Durian

It's doubtful that any of my Manhattan friends reading this blog have smelled a skunk. In LA, your first experience of eau de skunk happens at night in a car in one of the many canyons connecting the main city to the Valley. Polecats have poor eyesight so their road kill version is what lingers in the car a while later---unless you roll the windows down immediately. The actual smell burns your nostrils=it's acrid and aggressive to the point of driving The Smeller to a sopping washcloth and a bar of soap.

My first experience with durian was different but somewhat familiar. I was walking through a Chinatown alley amidst a handful of green grocers. With Leica in left hand, I was determined to shoot whatever groceries I saw before buying. The thought was knocked right out of my head as my nostrils were assaulted by THE foulest smell EVER. I checked the bottom of my shoes--twice--then tentatively crinkled my nose for a small sniff. "Whoa!" was all I could manage. A broad-faced Malaysian woman with a toothy grin cackled and pointed. My eyes full of 'onion tears' scanned the area where her rough hands indicated. Nothing registered. She spritely bounded over to this small pile of large, spiny, oval, green landmines as I winced and finally made the connection. In broken Engrish she innocently asked, "Some taste? Want some taste?" I probably said something like, "Fuck no", because all I really wanted to do was stick my head into the silver mound of fish I seemed to be involuntarily diving into at that moment. Yes, durian described by afficionados in Indonesia and Malaysia as the 'King of Fruits', had introduced itself to me in a big way. [At this point, the camera somehow made its way back into my pocket---hence, no photo essay.]

Since then, I've tagged the general concept of the stench in my mind as "NYC August garbage strike" to make it more understandable. But I still wince when I catch a whiff of it. Its ivory-colored, eggroll sized nuggets of fleshy meat are not only eaten as raw delicacies, but it's also made into ice cream pops! Recently I bought a box of 6 pops: Mango, Corn and Durian after circling the frozen foods section three times. I couldn't tell you what they do to beat the skunk-ass foulness out of it, but the durian pops weren't too terribly bad. My rationale was tempered by my eventually liking the objectionable taste of Limburger cheese and also certain romantic operas/or any music by ABBA. So, I figured: if I'm gonna do this journey thing right, I'd better not shut down the sensors just yet. After all, this funky fruit has captured this culture enough to have influenced its architecture---when you consider it, that's quite a powerful legacy.

check out this link:

http://architecture-buildingconstruction.blogspot.com/2007/11/esplanade-by-night-singapore.html