FASHION DESIGNING AND HOME SCIENCE... is what I see out the window, having been initited into a 3rd floor room of the net cafe (which I was never aware even existed... the floor, not the cafe). I am staring at 4 guys who are staring down from the 4th floor of aforementioned St Antony's College, which appears to be nothing terribly special perhaps to better prepare it's students for the drudgery of hotel management and home science (although I read today that fashion design is one of the industrys where people are most likely to become cocaine addicts in India - wonder if the boys and girls of Kanjirapally are ready for the big time in that way?)
The keys of this computer are very sticky adn I'm getting a workout stabbing each key... slam slam slam! Hell, I'm very sticky as it's either been really hot lately or I've totally lost my patience with the weather. Yesterday the "current" (as electricity is fondly called, like how our Canadian brethren call it Hydro) went out about 13 minutes into a nap for both Saby and I and we both lay muttering and sweating below the unmoving fan, willing it to come back on. Didn't... so I abandoned ship to come down here.
I'm here as my lov'in spoonful hubby and Chackochen Uncle have gone to the home for retired priests to visit Father Mathew, Daddy's brother. After swearing I knew where the net cafe was, and that they sort of knew me there, and that I was comfortable there and wouldn't wander away or anything, I was dropped off here for an hour or so of punchy typing for most wonderful, theraputic and mostly (I think) UNREAD blog.
(Thanks Liz, Radha, Tabby... your comments and kudos are very sweet and encouraging and nice and funny!!)
Aiiii-YO! (as everyone here says in astonishment, surprise, desperation, or any other sort of emotional feeling) I just heard the theme from Titanic (Heard Must Go On) which is the song that Chackochen Uncle's car plays when it's backing up. Everything here sings - the fridge if you leave the door open sings Jingle Bells, the water purifier plays the Mexican Hat Dance when it's finished, and you can always tell when Chackochen UNcle is in the neighborhood because he carries a little of Celine Dion with him wherever he goes :) Anyway, that means I have to go... Saby is recharging our cell phone.
If anybody wants to call us at home, please do... tomorrow we'll be out whole day visiting his G'ma in another town about 3 hours away, adn next 2 days we'll be off to Cochin to visit Vinod (HAaaaaaaaLoo) Tharakaran and family and do a little touristy stuff. We're going by TRAIN, as our Bangalore journey was cancelled due to no return tickets and I will not leave the sub continent without having traveled in a train.
Gotta run, here's the number: 91 04 828 222 711
You dial 011 from the US btw :)
Take care peoples, all is well and check this final discovery out: we get Monday night football at 7am on Tuesday Morning Live!!!
Lina
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Sabotoge in the Mother Land...
SABY IS HERE!!!!
He reached safe and sound on the 17th at around 4:30 am... he is doing well, sleeping lots, and pissed off at the electrical company, cable company, and the communists who run this state. MOre later.
He reached safe and sound on the 17th at around 4:30 am... he is doing well, sleeping lots, and pissed off at the electrical company, cable company, and the communists who run this state. MOre later.
Saraswati!!
Balu (Babi's brother) is looking bored as hell so let me relate a few things before he goes postal and insists that we leave this sweaty shoe-smelling (although all the shoes are outside) internet cafe.
HINDI SERIAL: No, not cereal... although Mummy asked me if I wanted to get some Corn Flakes for breakfast (I declined, as authentic South Indian Breakfast is the very best thing in the world). I have started watching a Hindi soap opera that comes on Zee Network. It's called "Ghar ki Lakshmi Betiyanne" which can be loosely translated into something like "Our Daughters are the Good Fortune of the House." I understand more Hindi than Malayalam, but then that still isn't much... but fortunately this does not require anything but an open mind towards UTTER RUBBISH! It's the most deliciously melodramatic, over costumed, over acted, straight up JUNK, featuring Saraswati (side note: Goddess of Knowledge and other good stuff has same name) the new bride in a North Indian home filled with people who dress like they're coming off the set of Devdas (a very ornate period film) but have cell phones. She is constantly crying or begging her mother in law for something or another.. "Mummy-ji?" (the ji being a respectful suffix you use in Hindi) I've been able to gather that she didn't bring enough dowry in for her marriage, her husband (an over dressed mama's boy) beats her, her mother in law hates her, and she is probably going to be accused of making eyes at her new brother-in-law although I think her sister is going to end up marrying him. It is the best full hour of CRAP that you can ever see. The mother-in-law (Mummy-ji!) is a fierce beauty, always looking like a million bucks, and Saraswati has been disappointing lately in not changing clothes between episodes, but she is usually in more jewelery than I own, full bangles up to her elbows, sari pallu over her head like some Rajasthani from last century, and probably 5 kilos of sequins dispersed over her outfits. It's on at 5pm. I missed it today to come here. Very very disappointed... but it replays at 10pm so maybe I'll stay up to catch the late show :)
