Cafe hopping in Georgetown

Before going on about street food in Penang, my inner caffeine and cake addict would like to write a post about cafe culture in Georgetown.

I've since grown tired of Singapore's increasingly pricey and crowded cafe scene and have returned to traditional coffee shops for my caffeine fix. But I still very much enjoy experiencing the cafe culture overseas, especially when a cup of coffee and a slice of cake are much more affordable. 

Besides being a trendy and gorgeous neighbourhood, Georgetown has plenty of cafes to choose from and in our short two days there, we managed to visit three lovely coffee places. 

While looking for Behind 50 and subsequently discovering that we were way too early since it only opens from 6pm, we stumbled into a charming place, Cafe 55. The place, which would probably do well as a part time art gallery, specialises in presenting cups of coffee topped with 3D latte art. Besides the cute coffee, the cakes were amazing too. The lemon/orange cake delivered a refreshing burst of citrus goodness to our sunburnt selves.

After a short rest, we trooped on to check out the street art around Armenian Street and settled on the amazing China House. This was my favourite cafe of the lot. We were spoilt for choice at the selection of cakes and spent the most time sitting around chatting and reading its eclectic selection of available books. Before setting off to feed our hungry stomachs, we were pulled into a short film festival of sorts upstairs. 

The next day, we went in search of siphon coffee and cakes baked by the Le Cordon Bleu trained owners at Été cafe. The friendly shop assistant taught us about brewing and enjoying siphon coffee and pairing the flavour with the available cakes. While it was a charming little place, we were slowly turning into mosquito feed!

The food is better on the other side?

Ever since my first plane ride out of Singapore, I've always lamented being "stuck" in my regimented and 99% man-made country (that probably sparked my insatiable desire to see the world). Yet when I recently read a post written by a former expat who quit the country and the subsequent comments left by readers far and wide, I was left blurry eyed and burning with a fierce sense of patriotism (or maybe it was just my emo-nemo self bursting forth). But! This post is not about my struggle to keep from crying in the train (!) It is about my love and hankering for street food across the border, even when my country prides itself on its food. 

A few weekends ago, I hopped onto a plane for two days in Penang. Our main priority was eating our way through Georgetown at a leisurely pace. And boy did we have a feast! It was street food at its best and Penang quickly won my stomach over!

I stubbornly refused to eat anything at home and promptly regretted it when my stomach began churning in hunger while up in the air. Once we arrived and checked into our hotel, I herded my girlfriends out in search of the traditional charcoal toasted kaya bread with soft boiled eggs in a narrow alleyway. Tradition never tasted so good! I loved the crispy toasted bread that won our home grown Yakun just by its simplicity and authenticity.  

Greed took a firmer hold on us when the nasi lemak seller delivered a tray of piping hot packets of soft fluffy goodness to the alley. It was simple - consisting of just kickass chilli, hard boiled egg, ikan billis and rice - but done to perfection. 

Breakfast was quickly washed down with fragrant cups of coffee. This first taste of Penang street food left our stomachs wanting. 

Why we fear silence

Silence remains a rarity in a world that chatters on ceaselessly. It is wonderful when friendship progresses to the point where friends are truly comfortable resting in each other's company in silence, without the need for mindless chatter or to turn to digital distractions.

As we move swiftly and surely into the digital age, we are increasingly confronted with distractions. Indeed, it has become common to see people whipping out their phones when out with friends or loved ones when real life conversations slow momentarily. The quiet moments between friends are shattered by the constant need to fill the void by checking emails and social media, or typing texts to distant bodies. Why can't we just sit in each other's presence?

In my pursuit of a change in careers, I've signed up and attended night classes in subject matters that are related to my areas of interest. My final class was in counselling where we explored the value of silence in therapy. It seems counter-intuitive to use silence in a session that clients pay to attend. Yet I have learnt that the strategic use of silence can be immensely powerful.

Silence is not a void but a space for consolidation, reflection and growth. It allows for deep reflection, and when afforded to someone in crisis, communicates understanding, consideration, and patience - a treasure in our ongoing race for time. 

Recently, I've also came across a post about why God is silent. A friend opined that this silence could be for us to reflect and come up with our own solutions. I have moved on from being religious but can definitely see the value in such an opinion. It is like in person-centred therapy where the counsellor provides a therapeutic relationship and believes in the client's potential for growth and transformation. Isn't finding solutions when one is stuck a sign of maturity? 

As an introvert, I greatly appreciate such moments of solitude and silence. How can you know what to do and where to go, when you haven't taken time to be still and really think?