My best buddy always sez if ever one is to open a business in Toronto, a food joint would be a good investment. People here are forever eating. Haa I am hungry now, btwn dealing with the printer, rushing to Genet's and the Green festival ... I neva had the chance to eat something.Note to self: I gotta take care of the body.



ahh My Toronto is Multicultural. We have just about everyone from each country in the world and with them they bring their cultures and food. So now I am hungry, any thing will be great. I could go to Swiss Chalet... but I don wanna go into that place and sit alone...and am not really feeling chicken.. nor am I feeling Sharwamas - other side of the street seems to be Sharwama central.. So I plod on along Yonge street. By now i am at College Park. And there are some hot Dogs....reminds me of the time when we'd just got here , this was one of the things we loved about Downtown Toronto , the hot dogs. They sure smell good but... Did I mention I am very fussy when it comes to my food. So I pass on the hot dogs as inviting as they seem. It is a hot day... how long have those raw sausages been sitting out there...and the condiments..most of them ought to be in the fridge, pple been passing by, some sneezing smoking and who knows wat else they might be spicing those sausages with. Then I am wearing white... don want no ketchup and mustard accesorizing my outfit!

I hit College Park , and it is then that I come across Rich Tree (I've always wondered why it is called Rich Tree, I secretly think its because the food there is pricey it was made for the rich, in pocket) I get in the salads are inviting...but I aint about to do a salad...this gal be hungry, I finally settle for a curried seafood pilaf, and I decide I'll treat myself to a dessert- bread pudding, and what could be more refreshing than a lemonade on a hot day. I look around...the small dainty tables are so European, but why waste a pleasant day indoors when I can just chill oustide, under those umbrella's and maybe just maybe I might read a few pages of the book.

My plate is loaded with veggies, the colour scheme is happening just the way my mother would have loved her plate... Oh that was back in the day when Zim was the land of milk and honey, now Zim is the land of dry bones , you settle for wat you can get, forget the nutritional value of that meal as long as it can fill you up and keep u going. How sad!

I come back to reality when I realize that a small speck of rice has fallen on my bust...kanje icurry kayiphumi...oh well not much damage done....its still a beautiful day and my meal is mnandi,(in my word there is no such thing as calories...watever it is that I'm packin on right now, I'll walk it off. Food is meant to be enjoyed not to enslave people..how are u expected to enjoy your meal when u know u want it...is there any point in leaving that plate half empty when your tum tum is telling u it's half full?) nothing will dampen my spirits, not even the lemonade that is just too sweet. There is a cool breeze, and pple sitting on the lawn abanye waqethukile... I open my book and I read... and read ..and read...then I feel it...the heat is right on my arm. Damn I don want a tan, even though some people believe I have a tan....already ( Percola wasn't the only one trying to have the bluest eyes....yeah maybe I aint aiming for the bluest eyes... but I sho as heck won't sit in the sun and let it bake me till I am mntshwankela black....no thank you!)

So I decide to continue with my journey, my toes and fingernails are screaming S.O.S. I need to get me a mani-pedi. Ahh My Toronto...is relaxing. No one knows how many lil spas there are in this place. The nail industry here is dominated by the Chinese and the Vietnamese. I think the Nail Cup goes to the Vietnamese..though if u ask me all of them are same fanana. I get in pick my shades and I'm assigned a chair. And now men come and get their feet and hands hooked up too...not too long ago men who took care of their feet and hands were thought to be gay... but things have changed. Quite frankly I think its a good thing....something I'll explain briefly in one of the next blogs..just don hold your breath it might be a while...before u get the next one.

I hook up with bhururu once I'm done and she likes...now sengikhathele... she tells me she has prepared dinner at her place... ah some friends are angels shuwa! that's why she is my friend ...she cooks....just kidding there is more to our bhururuness than food! Dins is good, she offers me a breezer...I take one sip and dose off... I am exhausted.

When I wake up I head home, and I think of all the faces that are knitted together to make this city... I live close to Little India, I work with Grenadians, Filipinos, a Fellow Zimbabwean, Polish , Dutch, Guyanese, and Ghanaians. Our Clientele, is made up of Irish, English, Scottish, German, and Srilankan people. The cabbie who took me to the hairdressers' was probably Indian, my hairdresser is from Djibouti... my nails were done by a Vietnamese lady. My landlord is French Canadiana...My Toronto is...united nations...and with this I think this is going to be my last thought of the day. Wat do you kno, its raccoon mating season....they are up in the tree beside my room. Raccoons are very noise and tonight on Dagmar Ave asibuqothi ubuthongo....the world gotta kno its hanky panky time for the raccoons... darn it...kungabantu i'd say get a room, then again this tree might just be their lil hotel room.And i am not even hating on them creatures... i am in need of some sleep.Tomorrow i gotta put together three different portfolios. I gotta get out of bed and look for those ear plugs... and I'm off to dream land!