HINDI SERIAL: No, not cereal... although Mummy asked me if I wanted to get some Corn Flakes for breakfast (I declined, as authentic South Indian Breakfast is the very best thing in the world). I have started watching a Hindi soap opera that comes on Zee Network. It's called "Ghar ki Lakshmi Betiyanne" which can be loosely translated into something like "Our Daughters are the Good Fortune of the House." I understand more Hindi than Malayalam, but then that still isn't much... but fortunately this does not require anything but an open mind towards UTTER RUBBISH! It's the most deliciously melodramatic, over costumed, over acted, straight up JUNK, featuring Saraswati (side note: Goddess of Knowledge and other good stuff has same name) the new bride in a North Indian home filled with people who dress like they're coming off the set of Devdas (a very ornate period film) but have cell phones. She is constantly crying or begging her mother in law for something or another.. "Mummy-ji?" (the ji being a respectful suffix you use in Hindi) I've been able to gather that she didn't bring enough dowry in for her marriage, her husband (an over dressed mama's boy) beats her, her mother in law hates her, and she is probably going to be accused of making eyes at her new brother-in-law although I think her sister is going to end up marrying him. It is the best full hour of CRAP that you can ever see. The mother-in-law (Mummy-ji!) is a fierce beauty, always looking like a million bucks, and Saraswati has been disappointing lately in not changing clothes between episodes, but she is usually in more jewelery than I own, full bangles up to her elbows, sari pallu over her head like some Rajasthani from last century, and probably 5 kilos of sequins dispersed over her outfits. It's on at 5pm. I missed it today to come here. Very very disappointed... but it replays at 10pm so maybe I'll stay up to catch the late show :)
Off to the Meenachil...
The day after my Kerala Show Business Debut at Dr. Thomas Mathai's house, I packed a backpack full of comfy clothes and headed off to visit an Aunty and Uncle about one hour away, in the town of Meenachil. Meenachil is named after the lovely river that flows through it... and thanks to the Kerala map now hanging in my bedroom, I know it's north of Kanjirapally and south of Palai. One hour away probably means it's like 35 miles or something... because of the condition of the roads here, traveling any distance takes a substantial amount of time. But our drive was pleasant... the trip was made with Chackochen Uncle, Ruby Aunty, and their daughter and grandaughter Sunitha and 3 year old Saira. Saira is an interesting child... she rules that household, deffffffff-initely - and we'll leave it at that. (read between THOSE lines, Mom!)
Saira and I had not hit it off in the previous week worth of visits... but over the drive we became fast friends communicating in some rediculious combination of english nursery rhymes and random Malayalam words - mostly I would make my hand like a snake, say "Pambh" (snake) and then pretend to bite her. She would then giggle madly and stealthily attack in return, chanting "Pambh! Pambh!" Luckily I know the word for "hair" too, so we had a little more to talk about (ha ha).
We reached the home of Lissama Aunty and Joy Uncle, and daughters Tintu, Taniya, and son Thomas Ooty. Tintu I had met previously... she's a rather serious elder sister type with a super giggle and a teaching degree. Taniya is a babe, like somebody from a Mallu movie that Mohanlal would fall in love with... and Thomas Ooty is the prettiest little boy the world has ever seen. But he's 11 - and I'm sure (and I hope for his sake) that his pretty days are numbered. Anyway, sweet kid - he kept both me and Saira entertained with porch swings, bicycles, rollerskates (over which he maneuvered the entire downstairs of their marble floored home with ease) and various other knicknacks. We went down to the river, which is about a city block from their home... a quick trek down through some coconut trees and bee hives, following along a creek, and we came out on the prettiest, greenest, most tropical setting one girl from Ohio can imagine. We waded into the river, right next to a family of about 4 girls, mother, and a little naked boy all bathing and doing their laundry. Three of the girls were having quite a time, giggling and then taking up a bit of staring at me as I waded in after Thomas Ooty... so I snatched out my camera and took their photo. I didn't really realize then that they were, very literally, in the process of taking a bath, and the resulting photo features the youngest one grinning from ear to ear while her sisters attempt to duck under the water for modesty. Very, very very very sweet. The mum then asked Sunitha and Thomas Ooty where I was from... the regular info was related, and we headed back to the house with a wave of goodbye and a couple giggles.
This trip was a fantastic example of simply going with the flow and getting fantastically rewarded with a kickass surprise journey: after the river, Tintu asks me "Do you need to get ready?" and I think she's talking about being ready for dinner. I put on some powder, wash my hands... and everbody's heading out to the car! Whoopsie... didn't realize that we were going all together to Ayyembara (sp?) - a place near Uncle's house, on a very high point, that is about 24 acres of exposed black rock. That description was very, very lousy. Try and imagine coming up a winding one lane road, up up up among pine trees and scrub grass, being surrounded by other higher hills and soft mountains, and finally at the top having the land open up to reveal a church (Little Flower of Ayyembara) and then the equivalent of an open, treeless field that slopes downward from the road, finally disappearing over the edge to reveal the entire vista of Kottayam district and it's hills and rivers and valleys. It was FANTASTIC! Take the Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes, turn them into dark lovely granite, and make them 2x as high and it's something like that.
