A Ritual to Remember

As you probably recall, the purpose of this trip to India was to complete the 1 year death rituals for my FIL to 'cleanse' the family of the death.  We strategically planned it for June 9, the day before Shivali's 3rd birthday, because you should not celebrate any holidays or events during that one year post death and it was necessary for us to be super clean by June 10th so we could throw a party.

A few details about these rituals I was not privy to:

1. You cannot eat non-veg food the day before and the day of the ritual.  Not a big deal for most people here as being a vegetarian is India is as common as being chunky in America.  However, we aren't raised like this and there are times it can pose a challenge, but between rice, Indian spicy mixed vegetables, and the mac and cheese boxes we brought from home we managed just fine. 

2. Roy was supposed to shave his head. There are only 2 times in a Hindu males life when he shaves his head- when his father dies and again when his mother dies. (Unless he is balding, then I think anything goes)  Of course, like everything here they are technicalities and loopholes to consider and the ever present absence of details.  Apparently on the 1 year anniversary ritual of the mother and father's death he should also shave his head, so obviously I was not thrilled about that idea but it is not something I can do more than roll my eyes about.  The good news is that the relatives decided it was not necessary, so my husband's beautiful head of hair is still fully intact.

The rituals were set to take place around noon, so Roy is not supposed eat or hardly drink prior.  I partially feel bad for him, but on the other hand, it is always the women in Hindu religion that do all the fasting and sacrificing so I think if he has to skip a few meals for the sake of his Father he will be just fine.

Roy showered and dressed in his basic white cloth that the priest brought along and prepared for what would amount to 3 hours sitting cross-legged on the marble floor.  I am always amazed to watch this priest do his thing because I can't decide if he is just really methodical or he makes it up as he goes along.  He systemically puts flowers together with leaves and nuts with rice stirred together in a small pot.  He puts incense sticks into tiny bananas and chants in Sanskrit to an almost song-type melody.  He is quite interesting to watch and has commented to the family before how intently I watch him, although I think he is just accustomed to Indian behavior at religious events which consists of tuning in and out, talking and walking out of the room for undefined periods of time.

When it was all said and done, everyone was exhausted and we feasted on a meal of rice with Mutter Paneer (Peas and cheese) and just lounged around.   Roy and I decided to go out and order a birthday cake for Shivali's birthday and maybe grab a snack.  I feel bad for not bringing her birthday present along, but it is huge and we all know a 3 year old can only handle so many presents at once.

I was surprised to learn that apparently one of the Aunts suggested we have another type of auspicious ritual for Shivali's birthday to celebrate the cleansing as well as bless her. Apparently it is a bad omen to even imply that ritual shouldn't happen after someone else suggests it, but I was pretty much ritualed out at that point.  For whatever reason they decided the priest should come over again at 7am the next morning.  Knowing we hardly ever go to bed before 11 or midnight, I wasn't sure how this would be possible but at least it would give me something to write about.

I woke up this morning around 6:30 and panicked for a second thinking I wouldn't have enough time to be ready (everyone in the house needs to be showered and the house should be clean before the priest comes).  I quickly jumped into the shower thinking I would be one of the first done and then be able to lounge around.  I shouldn't have been surprised upon existing our room to find everyone else still sleeping at 7am.  They were shocked I was ready and Naked Uncle commented 'That is the reason her country runs so smoothly and ours is a mess' or something to that degree.   The priest didn't show up until at least 11 this morning and this time I did feel bad for Roy who again couldn't eat before the ritual.

These rituals are shorter and less complicated and luckily involve no head shaving, big white bed sheets, or multiple hours on the floor.  They do, however, involve a fire which is generally my favorite part. This time all various fruits were cut up and offered to the god, which will eventually be blessed and ours to eat. I was happy to see they got pomegranate and watermelon- yum.

It is always interesting to me to watch how into the rituals the older women are.  Although I don't understand everything and it is a tad ritualistic for my taste, I always admire people with such passion and dedication to anything.  They take the rituals every serious and cherish every item blessed by the priest like it is made of gold.  It isn't until the priest leaves that everyone complains about him, including his lack of punctuality and his blunt request for additional fees.  Like most things in India, even the ritual process is contradictory and confusing.

