have what’s called a fish night, or where you just have local street food that is really awesome. You’d have things like fried chicken, jerk chicken, grilled lamb, grilled pigtail, all of these things. You’d have lots of these lovely treats.”
Mid-April thoughts, 2020
This isn’t easy. I’ve been thinking a lot about what my friend Bianca said to me the other day:
“Now even more so than ever, we need a little compassion and care. We’re all going through something really difficult right now, we’re not all doing ‘fine.’ We’re all worried about something.”
Here are some of the things I’m feeling. Some of my thoughts, worries, and reflections this April.
April 7, 2020
“My very last day in Paris, I had literally packed up all my stuff, and my landlord had come by to pick up my keys. I still had a few hours left until I had to catch my train back home.
And there was a neighbour, who I think was living two floors above me. He was the first person I met when I moved in. He was always standing right outside my window, smoking. And it used to annoy me, because all the smoke then would come into my room. And he would always chat to all kinds of people. That annoyed me too.
So the very last day, I was leaving the apartment, and it was all the emotions and it was weird. And he was standing outside my window, again. And for first time, I got to really chat to this guy, and it was the most amazing conversation I had in four years of living in Paris.
He told me his whole story of how he came from Sicily when he was seventeen without any money, and he’s been living in Paris ever since. He was already retired. All of a sudden, I had an understanding for him and why he was talking to so many people on the street, because he knew everyone who lived on that street by now.
He told me that he was a carpenter. And now, he refurbishes furniture for fun and sells them. He would pick up some stuff from flea markets and tear everything apart, and re-do the cushions and put a new fabric on them. There was this couch with a wooden frame and a zebra print! It looked amazing.
In that moment I sort of believed in, something like destiny. That some things were meant to happen. I felt that maybe I was meant to finally talk to him on my last day, to leave Paris with a smile.
The last thing he told me was, ‘do not lose your spirit.’ That’s when I thought I had to write this down. Those moments, you really have to keep in your memory for whenever things do get tough again.
And I had the entire conversation for half an hour in French, too. I was proud of myself!”
April 3, 2020
“Two days ago, my sister-in-law delivered a baby girl. So when I leave quarantine on Sunday, I get to see the baby! And Monday is when her naming ceremony is, and I get to perform the ceremony.
The ceremony is called Chatti, which basically translates to six. The baby is named on the sixth day, and before that, you just call the baby ‘baby’. Even if you know the name, you can’t call her by the name yet. Usually it’s the sister of the baby’s father who performs the ceremony.
The ceremony happens after the sun sets at night. In both ears of the baby, you say a prayer, you tell the baby its name, and then you tell it to everyone.”
April 2020
Life has changed, and so has how we connect with people. Meeting someone over a cup of coffee for one of these Coffee Stained Stories has become not only an irresponsible thing to do, but an impossibility.
But as much as I love sitting down for a coffee chat at a local favourite spot, it’s the stories of Coffee Stained Stories that are at the heart of this project. A pandemic may alter how we live, work, and communicate, but there will always be stories to be told, connections to be celebrated.
So while we continue to live in this new reality, I’ll still be writing about stories that friends and strangers, daydreamers and hustlers share with me. Via videocalls from right here in my living room.
One day, friends will be hugging. Little humans will be running around out in the playground. Communities will reclaim their energy. We will get through this.
And when we do, I hope that we will continue to show our gratitude to front line workers. I hope that we will take a long, hard look at what we need as a society to thrive. I hope that we will be conscious of human impact on this planet. I hope that we won’t forget to check up on friends and family. I hope that we will continue being kind to one another. I hope that we will stay true to what matters.
Love,
Sarah
Alison’s office, Buchanan E ft. Great Dane Coffee | February 27, 2020
“My first son was born three weeks early, as if he had his own agenda. It was a last-minute C-section after almost 48 hours of labour.
I remember being wheeled out by the nursery and peering through the window, deep in the middle of the night. And I swear he opened his eyes and looked at me. I know they’re not supposed to do that, but I swear he did, and it was like this electric shock. I looked at him, and I realized, here was this complete human being who knew exactly who he was, and what he wanted and needed, and that I was going to be spending the rest of my life running after him, figuring it out. And I had never thought of it that way. I had these grandiose notions, and yet, he knew who he was.
And there was something so humbling about that, that it just sort of dropped me into this place of being able to write for children without being didactic. That’s the truth of it.”
Grounds for Coffee | February 19, 2020
“The Rat Snake of Baekjae is related to the story of a shaman. Shamans are an interesting type of people, even in Korea. They are considered ominous by most people. And I’ve had sort of a personal connection with a shaman when I was young. My mom was friends with a shaman’s daughter, and I saw her stealing uncooked rice from a restaurant. Later, my mom learned that there’s this belief that if you eat someone’s rice, you get all the fortunes of that house! Which is creepy, you know? So once my mom learned of this, she never invited her in again. She used to come to our house and eat our rice as well!
My main character in this book is a shaman’s daughter. I wanted to know what it would be like to be a daughter of a shaman.”
Dawna Shim on the things she notices in Vancouver on exchange from South Korea, and her love of reading and writing.
December 2019
Did I mention my natural habitat looks like beaches, bookstores and well-lit cafés?
My heart is full as I look back on this past year, I’ve discovered some new faves and made it back to a few old gems, and I feel so damn lucky to have a long list of happy places!
Caffè Cittadella | October 26, 2019
“I’m lucky that I was able to stand on the shoulders of caring, intelligent parents who gave everything for their kids. And they were lucky to stand on someone else’s shoulders. It’s a cycle, and I was lucky I fell on the positive side. And at a certain point, what you do with that luck is up to you. And I’m at that point where I think now what I do with all that luck is up to me.”
Vivek Sahay on growing up in Mexico, and living in different cities around the world. On what’s next for him, and on his desire to be impactful.