Dépaysement (nm)—an untranslatable French word that “can mean anything from disorientation to culture shock. The word is formed from the word pays or ‘country’ and would literally mean something like ‘to be uncountried’. Dépaysement is the feeling one gets of not being in one’s own country, of being a foreigner.”
While the concept of brunch can apparently “be partly traced back to the upper-class British tradition of hunting luncheons,” it’s the Americans who popularised Sunday brunch, complete with boozy drinks. I’m neither British nor American, but I’ve always enjoyed the idea of having a laid-back morning somewhere between “very early” and “oh no the day is half over” while enjoying a spread of eggs, pancakes, coffee, and juice while musing over life with good friends.
It’s a natural response when encountering the new or unknown, be it a person, place or thing—human beings size up whatever is before them, instinctively deciding whether it’s a friend or foe, a threat or an opportunity.
I am a so-called ‘third-culture’ kid. I am one type of Asian with mixed ancestry, raised in another Asian country with a completely different culture, studied in Chinese, British, American, and Canadian schools, speak four languages and later worked and lived in Russia and Europe.
When wine is served in beautiful crystal glasses by Swiss-trained waiters in three-Michelin-star restaurants, it’s difficult to let the imagination travel back to this fermented beverage’s humble beginnings. Long before it became a bubbly that can push a cork out with a hearty pop, and long before it acquired the grace to flow smoothly out of an expensive bottle, it hung loosely and peacefully on a grapevine, constantly handled by rough suntanned hands in a family vineyard halfway across the world.