I guess tonight we are going out shopping, which I always enjoy.  Still not sure what is going on the rest of the trip as I also learned the relatives are staying until the 15th which is just a day and a half before we leave.  As always, I somehow manage to adjust and even find myself enjoying our interaction (although 99% through translation).  We spent a large amount of time this morning (while waiting for the priest) talking about America and how things are done, how homes are built, money, food, etc. I truly appreciate their willingness and desire to learn about my world and never wanting to impose theirs on me.

Home is where the heart is....

As I am finishing up the last packing of our 8 suitcases in preparation for our 1:40am departure I always like to reflect on my time in India.

India and I have a love-hate relationship. Neither one of us like to adjust much, but expect the other to conform to our individual standards. In the end, we both end up bending in a little and somehow we end up getting along. 

It might be the auto rickshaw driver who tries to talk some broken English to me because it may be the one and only time he has transported a white person, or the returned smile that speaks no language but instantly connects strangers as both humans. It is these times when India feels way less foreign to me and maybe somewhere I could live part time someday- who knows.

I woke up at 2am last night and everything was quiet outside- not just India quiet, but truly silent with no dogs barking or bikes going by and there was the most glorious cool breeze coming in the window. Like an apologetic child, Bangalore was seemingly sorry for the torture it puts me through everytime I visit.

No hard feelings Bangalore, you know I'll be back.

Strictly Indian, but I have tried it...

Having been to India 6 or 7 times now, I have witnessed some things here that I have never seen or heard of anywhere else. Some are odd, others endearing, but all are unique to India and I'm proud to say I have tried them all.

• Eating on the floor

• Eating with my hand

• No TP bathrooms

• Washing my clothes in the shower with me and hanging them out on the roof to dry

• Street food

• Sharing bottles of water with large groups of family members without putting your mouth on the bottle

• Riding in an auto rickshaw all over town and knowing by sight which ones will be more comfortable and spacious 

• Not flinching when the motorcycle you are on squeezes between 2 buses just to continue weaving in and out or bumper to bumper traffic while avoiding frequent speed bumps and the occasional dog, cow, and person

• Butting ahead in line because I can

• Wearing a 5lb fully hand beaded silk sari all around town with 22k gold jewelry- and fitting in just fine (and loving it!)

• Waving off beggars and street vendors with a flippant hand gesture and firm NO

• Touching your elder's feet when they arrive and leave (and watching them gush  and melt over the gesture)

• Automatically moving off to the side at the sound of a horn beep (and not panicking) in a place where cars and motorcycles shouldn't be, but they are ultimately always present

I am positive there are more, but that is all I can think of now. I'll do a part 2 if I can come up with more.

It's not a zoo...

Although Roy called it a zoo, probably for the purpose of Shivali's understanding I soon found out that Bannerghatta National Park was more of a nature preserve than animals in cages, which I liked.

We had rented the same type of van/driver that we used to go to Mysore the day before but luckily the drive is only a fraction of the distance.  We had the whole family along today as it was a Saturday and everyone was available, all 13 of us!

We decided to first go on the Safari which is the highlight if the park. It was still cool and the crowds were low, so best to take advantage now. We boarded a big bus with bars on the windows, and just a small hole to view out but there was a glass partician you could pull over the window in the event an animal tried to attack you (I am guessing)

The safari was something like the Kiliminjaro Safari at Disney's Animal kingdom, except authentic and way more rustic.

The animal groupings are separated by fences with gates the bus enters through. We first saw bears, and yes the walk right up to the bus

Then elephants

And my favorite, the lions and tigers

These two circled the bus for a few minutes and we got some good shots.

Outside of the safari, there was the a few caged animals and a playground and eating area. I managed to find a few funny moments like this sign- not sure what this all involves:

Oh and this wild dinosaur...oh no it's just Naked Uncle:

 Oh and here is our zoo watching their zoo

And the ever present photo sessions!

Oh and if you ever wondered how many relatives you can fit in a bedroom, here is the answer:

A new side of Bangalore...

After a long day out shopping and bumming around town, Roy tells me he wants us to go out with his good friend and his wife we have not yet met. I have to say, I wasn't thrilled about the idea but reluctantly agreed to go. 

He said I should dress up and we would be going to a bar. Now, I have seen the little roadside bars here that guys typically would stop at to just load up a little and go home and hoped this wasn't what he had in mind.

