* * *

What made you decide to follow a less conventional path than typical law school graduates? Was there a particular moment that catalyzed the decision for you?

Girl swinging around a tent in an Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camp in Afghanistan

What do you find most fulfilling about your current job?

Well, I don’t really have a ‘job’ per se. What I find most fulfilling about my life at the moment is the fact that I can spend an entire day writing and call it work! That and getting emails from people every day telling me how my writing and my yoga courses have helped them make some pretty incredible changes in their lives. It’s also not bad determining my own hours, choosing only to work with people who I really like and being able to work from a cottage in a seaside village in New Zealand.

Marianne's new book, just published.

Do you have any advice for professionals who are interested in leaving private practice but concerned about what is out there?

I do.

• Get clear about what difference you want to make in the world (e.g. my boyfriend believes that the answer to many of the world’s greatest challenges lie in the way we eat, so he wants to make a difference to how people think about food and what they eat), and
• Put your energy into what you absolutely love doing (hint, it’s that thing you would happily do all day even if you were never paid for it, the activity you get lost in and suddenly discover hours have passed without you even noticing).

It might not sound much like career advice, but in my experience we have the capacity to be truly brilliant when we are clear about the ‘why’ (the difference we want to make) and when we are pouring energy into our existing passions and natural talents. And true brilliance will find it’s way.

I should note that I live a fairly modest, simple life and that simplifying your life and minimizing your expenses is also a pathway to career freedom. The less you need to earn, the more choices you have.

Marianne in the hills above Chegcharan, Afghanistan

How did your legal education inform the way you see the world today? Do you still identify yourself as a lawyer?

 What do you have to say to those who tell me lawyers can’t have fun?

I say, they need to meet Myron Reducto.

* * *

Marianne trained as a lawyer in New Zealand, lasted a few years in corporate litigation and then spent a decade working as a human rights lawyer. She served with the United Nations in Afghanistan, developed human rights strategies for the governments of New Zealand and Timor-Leste and worked as a policy advisor for Oxfam.Marianne is the author of Zen Under Fire, and a Huffington Post contributor. She’s also a yoga teacher.

Thrillable Hours: Marianne Elliott, the Zen Peacekeeper is a post from: Legal Nomads

Sulemaniye Mosque in Istanbul, shot through a pinhole

While not the usual Myanmar photoessays or posts about Morocco, I wanted to write this short piece to provide a ringing endorsement for my tiny salon in Sultanahmet. Yes, it is slightly ridiculous that I hopped over to a whole new country for a haircut and a few drinks with friends. But having had my locks sheared to bits by a Thai hairdresser and shredded by an Ecuatorian hairdresser, I was fairly excited to find this lovely lady to cut my hair:

Post-haircut smiles

The salon has a man’s shaving and haircut room in the front, and a separate door to lead into the women’s part of the building at the back. It’s a five second walk from Agora Hostel where I tend to stay (personally recommended by a friend and a wonderful base to explore the city) and two extra minutes of walking will put you directly between the Blue Mosque and Ayasofia. Not a bad place to pop in and get a trim.

[Note: I was going to include the bonus fact that the salon has a ridiculously cute duck in front of it, adopted by the block's restaurants and roaming the sidewalks for all to enjoy. However, two days before I returned to Istanbul it was hit by a car and is, in the words of its owner, 'is kaput.’ Sad face.]

The Sultanahmet Duck (RIP)

For those of you interested in a cut or shave of your own:

Kuaför Adil & Sultan
62 Akbiyik Cadessi, Istanbul
FourSquare with Google Map of the location (they’ve got no website).

Next up: a Thrillable Hours interview with a former peacekeeper turned yogi and a crash course for Marrakesh, Morocco.

-Jodi

The Best Haircut I’ve Had on my Travels is a post from: Legal Nomads

I’ve posted some photoessays from my time in Myanmar already – an adventurous train trip up to Myitkyina (now off limits and increasingly violent as ethnic war between Myanmar’s army and the Kachin continues), a solar eclipse by slow boat plying the waters between Bhamo and Mandalay, and a remarkable morning at Thiri Mingalar market in Yangon, wedged between green bananas and piles of ginger. There was also a grumpier post, about the ridiculous bus rides in the country, going from worse to worse-er.

Though I’d written the specific posts, I hadn’t put up all of the corresponding photos. They’re now all up (as well as 5 additional albums from Jordan). A sampler, with links to each album:

From Yangon.

