the amphitheatre neighbourhood

I'm lucky to be able to see my home through fresh eyes; I still have my tourist glasses on. The harsh light; too full of contrasts, making everything look too dark, then too white. There's a hodge podge of buildings along the waterfront, all angular, all different styles, different materials, nothing much to unify the skyline. The space. The big gaps between people on the street. The casual dress, as if everyone's just thrown anything on to buy milk from a corner store. Here, even our bars have outdoor sports, volleyball, tetherball, ping pong. People can't sit still. And the wind. My god, the wind. A friend of ours called it "limiting". Sometimes, I want to scream into it. It's a love/hate thing, this being home. 

New Year's Day was spent at my mother's house in Khandallah. In her neighbourhood, the garages have the best view of the Wellington Harbour.   

The houses are braced against steep hills, surrounded by trees. In a semi-circle, they all face the sea, like an audience waiting to be to entertained at an amphitheatre. The sea performs for them every day.  

We ate chicken and pork adobo, fruit salad with nata de coco and syrupy white beans, rose tea, and Argentinian chocolate with praline.