Roy's friend recently purchased a car which makes travel a heck of a lot easier and more comfortable for us. As we arrived near the location, the scenery changed a little. Instead of the typical roadside shops and broken streets, there were high end stores like Diesel and Louis Vuitton (yes you heard me right.... who would have guessed Bangalore had a LV store???) oh and there was also a Porshe and Lamborghini dealership (why haven't I been brought to this part of town before???)

We parked in the underground garage and as we walked through there was an unusually high concentration of Audis, Mercedes, and BMWs in the lot. The lower floors we entered through is a high end mall with elaborate marble floors and glass chandeliers. We entered the elevator for the 16th floor.

As soon as the doors opened, I knew I wasn't in Kansas anymore. As if straight out of a movie we walked out onto a red carpet with giant elaborately decorated double doors being managed by 2 giant guys in full black suits standing behind a velvet rope. Although there was a long line of people waiting to get in, the guys took one look at me and immediately opened the rope and ushered us in.

Walking inside you could have sworn you were in any big US city, in fact it was more elaborately decorated than almost anywhere I have been outside of Vegas.

The real surprise was outside on the roof top dance floor. It is open air with a multi-colored lighted dance floor which is literally packed with beautiful people. Between the giant muscle guys and the girls in skirts shorter than some underwear I own, I didn't know where to look first. Between the drunks and the all out dancers, I had a great time just watching. The music was mainly English and super loud, and the view of the city was outstanding. 

I was really happy I got to see this side of Bangalore and next time will definately bring my camera!

"When are we going to see the Princess?"....

This was Shivali's only question when we arrived at Mysore Palace yesterday.  I didn't even think about it previously because I had been there before and knew it wasn't anything like Cinderella's Castle, but I guess to a 3 year old the mention of visiting a palace would assume there is some sort of a princess involved. (Her expression in this picture is priceless)

After several days of staying at home and following the relatives normal routine of sleep, eat, sleep, eat we decided it was time to get out and see something. There are several places within a couple of hours drive that we could have traveled to, but the majority of the family wanted to see Mysore and even though I had seen it before I was happy to get out and do something.

We rented a large 12 person van and driver for 18 hrs+ at the rate of just $100- a pretty good deal if you ask me, especially split between multiple families.   The van was set to arrive at 6am, which meant we set an alarm at 5am in typical American style, but what I didn't remember is we aren't in America.  So although I was up, showered, dressed and basically ready to go by 6 I found that most relatives were not yet out of bed and were casually lounging around at 5 minutes to 6.   Roy announced that the driver called and said he was running late and would be there within an hour. I think people here count on things happening late, which is why they are never on time (and so the cycle runs on)

I think we finally left somewhere around 7:30 am, feeling all excited and happy in our roomy A/C van.  The scenery to Mysore is really nice, with rolling hills and open hi-ways for at least part of the time.  I always enjoy traveling throughout India and just watching out the window for all the interesting sites available here.  Early morning you find the people out doing their morning 'business' by the Hi-way, as well as people brushing their teeth on the street and rushing around to wherever they need to go and equally as many standing around doing nothing.

I saw a lot of horse carts pulling wagons full of various items, mixing in with the hi-way traffic like they are meant to be there. As always, there are a lot of people walking and crossing the crazy traffic, including many small school aged children.

As we get into Mysore, our first stop is at a famous ancient temple that is honored with thousands of street vendors who attack you the moment you get out of the car.  Our first attack was on Shivali who was offered a horse ride up to the temple entrance. The horses looked healthy and happy, and of course Shivali was thrilled with the idea so we paid the buck or so and were on our way. Inside the temple looks shockingly similar to the entrance to the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyworld, only authentic.  Its pretty cool and always really enlightening to me to see how devoted Hindus are.

After visiting a second temple high up on the hill, we headed off to the palace.  My understanding is there is a royal family member or several members who stay there during certain festival times, but most of the time the palace is on display as a tourist attraction.  For whatever reason, attractions in India require a 'camera fee' to take your camera inside. I guess it is just a secondary way of making money, but dumb and unnecessary in my opinion and luckily it is not well monitored or regulated so decided I was going to sneak a few pictures this time.  And actually there are no cameras allowed in the palace, but I bootlegged a few anyway.

Is this GORGEOUS or what???

In true royal form, they give camel and elephant rides out back of the palace.  I normally don't like these things because I know these animals are not treated well typically, but Vali insisted and I think Jordan had a good time as well.