Shwedagon Pagoda in Yangon

From Mandalay:

Nepali food in Mandalay

Shan-style bags in Mandalay

Shwe In Bin team monastery, Mandalay

From Inle Lake:

Fisherman on Inle Lake

Crowded market on Inle Lake

From Bagan:

Balloon rising over Htilminlo Paho at dawn in Bagan

One of the many Buddhas in shadow in Bagan

Monk overlooking the Irawaddy from a pagoda in Bagan

From Myitkyina:

Kachin child and family in Myitkyina

Kachin woman at the Kachin Fair, in Myitkyina

From the long (disastrous) boat ride from Myitkyina to Sinbo to Bhamo:

The Irawaddy near Bhamo, in northern Myanmar (now off limits due to ethnic fighting)

From Moulmein:

Overlooking the Nwa Le Bo Pagoda, Moulmein

From Hpa-An:

Hpa-An's Saddar Caves

And from the Golden Rock:

Prayers at the Golden Rock

Nuns atop the Golden Rock - all smiles until someone took out a camera!

Brought back some wonderful memories to compile this photoessay!

I’m about to leave England after a great few months with my brother, Sarah and their friends. Today I’ll be in Turkey for just a few days, then on the move again – to Jordan for a short work contract, then to Thailand for a few months of writing and eating – and my friend Greg’s wedding to the lovely Aom. I actually don’t need to be in Istanbul again, but my $60 visa (Canada’s visa entry is the highest of all countries) is multi-entry, the food is great, the price was the same as flying LHR to Amman via a Gulf State, and I really need a haircut. My brother has enjoyed telling his friends at work “Oh, my sister’s going to Istanbul for a haircut and some kebap.”

This may be the life a long-term traveller, but I concede it sounds ridiculous. Hilarious, but ridiculous.

I’ve got a bunch of announcements coming up, but for starters I’ll be putting together a newsletter in the coming weeks, to be sent out a few times a month. The content will be mostly links I’ve curated from around the internet, much of which ends up on my Twitter stream. Those of you who follow me there know that I post primarily tech, science and hard news, with a smattering of cute animals in between. Curating the internets is something I used to do as a lawyer too, sending out daily links emails at the end of each day. So I thought it would be fun to bridge the Twitter stream and the blog. It will also give me a chance to share the other projects I’m involved with that aren’t posted here at Legal Nomads.

More to come soon! I’ve still got some service-y posts – where to eat, stay and what to do in Marrakesh, and the same for Istanbul. Then, a series of photoessays from Turkey, most of which will involved food.

-Jodi

Photos from Myanmar: Myitkyina, Inle Lake, Mandalay and More is a post from: Legal Nomads

Foods from Jordan

(Yes, yes I do love collages, thank you very much.)

There are many foods from Jordan that are simple to cook, braising meat with spices, serving over rice or another grain or wrapped in a steaming saj bread. But maklouba (and the even more ornate mansaf) is not one of them. Literally meaning ‘upside down’ dish, maklouba features roasted vegetables, a meat of choice and an accompaniment of spiced rice. But it is presentation that counts here, because these ingredients are not plated side by side. No, that’s too easy. Jordan clearly took a look at pineapple upside-down cake and scoffed “please, we’ve done this for hundreds of years – with meat.”

Ladies and gentlemen, maklouba:

Upside down never looked so good

Please note that this can also be spelled magloubeh, maglouba, makloubeh and ma’aloubeh.

Maklouba is pre-cooked in segments, vegetables first and rice second, folded with a mix of traditionally Middle Eastern flavours – turmeric, cumin, sumac and cinnamon, depending on the recipe. Piled artfully into a pot and cooked over the stove, the whole lot of it is tipped upside down on the plate once complete, revealing the patterns of meat and vegetables below. The rice (used to getting its own plate) is relegated to second billing. Sorry rice – the chicken-eggplant-cauliflower combo is just too good to ignore.

It’s not a difficult dish to make, though it does take separate pots to get it right and takes a few hours. Presentation, however, is key: when you up-end the pot as you serve the dish, you want a neat pile of veg and meat to stare at. Not spilling everything out as you flip over the pot is also key; let’s just say when I tried this at home, the first iteration ended up on the floor.

Spices for preparing maklouba

It’s been fun to experiment with different versions of maklouba, building a tapestry of colours and textures that is only visible when I flip over the dish. I’ve tried it frying up the onions with turmeric first, rendering them yellow, and leaving the rice white. Another version included curls of eggplant skin to add some purple to the end result. Lots of room for creativity here!

Recipe for Jordanian Maklouba

(Adapted from Beit Sitti Cooking School, with some changes)

Ingredients:

1 onion

2 medium sized eggplants

1 cauliflower, cut into small florets

1kg of meat (chicken, lamb or beef works) diced or cut into pieces

2 cups of plain rice

4 cloves of garlic

2 tsp turmeric powder

1 tsp cumin

1 tsp Baharat (“7 spices”). Note: this can be obtained at most Middle Eastern grocers, but if not, you can make your own. The 7 spice blend is a mix of ground spices: black pepper, paprika, cumin, coriander, cloves, nutmeg, cinnamon, cardamom. Go easy on the cardamom if making your own – it’s quite strong!

