[There is a way of telling this.]
Today we set out on an expedition to Mustapha and took a detour down Desker Road. There are pink lamps lit over some open doorways, and in the garish pink light sit girls with their legs crossed or old women guarding the doorway (and one resting by the door with her walking aid - but perhaps that household enjoys pink lighting). Food afterwards and then the muchness that is Mustapha. Doesn't Mustapha remind you of those gigantic discount stores in the States? With everything piled high and nothing that you would really want to buy (except the electronic stuff. And the food. Always the food).
Apart from that there isn't much happening that I can remember, but that's partly because it's 5 a.m. in the morning.
Movie count:
- Bride and Prejudice (pure Bollywood with rather unfortunate bits of dialogue in between the singing and dancing - the movie follows Jane Austen faithfully except for extraneous characters like Kitty and the Hursts, witty dialogue and biting social commentary);
- Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow (as cheesy as the title promises);
- Motorcycle Diaries (Gael Garcia Bernal is gorgeous, and the movie is quite picturesque too);
- Hamam (thought it was too sentimental about Istanbul, but then again that was the point of the movie).
Book count (excepting the fluff and Pratchett and Wodehouse re-reads):
- John Updike, In the Beauty of the Lilies (my first Updike, and beautiful and understated);
- a couple of Gore Vidals (soap opera);
- Julian Barnes, Flaubert's Parrot (can't say anything about this in one bracket);
- Reading Lolita in Tehran (a woman professor teaching literature at the university in Tehran under the post-revolution fundamentalist regime in Iran. You should read this, even if you're the sort who shies away from books with Nabokov works and exotic cities in their titles);
- Going Postal (thank you Su-Lin for borrowing it from the library!)
- Minzhi's (copy of) The Bear Went over the Mountain (sorry, darling, for hanging onto it for so long. It's amazing).
- Jose Saramago, Blindness (first Saramago and am still reading).