A few things about traveling around India make me a little crazy:

• The heat.  Even with a nice breeze and pleasant weather we have been having, being out in the sun for just a short while turns me into a melted pile of human.
• The crowds.  It doesn't seem to matter if it is mid week or weekend, early morning or late at night the crowds are always out.  It is exhausting and wearing on my patience to always be lost in a sea of people.
• Habits of the crowd.  Indian people have a bad habit which emulates their driving, basically it is like playing chicken. They charge right into you almost to see if you will move or not.  It is tiring and annoying, but sometimes I take advantage by seeing how many people I can get to move by either my intimidating height or just the fact I look different.
• Lack of lines.  Another notorious Indian habit is the seemingly inability to form a line of people to enter anything.  Again, in driving style it is just a mad push with no regard for age, gender, or position.
• Staring or worse.  Having traveled here many times, I am well aware of some people's limited exposure to white people. It gives me the feeling that people with disabilities back home probably get, as far as the long blank stares and curious double-takes.  I notice it more when traveling outside of Bangalore to more remote areas.  Some are just innocent curiosity, but some are borderline creepy.  Oh and most confusing feelings come from my own personal paparazzi that inevitably show up at most attractions we are at.  Some are discreet and pretend to take a picture of their friend who just happens to be standing in front of me, but others boldly run after me taking pictures.  It is an odd feeling that doesn't really make me feel flattered or scared, just odd- like, what are they doing with it? Framing it?

We didn't get home until midnight and were all hot and exhausted and feeling kinda like this:

Family trip day 2 just came to an end.  I am way to tired to talk about it now, but will hopefully be all recharged in the morning.

Please turn down the volume India....

What became very obvious to me from the first time I arrived is India is not a quiet place.  It wouldn't be somewhere you would want to go to relax or retire for piece of mind.

I was awoken this morning by the sound of what seemed like someone throwing large rocks from one metal structure to another, over and over. I finally got irritated enough to insist Jordan close both the windows in spite of the heat.  Mornings are generally the worst because people are out selling vegetables and various other items via bicycle yelling with their 'signature' call as they slowly meander through the streets.  There is the paper guy, the onion guy, the potato guy, the broom guy, the rug guy, and the plastic bucket guy.  They must spend hours getting their bike all loaded up and ready to go and I can only imagine how many miles and hours per day they do this.

Also in the morning ladies are outside beating their laundry on the rooftop or out back, with their rhythmic hits of wet clothing over and over on rocks or grated structures designed for this purpose. Along with this, although we stay in a rather quiet neighborhood (as far as India goes) there are always motorcycles and loud vans and trucks driving by none of which have ever heard of a muffler.

Now, my most favorite noise nuisance here in India is the constant horn honking and beeping.  Indians love to honk to alert you of their presence or to alert you that you did something incorrectly.  It isn't just here and there as we are accustomed to in the US, but literally constantly with never a time where it isn't present.  We drove into the city last evening and outside of the horrendous traffic, the constant honking was so incredibly annoying I  almost dove out into traffic.

People here themselves aren't overly quiet, they slam doors and move things around constantly without a lot of regard to those sleeping or resting.  It doesn't matter the hour either late at night or early morning you can always count on a lot of noise activity. Nobody seems particularly bothered by it (as normal) which almost makes me more irritated.  I think a lot about 'tolerance' when  I come to India and how the high tolerance level here is both a blessing and a curse.  Not demanding more or better is a big source of the lack of change here, but on the other hand for someone like me to come here and be able to experience how warm and welcoming people are is much due to their tolerance.

Lets talk about animals a moment. There are always dogs barking, sometimes at night it is like constant dog fights out in the distance. They are growling and snarling and scaring the heck out of me, but luckily we are on the 3rd floor and they would never get up here.  Then there are the various cows mooing through the streets looking for food (I learned that the food items which are used during the religious rituals are later fed to cows, which I liked as opposed to wasting it), as well as the periodic goat.  There are lots of doves outside our window, big ones that make those annoying morning dove noises in the early hours.  I have heard monkeys at times, but not in our area, they are usually by the temples or jungle type areas (although I saw one at Dominos pizza once)

Oh, and I have to mention the constant chatter of my relatives talking in Bengali, most of which I do not understand.  I periodically hear my name and a few key words I understand in which I attempt to craft a story around, but other than that, it again is background noise to me.

As I am typing, the big rock guys are hard at it again. I still haven't figured out exactly what it is they are doing, but they are shouting back and forth to each other with a background score of various beeps, bird calls, and roaring engines. Like an old time movie, it becomes an enhancement of the landscape and something I begin to not notice over time.