2 bay leaves

1 cup fresh parsley, chopped

salt & pepper to taste

Optional (but it’s good, trust me): sliced almonds and pine nuts.

Preliminary steps:

• Peel and cut up the eggplant into thick horizontal slices and marinate them in salt for 2 minutes. Wash the eggplant in water to get rid of the salt, and then drain the slices over paper towels.
• Soak 2 cups of rice in warm water with two pinches of salt and 2 teaspoons turmeric powder and leave for 30 minutes.
• In a large saucepan, fry the cauliflower florets and eggplant slices until brown. (Alternatively, these can be roasted.) Put in a strainer until completely drained.
• In the same pan, heat the almond pieces and pine nuts until they are fried. Set aside for later.
• Place meat into a large pot and cover with water. Add in an onion chopped into quarters, the bay leaves the 7 spices mix and cook until meat is done, approximately 30 minutes.
• Remove the meat and season with salt, saving the broth for later in a bowl.

Time to build your pot:

• In your large pot (the one you used to cook the chicken), layer the cauliflower florets and eggplant in a desired pattern, then add the chicken pieces as a third layer.
• Spread the garlic cloves over the meat, and then arrange the rice over it all.
• Add some salt and additional turmeric powder and cumin powder to the chicken stock, then pour it on top of the stack you have just built. Make sure the sauce just covers the rice (2cm over the rice is ideal).
• Cook the saucepan on high heat for 7 minutes, and then cover and simmer for 40-45 minutes.
• When the water has fully evaporated (and the rice is fully cooked) take the pot off the heat and leave to cool.
• Flip the pot onto a serving plate and slowly and carefully remove the pot leaving a your masterpiece in its wake.
• Garnish with fresh parsley and the fried nuts.

-Jodi

Recipe: Jordanian Maklouba, Upside Down and Delicious is a post from: Legal Nomads

It was going to be epic, he insisted.

And you know what? It was.

Team Commonwealth at Hogmanay

Joined by my Australian friends Andrew and Elysia, there were 8 of us in total split into two cars. The Australians drove from London, my brother and his girlfriend and I and our friend Micah from the Cotswolds and his friends Tanya and John, originally from Newfoundland, came in by train to Edinburgh. We immediately dubbed ourself Team Commonwealth, and thanks to Micah’s spelunking for a place to stay, ended up at a giant flat on East Mayfield street, within walking distance to the festivities.

The drive there was dreary, but being a car of people thirsty to learn, we entertained ourselves by reading out the Wikipedia entries for the towns we passed and the memorials we saw along the way. Extra points were given for those who could read in a satisfactory Scottish accent.

Rainy drive to Scotland

Due to some mishaps with directions and/or gridlock traffic (depending on which car you were in – the train people just laughed because they were off drinking in the Highlands on a whisky tour whilst we were suffering), we ended up arriving quite late on the 30th.

Before the festivities began on the 31st, we decided to walk up Arthur’s Seat - conveniently within walking distance of our flat. As with the rock upon which Edinburgh Castle is built, the “seat” was formed by an old volcano, pushed out of the way by a glacier that crawled across Scotland. In the glacier’s path, rocky crags and valleys appeared, which gives Edinburgh its fascinatingly wave-like topology.  (For an interesting take on Edinburgh, see also the Sensory Maps of the city, created to paper smells, tastes and touches). We lucked out – while I almost blew off the summit because of how windy it was, we weren’t rained out and were able to see the city and the water stretching out before us.

View from atop Arthur's Seat in Edinburgh

And practice our jumping shots:

Andrew takes a flying leap over Arthur's Seat

And take photos while trying not to topple off the rock. (I’m not exaggerating either. I spent a good part of my time at the summit crouched low and trying not to fall on my face.)

Windy photo-taking atop Arthur's Seat

On the walk back, we stopped at St. Anthony’s Chapel. Built in the 1100s, it fell into disuse and disrepair after the Reformation in the 1590s. It paints a pretty picture against the backdrop of the city:

The ruins of St. Anthony's Chapel on Arthur's Seat

Happily we did the hike upon arrival because we’d have never managed to do so on New Year’s Day after the night we had.

First, however, there was the matter of Hogmanay itself and where it came from. Wikipedia seemed confused noting that “the roots of Hogmanay perhaps reach back to the celebration of the winter solstice among the Norse,” then suggest it could have also been Gaelic and perhaps the name was French in origin too? Googling other sources provided us with little others consistent etymology, so we put away our computers and took out a bottle of wine instead.  The evening began at home, with leftover Christmas turkey sandwiches (yes, we froze Hester after Christmas, we didn’t just let her grow new mouldy turkey) and generous servings of the aforementioned wine. With some for the road, poured into apple juice bottles.

