Ko-taim-ah = good time-uh... but not really

So remember I said I was going to church every morning?

That faded fast... I attended diligently for 3 whole consecutive days (highest church per day ratio ever for me) Tuesday, Weds and Thursday of that 2nd week here, and then Friday lost my enthu under the guise of health - I had gotten a little cold/cough/sniffle and wanted to just lay in bed til the "late late" hour of 8am or so. But in my daily dose of Mallu Gospel, I was seeing Christy Aunty of eyebrow threading fame every day on our walk home. She caught me humming the mass to myself (or sometimes I'd be getting a kick out of humming the "om jai jagadish" that I've learned from attending EMU's Dandiyas and watching Kuch Kuch Hota Hai too many times) and asked me in sort of pidgin english what I was singing... then though for a moment and released a stream of excited Malayalam to Babi. She then relates to me that Christy Aunty has organized a program of sorts, a big get together... it will be on Friday at 6pm and would I please come and sing a song?
Shyness set in... I thought "oh haaaaiiill no" and then realized I
a.) am living the most utter stress free life over here
b.) have nothing to lose
and c.) might benefit from a little purpose to life

I agreed to sing a christmas carol and promptly retired to my bathroom to yodel out "Little Drummer Boy" and some other carols, testing my knowledge of words and all... finally determing that it might be okay to do "Oh Come All Ye Faithful" but wishing I knew the latin words instead.

WELL... it comes to be that day, Friday, and I do NOT attend church, and I sink into the comfortable antisociality of my room, do some reading, take a shower and start hoping that nobody will stop by and remind me to attend. On cue, Jopu, a cousin next door at Appapan and Jose Uncle's house, pops in the window to remind us that we have to be there at 6pm. I feel bad because I gave my word, so Mummy agrees to go with me... then corrals Ruby Aunty as well (Valsama Aunty will already be there because her son Jopu is performing in a group skit) so that I've a lil' cheering section. Mum helps me wrap a sari (nice black one with some embroidery that Leelama Aunty gave me from her collection in LA) and we chuck off down the road to the home of Dr. Thomas Mathai, where this shindig is being held.

WELL! (I am saying "well" a lot) This was no small function, singing in some living room. In the back yard of the doctors home, he has set up not only about 50 plastic chairs, but also a full blown stage, curtain, and soundsystem. Microphones are there... and with my apologies to those Indians who do know better, I must say that generally Indians should NOT, under any circumstances, be allowed to have access to amplified sound. SABU (as the chairs and PA system were labeled, so I assumed that's the name of the fellow renting the equipment) was going nuts with a fancy 1994 tape deck that was playing Christian songs in both English and Malayalam. That's great. The only thing was the tape sounded like it had been left on the dashboard of a car for most of the Rajasthani desert summer... it squealed, squelched and wavered while Sabu made adjustments by increasing the volume. Ahhh!

6pm rolls around... Sabu flips the tape and I begin to hum along with the squealing, it's now as familiar as the song I intend to sing. Mummy and the Aunties and I all take seats, and get introduced to a few people around us. All are from the neighborhood, and all are from the church. (Which is why Daddy did NOT come) I get asked how I like it here a few times by girls who look younger than my 12 year old niece and then inform me they're doing their masters in Physics and Math at a local college. Another asks me "You prefer India or the U.S.?" Mummy sorts of giggles next to me, and says "you've only been here one week..." and I stammer out the same reply, wondering if this was going to get political. Luckily a giant bug came flying down from the top of a coconut tree and scared me sh*tless, giving a perfect excuse to stop making chit chat.

6:30 rolls around and the Aunties are looking at their watches. 6:40 rolls around, and someone... presumably Dr. Thomas Mathai gets up and makes a giant speech to open the show. He says something that sounds like "Kottayam" a bunch of times, and I wonder what he's mentioning the next town over for so frequently... but it is actually "kotaiyma" he's saying... which means gathering, or get together. And then the dreaded words.... "(dreadfully long something or other in Malayalam).... Lina Sebastian.... (malayalam again)... *pause*.... Welcome!"

(note: Wives over here take their Hubby's first names as their last name after marriage, because of how names get passed down from father to son. If I were Lina George, they would think I was married to Saby's dad. Which actually one sales lady who came to the door did. But that's another story.)

When I was getting up to the stage I heard only comments on the fact that I was wearing a sari. I shakily sing "Oh Come, All Ye Faithful" and then go back to my seat, sweating like a whore in church... or rather, like a girl wrapped in 8 feet of chiffon sitting in a backyard on a 85 degree breezeless evening.

The night went down from there. By 7:15 there's been a parade of utterly amateur talent including small girls dancing in front of another girl dressed as the Virgin Mary, a stand-up comedy routine about 7 minutes too long, a group song in Malayalam that resembled banshees after an Irish bus crash, and a one finger keyboard recital of malayalam film songs set to cheesy Casio background rhythm. As another speech begins, Mummy and Ruby Aunty stand up and herd me towards the exit. Our less-than-stealthy retreat is barred by a frantic Christy Aunty, who gives Mummy a talking to in unsmiling Malayalam and without even registering my existance, much less "thanks" or "Bye" - apparently she was quite miffed that we were leaving, when they had "made coffee for 100 people!" Well, the 20 people remaining in the crowd were going to need that coffee, as we could hear (thanks to Sabu's magnificient, or rather mangled, speaker system) that the torture went well into the night.

But it wasn't a totally lost night... I got to wear a sari, meet some neighborhood folks, and by comparison, I felt my song went over quite well.