Where the major differences lie.....

As I was laying in bed this morning trying to go back to sleep, I had an idea for this post. Although I wanted to continue sleeping, I was unsuccessfully blocking out the sounds of street vendors calling out their various wares as they travel through the neighborhood (so help me God if I ever remember to keep eggs near the bed they are going to get it), random dogs barking everywhere, and the squeak of the bathroom door I have begged Roy to oil as the 12 relatives go in and out of the bathroom each morning.

I started thinking about the things that make India feel really different for me and came up with the major 4:   Food, clothing, shelter, and money.

Lets start with food:  Coming from a place where variety and accessibility is king, sometimes being in India is very frustrating in the food department for me. I have grown accustomed to many Indian foods and quite enjoy many different items, but the reality for me is most of it tastes so similar (having the same basic ingredients and spices) that my flair for variety shortly begins to ache for something different.  I really do try my best to go along with it, but at times like this where we have many relatives staying with us, the differences in our eating styles becomes really evident.   I flip flop between wanting to fit in and wanting to stand out and be proud of my differences.  I may never know which is 'right', but I truly try my best to balance both the opinion of everyone and my own self happiness.

In addition, the timing of eating here is vastly different.  People don't seem to be big on breakfast and frequently wonder around for many hours in bed clothing and without showing before even thinking of having any type of breakfast (outside of tea which seems to be a mandatory).  While I prefer toast or cereal, most people here want noodles or some local foods which are less than appealing to me.  It puts us in a awkward spot of knowing whether to just cook up some toast and eat it or wait and see what everyone is going to do. (I write this as I sit starving at 9am)

The other daily meals are not at all scheduled or seemingly planned. Maybe someone knows what we are having and when, but I am not privy to this information. Most dinner meals are served well after 9pm or later, and people seems perfectly ok to sit on the floor with plates and small bowls and eat with their hands. There is a small dining table here, but people rarely sit at it.

I also sit and watch my MIL and oldest SIL make, serve and re-serve the entire group prior to even considering sitting down to eat themselves.  They don't' seem at all concerned about the food being cold or lacking by the time their turn comes to eat.  I have always watched my own mother do most of the cooking and serving for family gathering, always sitting nearest to the kitchen so she can get up if someone needs more of something, but this felt really extreme to me and quite unfair.

Moving on to clothing.  This always proves an interesting challenge for me while I'm here.  Women in India are notoriously modest and discreet.  Typical clothing is extensive, complicated, and concealed which in my world equals HOT and SWEATY.  Women here never show their legs and prefer to wear baggy pants, if wearing pants at all vs the typical sari, and frequently have a matching scarf which should even further cover your chest and provide even more privacy from the ever present leering and staring from the opposite sex.

It is always interesting to me to see that although legs and upper chest/arms are off limits, having your entire stomach and back bare is perfectly acceptable. Even in your own home, women are discreet and covered up, wearing long house dresses-frequently with scarves, covering and almost always (as far as I am aware) wearing all under clothes to bed and around the house.

I find I get a better reaction, or should I say a lessor reaction when I wear a typical salwar suit (long shirt./baggy pants) vs my normal clothes (normal for here would be pants and a modest shirt). I saw a girl yesterday in the market in a tank top and daisy duke shorts- of course she was white, but I told my SIL she was surely European or Australian. While this outfit is perfect normal and in my opinion, very acceptable back home, when in Rome applies here and that kind of outfit just draws unnecessary attention.

In terms of shelter, the thing that always leaves me the most confused is how seemingly happy people are with staying and sleeping together in close quarters.  They live in joint families with little to no privacy and when in town, the basic expectation is to stay with your nearest relatives, friend, or acquaintance.  Nobody seems or expresses to be inconvenienced, but just warmly accept whoever shows up. I'm perceptive enough to know that an Indian would never complain out loud about an unexpected houseguest, but that there probably is some hard feelings at times.

As many times as I travel here, I am always surprised how willing people are to just lay down on the floor (with a little mat and thick hard blanket type 'bed') laying next to aunts/uncles/cousins/parents. No matter what age or how far the relationship, they just make do and again- nobody seems to mind.
Luckily, we have the bedroom with the attached western bathroom and a big king sized bed (although hard as a rock) in which Jordan, Shivali, and I share (which would seem odd to most Americans) this is pretty much a luxury here.