Elysia and me at Hogmanay, with our portable wine bottle.

A late bus to the festivities, which were spread out on both sides of the Golden Mile and fanning out around the downtown core. It was packed, but astonishingly well organized: self-use computers were set up to pick up tickets bought for the street party, portable toilets at every entrance-way to the grounds, police stationed everywhere and swift bag checks upon arrival. Efficient, easy and simple to start enjoying the eve.

Hogmanay, here we come!

We wandered from stage to stage at the street party, forming a Commonwealth train so we didn’t lose anyone from the group (and taking out a few people in the process – whoops). My brother, the fireworks aficionado, placed us perfectly to watch the show at midnight, whereupon the entire mass of thousands broke into an off-key rendition of Auld Lang Syne.

New Year's Eve fireworks in Edinburgh

Elysia's hands taking photos of the fireworks.

The crowd watching the fireworks show:

Quite the crowd!

Of course, it wasn’t all fun and games. Some moments were actually…quite serious.

Serious Commonwealth is Serious.

Ah, who am I kidding. I needed several takes of this photo because they wouldn’t stop laughing.

While half the group went off in search of toilets, I climbed up on my brother’s shoulders to see the crowds. A very (very) rough video, made rougher by the fact that (1) my brother thought it was funny to whirl me around and (2) it ends with my almost falling off his shoulders:

I did get myself into a bit of a talking-to when I decided no Hogmanay was complete without lifting a kilt or two, which didn’t actually count as the two gentlemen below were actually French and not Scottish. What a waste of kilt-lifting. Still, they cheered up considerably when I switched to French and explained that I was just doing my duty, after which Team Commonwealth duly nodded and resolutely stated the same. The Frenchmen soon chased after a none-too-sober Scottish lass and all was well with the world once again.

Unimpressed Frenchman is unimpressed.

The drive home was as educational as the drive there, stopping off at Hadrian’s wall (my doing my best Hipmunk pose below, in preparation for a post on their site) and reading all about it courtesy of Wikipedia again, since the Discovery Center was closed.

Gleeful on Hadrian's wall on the drive home

We also stopped at a gorgeous priory dating from the 1100s for a quick bite to eat, some coffee and and wander around the old Church grounds:

Lanercost Priory, founded in 1169.

The drive back was close to 10 hours total, but we all found it worthwhile – the pits stops and the beautiful afternoon light was a perfect end to a raucous trip.

A glimpse of sun to end the trip.

For someone who does nothing for New Year’s, these festivities turned out to defy all expectations.  You can check out all of the photos from the weekend here. And a holiday season with my brother and friends was the best way I could think of to ring in a new year.

Happy new year to each and every one of you! May 2012 bring you many wide-eyed adventures, inner peace and – of course – delicious meals shared with friends.

-Jodi

A Road Trip to Scotland for Hogmanay is a post from: Legal Nomads

Oh, is that all?

Talking about the two giant men who tried to bench-press me on a Trans-Siberian train trip, at WDS.

In writing the speech – and as you’ll see as a newbie I wrote it all out – I decided to use my own story and my travels as a basis for my message. Namely, that while it’s worthwhile to follow your dreams, you also need to keep moving along that path even in the face of negativity. It’s not enough to say “I quit my job to travel” and leave it at that – your path (like you) is a work in progress, one that is fraught with challenges. In retrospect, quitting was the easy part. What is difficult, and remains difficult, is the chasm of uncertainty that opens up in front of you the moment you do so. I’ve written about this in some capacity, specifically on the things that long-term travel does not fix, but this is the first time I’ve explained the trajectory in full of why I did what I did, and how.

In telling my story I wanted to make it clear that I wasn’t encouraging people to change their lives in the same way, but rather to use my story as a prism through which they could see their own choices. Or, as I said in the speech “there are always things I could do, so why not risk doing the thing I want to do?”

* * *

I’ve gotten quite a few reader emails asking if I would post my WDS speech, so I thought it was high time to do so. It’s 33 minutes long, and I hope you enjoy.

-Jodi

p.s. Yes, I am fully aware that I spelled my own site name wrong in one of the slides. That, my friends, is what you get for doing your Keynote slideshow on a 10-hour layover in Seoul ;)

On Taking Risks, Long-Term Travel and Finding your Path in Life is a post from: Legal Nomads

This is my favourite travel memory of 2011:

After a summer at home and whirlwind of a fall though South America for a short-term consulting contract, I was back in Asia. I settled into Chiang Mai and got into a routine of eating and reading a writing with my roommate Shannon from A Little Adrift. But I needed to get a new visa, so it was quickly off to Laos, starting in Luang Prabang and weaving my way south to Vientiane.

