Baggage allowance internationally on United is going to be 50 lbs per suitcase, 1 suitcase per person, with the 10% fare baby Elena getting her very own full 50 lb allowance despite being only 23 pounds herself. Saby found time to have a small fit over the concept of being forced to pay for additional luggage beyond these three, but lucky enough, we only have three total suitcases! Whooo hooo, what a coincidence!
Many pounds of the 150 we've been allotted are being dedicated to prevention. Such as:
- Prevention of Mosquito Bites and subsequent Mosquito-Related Illnesses (containers of high-octane, DEET-crazy Deep Woods Off, anti-malarials, and some nearly expired wide spectrum antibiotics provided from a friend who recently visited the Philippines with her 18 month old)
- Prevention of Local Food Rejection and/or Starvation (about 30 containers of Plum Organics Tots Fruit snacks that can be eaten by the entire family should any Lost-style, island-stranded sort of scenario occur)
- Prevention of Insanity (Mama's low-dose Zoloft)
- Prevention of Nakedness (clothing... duh)
Clothing is an interesting aspect of packing for this particular trip. We've got two very divergent missions on this journey: a wedding in Bangalore, and general bonding with family in small town Kerala. The family part could very easily be done in whatever slightly sweaty, wrinkly Indian clothes I can still manage to squeeze into from last trip, a pair of jeans, and some not-too-cleveage-y shirts. Saby could manage in tshirts and jeans, opting easily and conveniently for the more casual lungi - the male Malayali version of a sarong - in a pinch. Yes... I am essentially saying we could hang out at my inlaws house in our pajamas. I mean no disrespect, but aside from weddings and perhaps an occasional outing to see family, it's blissfully casual at home over there.
Blissfully casual to the point where city cousins might look askance and ask things like, "hmmmm, did you buy that in Ponkunnam?" That's the equivalent of "Did you buy that at Dollar Village? Did you go shopping in Oak Harbor? Do you have a mirror at home or any sense of shame?" That's where the trouble starts.
BANGALORE. India's Silicon Valley. Lots of young money, lots of modern development. Per my moderately worldwise perspective, Mumbai is known for banking, movies and slums, Calcutta is known for "The Black Hole of Calcutta" and jolly Bengalis, and Chennai is known for Carnatic music and giving people pink eye. Delhi? I don't know that Delhi is known for anything other than being the capital of India. Lal Bhag and historical stuff or something. Most people probably think the Taj Mahal is there.
BUT I DIGRESS.
Bangalore was a sleepy, temperate city in the late 90s when my darling husband left it. I understand it was something of an educational center - great colleges. Being sort of the central hub of southern India gave it a worldwide advantage made from regional disadvantage. The languages of South India are complicated and not always mutually-intelligible, so the lingua franca there is good old English. Some might argue that this is the case for all of India, especially in more recent times, but I dare you to compare the average TOEFL scores of folks from the states of Kerala and Karnataka versus those of the Hindi-heavy north, and you will understand.
Bangalore has since exploded into the center of the IT industry in India, sparking some of the highest real estate prices in the world, and fueling the continuation of some very rich families, along with a great deal of new ones.
Thinking that I will be fashionable in Bangalore was like me thinking I'd fit in with my normal clothes in Mexico City, my first big break out of Ohio after high school. My dear Mexican friend and hostess Daniella said Americans are often called "chicken McNuggets with legs" there - because among the svelte urban elite youth, I was the roly-poliest and least-branded of my peers. Never having been a terribly big person by US standards, there in Mexico I was taller, bigger (let's say "less petite" to be clear; as in, the size of my head could have easily eclipsed one and a half of say, Paloma's and Lulu's heads) and yes, a little fatter than most. Add to that the sad fact that I'd never seen a Zara store, had exactly zero Guess jeans, and only occasionally frequented the clearance rack at the Gap, and I was a total fish out of water. Pull that mentality forward into modern day, where I think wearing a 400 rupee salwar kameez is not only sassy and chic, but pretty fun - until hot piece cousin #2 asks exactly whether I had bought it in Ponkunnam or not. Siiiiigh. Yes, I have a mirror. Yes, I have some shame.
I've never been to a Mangey wedding (Mangaloreans from the city of Mangalore, silly - not filled with "you mangy mutt!"-type people) but being in Bangalore and being Christians, I can only imagine it will be a great to-do. (All Indian weddings are over the top, but I guess having to cram all the glam into one, maybe two nights would raise the glam-concentration of Christian weddings to near bursting levels.) My plan is to beg/borrow/steal someone to take me shopping on the famous Commercial Street of Bangalore and score something fancy enough to suit at least two of the wedding-related events, but not so terribly fancy that I'll never be able to wear it again. It will be an investment, I'm sure, but as in everything in India, pride is on the line. And anyway it's super fun to shop for shiny things!