Everyone kinda makes themselves at home while visiting and seems to feel no shyness related to digging in the fridge or making food or doing almost anything within the house.  It is actually quite amazing to watch, although for me it is quite a foreign concept.

Lastly, I wanted to talk a little about money.  In India, families basically 'share' money.  It is a concept that makes me nervous.  I am told there is an unsaid process for paying and collecting back money, but I don't seem to witness it much or understand exactly how it works.  People seem to never 'pay for themselves' when at a restaurant or buying things for a group, but later on somehow settle up. 

I never mind paying for people in a setting where it is reciprocated like at a bar where you buy, then I buy and have never considered myself to be selfish or a hoarder of money, but how money is handled here is just very strange to me. I really do prefer to have a little separation of money and not allow it to get in between family members or have bad feelings that someone didn't return 'my' money, etc.

Apparently later this week we will venture out into one of India's famous hill stations- which is something like back home up north camping.  They are very green with lots of mountains and scenic beauty.  Issue is, there is nothing planned out as far as where we would stay, how we would eat, and who pays what.  Roy says we can't ask about it and one of the aunts requested to go somewhere like this, so he is obligated to plan it.  In my mind, they wouldn't expect us to pay for everything, but at this point I have no clue and am seemingly powerless to try and figure it out. No choice but to go with the flow and see how it plays out. These things make the statement 'going outside of your comfort zone' sound like the biggest underestimate of the year.

Oh, back to food for a second. It is 10:30 am now and the relatives must have decided it was time to eat.  They began making some quick food- regular toast with butter. Funny thing is eat person is eating at least 6 slices of toast.  Here we go again.....

My Arch nemesis: The wet bathroom

I have briefly written about it before, but due to my ongoing hatred I am going to dedicate an entire post to it. As you may or may not be aware, a wet bathroom is basically a regular bathroom that has the shower in the middle of the room without any separate enclosure.  So, everything into the bathroom gets wet and stays wet.

While initially this is a very strange concept for me, taking a shower under these conditions is surprisingly not that bad. We are fortunate here to have a western bathroom consisting of western toilet and regular shower (with the only difference being it has no shower enclosure).  Typical wet bathrooms have an Indian toilet and only a wall faucet with runs into a giant bucket in which Indians prefer to pour over their head using a small plastic cup.

A few of my biggest concerns with the wet bathroom include the fact that there is rarely any place suitable to keep your post shower clothing as everything gets wet and storage isn't really much of an option with the conditions of the bathroom itself.  Being accustomed to a large bathroom vanity and closet with tons of storage, is night and day different than the one small pedestal sink and 1 towel bar we have here.

The real fun starts after the shower. The bathroom has no fan and only 1 small window for ventilation so it gets pretty hot in there after the shower.  I generally try and kick everyone out of the attached bedroom so I can keep the bathroom door open and lock the bedroom door itself which allows for much better air circulation. This isn't always realistic, especially with multiple relatives staying with us (right now there are 4) which brings the total occupancy for this 2 bedroom/2 bathroom apartment to 12.  Without the luxury of having the whole bedroom and bathroom, I am confined to get dressed in the hot, humid, and soaking wet small space.  It reminds me of being a child and having to get dressed fast after swimming and how awkward and almost painful it is to put dry clothes on.

If you are lucky, only your pant bottoms get wet.  That is, if you have managed to find a place to balance the dry clothes on.  Frequently one item or another falls on the wet floor which not only ticks me off, but makes it 10 x harder to put on.

Oh, and the other really fun part of the bathroom setup here is that the Indian bathroom and western bathroom are connected by a rather large window, and although high up and meant to provide ventilation to the interior Indian bathroom, provides little in the form of privacy when both bathrooms are occupied.   I'm not sure this bothers anyone else, but I detest it.

So bottom line is me and the wet bathroom will never be friends.  We will be nice to each other for the sake of necessity, but other than that I will never have anything to do with it.  As with so many things in India, it is just barely tolerable, frustrating, and enough to drive a person crazy.



 

23 hours of awesomeness

Although this is a blog about India, it wouldn't be fair to not talk about our flight here that featured a 23 hour layover in Paris. I consider us very fortunate to have found a flight like this (thanks to my many hours of searching and research of new websites I haven't used before.) I have always wanted to visit Paris, and sometimes really resent the fact that I travel to such interesting countries but never get to leave the airport.