I got food poisoning in Chiang Mai the night before I left, arriving in Laos a shell of my usual self. I was tired, cranky and annoyed to be a traveler. I wasn’t excited to see the sights or the markets, I wasn’t interested in wandering the river – I just wanted to curl up and sleep.

From the airport, it was a direct shot to town where I dropped my bags and made a beeline for a street stall to get something to eat, since I had nothing left in my stomach after a night of misery. And that something was a bowl of soup – a perfect, beautiful bowl of soup. The broth had hints of cinnamon and was topped in fried garlic, the chicken was tender and the noodles perfectly cooked. The vendor seemed confused as to why I was so excited about his breakfast options, but to me this bowl of soup was a reminder of why food and travel are a perfect pair: what you eat reinvigorates you, it adds a layer of additional texture and brightness to your days. And thus, Laos was no longer simply a new country to discover, it became a place with a myriad of different foods than Thailand, ridiculous chicken bus rides and karst hills that rose from the water. For less than 50 cents, I was completely changed, and reminded that attitude goes along way to making your trip worthwhile. As does, of course, your food.

Plus, we all know chicken soup makes everything better when you’re sick, right?

My full photo-gallery from Laos is here - it was, it turned out, a wondrous trip.

What was your favourite travel memory of 2011? I usually flag links in the comments, but if you’ve posted your own ‘best of’ post, feel free to leave it here. ‘Tis the time for sharing ;)

What Was Your Favourite Travel Memory of 2011? is a post from: Legal Nomads

My weeks in the United Kingdom have been a change from the long days of walking in Turkey and eating through Morocco. It has been lovely to see the life that my brother is building here, and get to meet his friends. Many of my own have moved across the pond as well, and I’ve loved afternoons of catching up in person (for a change!), with an espresso and many memories. My time here thus far has included side trips to London, a New Year’s eve planned for Edinburgh (which looks to be totally insane) and a slower pace from the frenzy of early fall.

English countryside on the train to London

My brother and his lovely girlfriend Sarah, striking a Serious Pose.

Coffee makes the world better.

2011 SantaCon in London

Lunar eclipse rising over London, next to the Gherkin

London Eye from the water's edge.

Holiday season in Ettenbergia is full of music and decorations and tradition, but we’re not the most … craftily-inclined family. We don’t bake very much, we don’t create elaborate snowflakes out of old posters, and we’re certainly unable to sew stockings out of material from an old bridesmaid’s dress. However, my brother’s girlfriend Sarah has done all those things and more, making the flat in England a fun and festive place for all of us.

My brother decided to have an orphan’s Christmas, enlisting Micah (a friend of his from home now living in Cambridge) and his new friends Tanya and Jarvis (from Newfoundland, also living nearby) to join. Sarah invited her cousins from Newfoundland who have also relocated to London and we all contributed to what was one of the more impromptu but hilarious holiday seasons I’ve had.

Cookies were baked (gingerbread ninjas and penguins, and shortbread stars, mushrooms and hearts):

Shortbread and gingerbread cookies, pre-decoration

And then decorated:

Post cookie-decorating extravaganza

Pile of gingerbread ninjas

And eaten in a variety of creative ways:

Penguin shortbread missing a little something...

A 14-pound turkey, promptly named Hester, was stuffed, baked and carved at dinner. (Yes, those are wreath earrings that also happen to flash when turned on. Subtlety is clearly my aim during the holiday season.)

Carving Hester the Turkey for our Christmas dinner

Side dishes were made with style: honey and mustard braised ham, roasted brussels sprouts, sweet potatoes and more.

Christmas Dinner of Champions

And no holiday is complete without special ear-warmers, knitted for the festive season.What, you don’t do this in your homes? (Ok, knitted caps were for Ferrero Rocher chocolates but my ears were cold and it caught on. People at the pub on Bourton-on-the-Water were less enthused.)

Knitted Christmas pudding hats on our ears.

Holiday season in the Cotswolds involves a lot of fun restaurant choices like this old church, converted into a restaurant:

Old church building provides the perfect backdrop for Italian food

Some beautiful sunsets (sadly at 4pm, but that’s what you get for spending the winter solstice in England!)

Sunset in the Cotswolds

And a lot of napping.

Cale napping (with bonus fancy snowflake in the background)

Overall a wonderful week with family and newfound friends, though without my parents and the snow it just wasn’t as perfect as it could have been. I hope everyone had a terrific weekend themselves, and as we say in my family…. Happy Christmakwanzmakkah!

-Jodi

Happy Holidays from England! is a post from: Legal Nomads

What I love about this Q&A series is that it provides exposure to a markedly different group of individuals, each taking the questions and answering it through the lens of the personalities they’ve developed over the years. Some are more practical and ‘tough love’ – “get out there, do it” – and others more gentle in their coaxing. Sibyl falls into the latter category and in my brief conversations with her, I can see how she would be a calming, encouraging presence for those within her orbit.

* * *

What made you decide to follow a less conventional path than typical law school graduates? Was there a particular moment that catalyzed the decision for you?

I wanted to be an attorney for as long as I can remember. I don’t really know exactly why, but from a very young age, I was determined to do everything I could to become a lawyer. I worked really hard in my undergraduate degree so that I could get into a good law school. I then worked really hard in law school to make sure I could get a job at a good law firm. I thought that working at a law firm was exactly what I was meant to do and that after I landed a job at a top law firm … voilà, my dream would have come true and I would feel amazing.

However, that is not what happened at all. I really respect the legal profession and believe certain people are meant to work in law firms. But, I definitely felt like a fish out of water. Nevertheless, it honestly took me some time to get to the point where I decided to follow a more unconventional path. I think I always knew deep down I was meant to do something a little different, but I was extremely pragmatic and risk averse, which made it daunting to even contemplate not following the path that was laid out in front of me.

I now realize the universe will continue to whisper until you work up the courage to listen and move in the direction that is right for you. 

I took two different leaps away from the conventional path for lawyers. My first leap landed me as in-house counsel for an advertising agency, which was an amazing experience. After 10 years at the agency, the universe whispered again. Actually, this time the universe raised its voice a little to make sure I understood, and I came across a 3-foot sign in my hotel room while on a business trip. This is a photo of what it said:

The timing couldn’t have been anymore apt because I had been experiencing a nagging feeling that it was time to move on again, but I was still in need of a little push. This sign in my hotel room was my final “push” (along with a gentle nudge from my husband and my mother) and I realized it was okay to really jump even farther away from the conventional path and follow my true passion.

The lesson I learned that day after seeing that sign was that life really is about creating yourself.

We get to choose how we will act on our passions and what actions we take to become the person we want to be. We really do get to shape our lives, but it is up to us to be bold, confident, take chances and do everything we can to take advantage of our ability to create ourselves.

So, that’s what I did … I took another leap.

What do you find most fulfilling about your current job?

Without a doubt, what is most fulfilling about my current job is the opportunity I have to work closely with people I would have otherwise not met and help them in every way I can while also learning from them. You can have two types of experiences in the blogosphere: you can feel very isolated and on your own since most of your interaction happens virtually, or you can meet extremely interesting people and form great friendships with people all over the world. I have been fortunate enough to have the latter experience and it has been amazingly fulfilling.

Do you have any advice for professionals who are interested in leaving private practice but concerned about what is out there?

My first piece of advice would point to one of my most favorite quotes:

“I have learned that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.”  –Henry David Thoreau

It can be scary to let go of your safety net, but things have a way of unfolding just as they should. The two most important things we must do are: (1) believe in that reality and (2) believe in our potential.

Once you have decided you are truly interested in leaving, you should start creating a plan for how you are going to do what you want. Lay out the steps you are going to need to take to leave your job and the steps you are going to need to take to start your new endeavor. There is something about putting it all on paper that just makes it feel more real and feasible.

Of course, you probably will not know all the steps in the beginning, but as soon as you really start thinking through things, the answers come. However, it is important to take a step (even a small one) every single day because it is too easy to get comfortable maintaining the status quo. You get used to your daily routines and caught up in all the things you have going on. Your current life doesn’t pause so that you can create the life you want. You have to be willing to take chances, change up your routines and make the time to set things up so that you can create the life you want.

How did your legal education inform the way you see the world today? Do you still identify yourself as a lawyer?

My legal education has definitely impacted the way I see the world. I am continually analyzing situations and always trying to see things from more than one perspective. It was a realization that I unfortunately had later in life, but I finally figured out that things are usually multidimensional and not just black and white. I think you can really get at the heart of an issue when you look at it from every angle and my legal training has definitely allowed me to do so. In fact, I continue to identify myself as a lawyer (at least some of the time).

What do you see for yourself in the next five years?

Ideally, I would like more of the same. I have learned so much about myself and life over the last several years and I see things continuing to unfold along the same lines. I plan to continue helping people and learning as much as I can about really living life the way it was meant to be lived.

 What do you have to say to those who tell me lawyers can’t have fun?

I say let’s spend the day together.

* * *

Sibyl Chavis blogs about simple tips for Living Today Better than Yesterday over at The Possibility of Today 

She’s a full time blogger and the author of several eBooks.

You can find her on Twitter and Facebook.