Well, I'm not going to lie, sometimes going to India isn't that fun.  Between the extremely long plane ride, the heat, the bugs, the overcrowding, I don't feel much like India is ever a 'vacation' for me.  However, knowing we had this layover opportunity I was super excited to go.

Arriving in Paris, we had all slept pretty well and ate and were ready for action.  We easily found a cab to our hotel and although the cab guy spoke limited english, we were able to manage and get to our hotel safely and quickly.  Paris traffic was pretty crazy and the signs and traffic flow was kinda confusing.  I thoroughly researched the best and most affordable hotel close to the Eiffel Tower since we didn't have much time and this was the one must see attraction for us.

The hotel was small, but very nice.  We had to get 2 rooms, as most Paris hotel rooms have 1 double bed max.  I was thrilled to find out we had a view of Eiffel tower from our room!

We settled in and changed and headed off for food and entertainment.  The hotel was in a nice place for walking and street cafe seating.  This is a common form of eating and gathering in Paris and gotta say- I loved it.   The buildings in Paris are absolutely beautiful, I just love the style and atmosphere.   The air was cool and crisp and people were out and about everywhere.

The Eiffel tower did not disappoint.  It was massive and beautiful and the grounds around it was very nicely maintained and obviously a hot spot for gathering.  The other thing I liked is there was no fee to come into that area, its just a big park, so we were able to soak in the atmosphere and just be in awe of such an iconic structure free of cost.  We chose to not go up into it, there was a wait for the elevator and honestly none of us felt like it was necessary.

We had dinner in a street cafe, sitting among all the french people was a lot of fun.  Lots of young people and couples drinking wine, eating, and laughing and enjoying.  The food was awesome and the wine was even better.  We got to talking to several people around us and found them to be warm and welcoming. One guy even insisted on buying Shivali a magic wand from a street vendor walking through the restaurant because he just wanted to see her smile.

We settled back into the hotel well after midnight and the street cafe was still hopping.  One last look at the Eiffel tower before bed!

The cab ride back to the airport was uneventful and quick, in spite of several warning emails we got from Air France saying we should be cautious of the traffic for the 70th anniversary of D-Day, and we also learned President Obama was in town the day we arrived.  Luckily we didn't get caught up in either and were in and out before we know it and on a plane to India.

In true Kerri form, I nicely consulted with the Air France personal about my concern on seats in the rear of the plane and my daughter's common air sickness (a true story- but also I am finding myself being more and more fearful of turbulence) they upgraded us to premier economy which isn't as good as business class, but way better than economy.  We all rode nicely and arrived safely in Bangalore (9 and a half hours later!). Score!!! Love you Air France

A trip with a purpose....

I guess anyone who blogs feels like this sometimes, and although I am not a regular blogger (posting only when traveling to India) I still feel unsure sometimes if I want to tell my story, spend the time doing it, or simply wondering if anyone really cares. I guess it is easy for people to judge and make assumptions, but bottom line is: Do I care? Do I do this for others or me??  

As I sit down to write this introductory post on the eve of our next trip to India I feel generally happy and excited to be writing.  Life has a funny way of taking you on a roller coaster of thoughts and feelings- just when you think you understand them, you get flipped around or turned on your side and your whole perspective changes.

The reality for me at this moment is I do like to share and I feel privileged to be able to experience so many wonderful cultural differences and I hope I can help educate and entertain everyone who reads this.

First I would like to share a little about the purpose of our trip.  Of course most of you know that my entire extended family lives in India, so it is of course a no-brainer that we would travel there regularly to visit them.  Unfortunately we don't get there as much as we like- with work, costs, and everyday logistics we generally only go once a year.  Thankfully this last winter, my MIL was able to travel here (first time out of India) for 3 months to visit.  I think it is safe to say she enjoyed it:

Ok, maybe not the -50 degree weather, but everything else.

As most Americans would feel, I wasn't exactly sure about how a 3 month house guest would work out, but it turned out to be a wonderful experience and she is sweet and kind and helpful and I welcome her anytime.

So, back to the purpose of our trip.  Unfortunately, my FIL lost his battle with cancer last year in May. My husband and Shivali were by his side, as well as many of the family members there.  It was a devastating loss as you can imagine and in Hindu culture the family spends the next year 'unclean', meaning they will not participate in rituals or religious events and, etc. and the deceased's soul is not fully at rest.  So, with the 1 year anniversary just past, we are traveling to India to perform the 1 year rituals which will send his soul free and 'cleanse' the family. 