Thrillable Hours: Sibyl Chavis, Author, Blogger and Lover of Life is a post from: Legal Nomads

I never expected to be travelling as long as I have and while I am happy to report that I haven’t lost sight of the wider picture, the tightly stacked memories do tend to blur one into the other after a few years time. However, for some reason, within all of those tangled piles of words and memories and photos, food stands out from everything else. Over the years the most equalizing, fascinating and exciting dots for me to connect have involved what we eat, a way of categorizing our universe in a system I understand. I don’t seem to forget a meal, and have no problem recalling each of the tastes that went into it. When someone asks me about a particular destination, I usually launch into a discussion about what they can eat there instead of what sights are worthwhile to visit. Food figures prominently, but tastes are paramount – what went into the dish to make it special? How did one person cook differently than the next?  And no conversation about taste and flavour is complete without going right down to table level and examining condiments.

Chicken gizzard never tasted so good. A great meal at Kismet Muhallebecisi in Istanbul.

Why Do Condiments Matter?

This summer, I wrote a post called Ode to Spices, explaining that for me food does not just provide a connection to local people, but also an insight into the naturalness of creation that goes into roadside cooking. One egg becomes a multitude things, merely by virtue of two or three other ingredients. The flip side to this coin is to whittle food down to its essential flavours, and then use those flavours as a conduit for learning about history and the cultural quirks of the places I visit. What better place to start than looking at condiments and table spices?

Each country and often towns within them have their own ways of eating, adding extra bits of spice or sourness to an already completed dish. Whereas in North America, condiments are minimal – ketchup, mustard and mayonnaise or steak sauce are as far as most restaurants go – elsewhere they are plentiful, creative and integral to overall enjoyment of the meal. And what we now consider basic table spices were, as many have noted, previously weighed in gold and blood.

Table condiments at a street stall in Marrakesh, Morocco.

Tableside Cumin in Morocco

In my recent travels through Morocco, I found myself in a tiny town called Ouarzazate, a gateway to the edges of Morocco’s Sahara. I had just driven across the High Atlas mountains and down to the parched lands below. I wanted to stop for the night in Ouarzazate before making my way to the end of the road, a tiny dusty town called M’Hamid. Because I have celiac disease, Morocco’s foodstuffs are slightly limited; tagines are not an issue but the couscous and breads that accompany them (and are so integral to eating in the country) are off limits. I took to apologetically explaining in French that my stomach couldn’t handle wheat or bread, and could they please make me eggs instead? Luckily, eggs were available in even the most remote of towns, and an omelette was always delivered with a smile.

While waiting for my breakfast omelette in Ouarzazate, I looked down at the table and saw three table condiments waiting for me: cumin, salt and pepper.

Table spices in Ourzazate, Morocco.

Pepper has little redeeming nutritional value, but is one of the more historically significant spices of them all, growing as a perennial climbing vine endemic to the lower slopes of the Western Ghats on India’s Malabar coast. Malabar was central to the global spice trade for centuries, in large part due to the pepper harvest. The European discoverers were looking for Malabar when they set off, seeking a new route to a mystical world, one where pepper and other spices (cloves and mace, as well as nutmeg) grew in abundance. Though pepper is now harvested elsewhere too, no examination of the spice is complete without tracing it back to its source in the tropics of India.

We all know salt, of course – also a source of much volatility and fighting over the years. Mark Kurlansky’s book of the same name, Salt, is an ideal micro-history of the mineral and food preservative. I won’t delve into its background here, but I do highly recommend the read. It’s a fascinating snapshot of how history might have been different had salt not existed.

The difference in Morocco, of course, is the cumin. Many of us in North America associate cumin with Mexican food, but the spice originated elsewhere, in Mediterranean countries and in Persia.  And as Jack Turner notes in Spice: A History of Temptation,

“Locally produced seasoning had been used in the Mediterranean world since at least the time of the ancient Syrian civilization of Mari, late in the third millennium B.C., where inscriptions on clay tablets record the use of cumin and coriander to flavour beer. When Rome was still a village, Greek cooks knew a host of different seasonings.”

While it is prevalent in many Mexican dishes in North America, Mexican food itself chooses to make use of cumin more sparingly, relying on more traditional staples such as chiles, oregano, cilantro, epazote, cinnamon, and cocoa. Some websites falsely claim cumin an integral ingredient to foods from Mexico, but it has historically been found elsewhere, such as Morocco. In Morocco, cumin is everywhere – when not on the table as in the photo above, a quick wave for the waiter will get you a small bowl filled with the khaki powder and an approving nod, as if to say “one who asks for cumin to accompany their meal clearly knows how to eat food.”

Pickling in Turkey

While the Turkish table often includes the same salt and pepper we’re accustomed to in North America it also houses a tiny jar of chili powder and, inevitably, something pickled. Known as turşu, pickled eats are certainly not isolated to Turkish food, but they are almost everywhere and considered a necessity. As Turkeys for Life notes on their blog, “They are just a fact of life in Turkey. You eat pickles with your food.”

While we tend to think of pickling as relating to pickles themselves, very little is off-limits in pickle-crazy Turkey. Cucumbers, eggplant, cabbage, chilis, carrots, onions – you name it, all pickled in grape vinegar, salt and spices. There are even stores where you can bring your produce and pick it up later, pickled to satisfaction.

Pickled chilis as condiments in Istanbul, Turkey.

Pickling was historically a way to preserve food for long journeys, to increase the flavour and inject some vitamins into your meal (during the fermentation in pickling, bacteria produce vitamins as they digest vegetable matter and can result in enriched products). Its useful genesis aside, pickled vegetables remain a much-loved condiment in Turkey. While I will write more about the wonderful foods from the country, this historical holdover shouldn’t be ignored. Plus, a jar of bright pickled vegetables on a street stall table is always a welcoming sight.

 Za’atar in Jordan

What cumin is to Morocco, za’atar is to Jordan, available on almost every table and easily accessible if absent. When used in Jordan, za’atar refers to a blend of herbs and spices such as thyme, oregano, savoury and often sumac and sesame. Added in the morning to fresh pita, later on in the day to salads and on meat dishes its prevalence is unmissable. In addition, its history is fascinating because no one seems to be able to agree where it came from. The word za’atar has been used to mean a spice blend from Jordan, Syria or Lebanon, a variety of thyme plant in Egypt (then called saem), and the majorana syriaca plant used so frequently that it has been harvested to the brink of extinction. Digging up a definitive history can lead one as far back as Biblical times, with no clear answers.

When in Jordan, several people told me that za’atar had medicinal properties, that it helped memory sharpness and stomach troubles. The same statements were repeated elsewhere in the Middle East many years ago, when I first tried za’atar around my 13th birthday.  Regardless of provenance (and perhaps a small bit because of it) it’s a delicious addition to any meal.

Za'atar from Jordan

A Circle of Flavours in Thailand

Thais tend to customize their food once it arrives on the table. While we would think it offensive to receive a dish and then start liberally adding new tastes, such is the norm in most of Thailand. Much like eating utensils in the country (chopsticks for soups, spoon and fork for rice dishes and hands for Northern Thai food), what you add depends on the food used.

As my friends in the country have noted, every Thai has a personal ritual when they receive a dish, their very own meditation on how to increase the heat or sweetness of their meal. Streetside stalls and fancy restaurants alike will have a puang kreuang prung on the table (literally, a circle of seasonings) a plastic or metal holder with a quad of additional condiments: naam plaa (fish sauce), prik pom (chili powder), prik naam plaa (chopped chilis in fish sauce, sometimes in vinegar instead), and sugar. Each of my Thai friends had a different way of eating their foods, but all modified based on a mixture of the hot, sour, salty and sweet rules, with emphasis on one flavour coupling.

Much has been said about Thai food and the complexity of its composition, but it always made me smile to see a flavour-filled dish come out of the wok, only to be re-layered in taste before it is consumed. Especially when the “circle of seasonings” came in a baby bottle, as with my favourite pad thai stall on the streets of Chiang Mai.

Chili flakes and sugar on a Chiang Mai table (in a baby bottle).

Chili, Lime and Onions in Laos

Contrary to its sweet-tooth neighbour, Thailand, savoury foods in Laos are not served with a jar of sugar on the table. Instead, dishes are sometimes quite bitter, often spicy and more salty than I was used to. Another difference is the table accompaniment: instead of the circle of spices, a large plate of fresh herbs and lime, chili and green onions is plonked down in front of you, shared by all. Fresh mint and dill, rarely used in Thai foods, were often on the platter and liberally added to soups and meat dishes.  While many compare the foods from Laos to those of Northern Thailand, there are subtle differences between Laos and its neighbours. To me, the plate of table condiments is both a perfect companion to the savoury foods in the country and a great stepping stone to examining the eating habits as a whole.

Tableside flavour at a street stall in Luang Prabang, Laos

* * *

It might seems strange in a world full of flavour and texture to devote a full post to condiments and table spices. The examples above are by no means exhaustive, but rather a snapshot of some fun and interesting options as I’ve eaten my way around the world. The way that I see food and travel, inexorably intertwined, isn’t just about tastebuds. On one level, the tastes themselves: each of the foodstuffs that make up the dish.  But superimposed on all these different colours and tastes, the histories of each. How did a particular food get to be prevalent in this place? How was it originally seen as something of value, and where?

So, condiments and table spices. Simple, sometimes funny (when served in baby bottles) and often overlooked.  But you’d be doing yourself and your destination a disservice in ignoring what is placed on your table as you travel. Right in front of you, a long history of why people eat the way they do and the food culture that has grown around it.

-Jodi

Condiments from Around the World (And Why They Matter) is a post from: Legal Nomads