The tree we purchased for our yard in my FIL's name, along with the memory plaque
I got for Roy. The tree opened it's first bloom- just one single bloom,
on the 1 year anniversary of the date of his death....
A coincidence?.....not in my world.

I have always had mixed feelings about not traveling to India when my FIL died.  Roy and Shivali had been gone almost a month when he passed, and between work, home responsibilities, and cost we decided it was not necessary for me to go.  I knew there was nothing I could do in traveling there, but the last thing I wanted was to create an image that I didn't care- because nothing was further from the truth.   

So, the 1 year rituals are very important and therefore we are all coming (Roy, Shivali, Jordan and I)- unfortunately with Kaila's 2 jobs and school there is no opportunity for her to come along. Why do they have to grow up???

I would like to dedicate this post to my Father-in-Law.  I had only met him a handful of times, and he didn't speak much English to the point that we could carry on long conversations, but the time I spent with him was very important.  Let me paint the picture for you-  His firstborn is a son, an only son in the family and first son /child born into the relation.  He puts every ounce of his being into providing his son with the best he can afford, keeping him in line, and ensuring he has the best opportunity for the future. While this is a typical scenario in Indian culture, my impression is he went above and beyond what most fathers would do.  He was strict, but loving and sometimes harsh, but at the end of the day everything he did was in the name of raising a son to be proud of whom would take care of them in the future.

So, this only firstborn son marries an American- what????  Oh, and without them knowing.  Oh, and they are having the first Grandchild.  He goes crazy, right?  Disowns the son?  Nope,  this simple man who probably never dreamed something like that would happen accepted me with nothing but open arms.  Was he concerned, probably....but he never showed that to me.  It is amazing to me that if someone who is raised in such a small village in India, with such deeply rooted cultural beliefs and norms can accept something so major why can't the rest of us learn to be more accepting of such less significant happenings????

To me, he was quiet and sweet.  He was very unassuming and humble. He literally dedicated his entire life to his wife and children, surviving on minimal resources to ensure the kids had a good education (not something to be taken for granted in India and something CRITICAL to a child's future).  There is hardly such as thing as good quality, free public education like we take for granted here in the US.  My FIL sunk practically every dollar he had into sending Roy and his sisters to private schools (some Catholic- how ironic...) and ensuring they had what they needed to be successful.   Roy tells stories of how he tried to avoid studying and homework, only to take the full wrath of his father when he returned from work and how he never understood why his dad didn't have money for video games or toys, but had plenty of effort to beat him when he didn't get good grades or finish his homework on time.

It probably seems harsh, and to most people here- unimaginable, but all this pain and effort was put into making Roy the person he is today.  And while not perfect (duh, who is), he has exceeded any possible expectation his father had- just in a different way.   I sometimes almost fault Roy for being so adaptable and open to change and new experiences, because he makes it look so easy I almost forget he wasn't brought up here.  There are definitely times when this bubbles up to the surface and creates conflict. Between culture differences, religion, food, discipline for our children, we were raised on almost opposite sides of the spectrum but somehow we fight through it (ok, sometimes literally) to make it work and be happy.  It is sometimes difficult to articulate how challenging, yet rewarding this is for me.

So, bottom line is my FIL was a great person and a foundation for the family.  With him gone, I'm not sure how India will feel to us while we are there.  I'm sure there will be a lot of sad times, as with any passing, I try and think of the good times and look to the future for change and opportunities that come with any shift in a situation.  Roy is now responsible for his Mother and youngest unmarried sister, something he doesn't take lightly.  Although sometimes difficult for me to understand, abandoning them in their time of need would be even more difficult to understand. (the unfortunate reality for some widows in India)  So, we are in it for the long haul, not knowing with the future holds, but doing our level best to make good decisions with the greater good in mind every step of the way.

We all miss you Baba.......

Love at first sight.....

                                     

He was so tolerate of Shivali's antics....

He loved this suit I picked out for him for Debika's wedding. It fit practically perfect
and  I got it on the other side of the planet, without his measurements.

I knew this picture would be critically important someday soon the second I took it.

He loved to play with Shivali- whatever crazy game she had in mind.

I had to insist they smile.

One of my all time favorites....like Dadu, like baby....