We wandered onto the black rock after parking at the church. Apparently there are normally some vacationing foreigners there... but that honor was held by me and me only on this occasion, and a gaggle of drunk Malayalee men noticed that straight away and began yelling random phrases in English. Tintu explained them away by saying "They only have the guts to speak in english when they're drinking..." and we made our way down towards a point where one might not be comfortable taking a 3 year old.... so after a few photos there at the edge, we wandered up and back towards another end of the mountaintop, where a small temple to Krishna was being built. It was my first temple in India! But it was getting darker by the minute, and while the sunset was lovely from our spot I could only think of watching the sun set on Pacific Coast Highway 1 - lovely, but then you have 30 more miles of hairpin curves head of you, in the DARK. Little did I understand my hosts' plan - we would picnic on the rock, stay until the stars came out, and make our way back to the car by torchlight (flashlight). As dusk turned to deep, black starry night, we all sat and lay on the warm earthy rock of Ayyembara, sometimes talking and laughing, and sometimes singing... everyone except me joined in on a Malayalam song that sounded so pretty and sweet, especially in such a blissed out place. Saira started crying and saying something (she speaks only mostly Mallu) - and it seems she wanted to know when HER turn to sing was. She then repeated the chorus of the last song in the sweetest, prettiest three year old voice... apparently forgetting the words in a few places but otherwise making a very good impression amongst 3 year old musicians of the world.
After awhile the Mallu drunk fellows moved from singing film songs to straight up spirituals... a Ayeppan pilgrim started blasting "Swamiiii!" tunes from his parking spot on the road, and we decided to make our way back to the cars.
All in all, it was a very good night.
Saira and I had not hit it off in the previous week worth of visits... but over the drive we became fast friends communicating in some rediculious combination of english nursery rhymes and random Malayalam words - mostly I would make my hand like a snake, say "Pambh" (snake) and then pretend to bite her. She would then giggle madly and stealthily attack in return, chanting "Pambh! Pambh!" Luckily I know the word for "hair" too, so we had a little more to talk about (ha ha).
We reached the home of Lissama Aunty and Joy Uncle, and daughters Tintu, Taniya, and son Thomas Ooty. Tintu I had met previously... she's a rather serious elder sister type with a super giggle and a teaching degree. Taniya is a babe, like somebody from a Mallu movie that Mohanlal would fall in love with... and Thomas Ooty is the prettiest little boy the world has ever seen. But he's 11 - and I'm sure (and I hope for his sake) that his pretty days are numbered. Anyway, sweet kid - he kept both me and Saira entertained with porch swings, bicycles, rollerskates (over which he maneuvered the entire downstairs of their marble floored home with ease) and various other knicknacks. We went down to the river, which is about a city block from their home... a quick trek down through some coconut trees and bee hives, following along a creek, and we came out on the prettiest, greenest, most tropical setting one girl from Ohio can imagine. We waded into the river, right next to a family of about 4 girls, mother, and a little naked boy all bathing and doing their laundry. Three of the girls were having quite a time, giggling and then taking up a bit of staring at me as I waded in after Thomas Ooty... so I snatched out my camera and took their photo. I didn't really realize then that they were, very literally, in the process of taking a bath, and the resulting photo features the youngest one grinning from ear to ear while her sisters attempt to duck under the water for modesty. Very, very very very sweet. The mum then asked Sunitha and Thomas Ooty where I was from... the regular info was related, and we headed back to the house with a wave of goodbye and a couple giggles.
This trip was a fantastic example of simply going with the flow and getting fantastically rewarded with a kickass surprise journey: after the river, Tintu asks me "Do you need to get ready?" and I think she's talking about being ready for dinner. I put on some powder, wash my hands... and everbody's heading out to the car! Whoopsie... didn't realize that we were going all together to Ayyembara (sp?) - a place near Uncle's house, on a very high point, that is about 24 acres of exposed black rock. That description was very, very lousy. Try and imagine coming up a winding one lane road, up up up among pine trees and scrub grass, being surrounded by other higher hills and soft mountains, and finally at the top having the land open up to reveal a church (Little Flower of Ayyembara) and then the equivalent of an open, treeless field that slopes downward from the road, finally disappearing over the edge to reveal the entire vista of Kottayam district and it's hills and rivers and valleys. It was FANTASTIC! Take the Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes, turn them into dark lovely granite, and make them 2x as high and it's something like that.
We wandered onto the black rock after parking at the church. Apparently there are normally some vacationing foreigners there... but that honor was held by me and me only on this occasion, and a gaggle of drunk Malayalee men noticed that straight away and began yelling random phrases in English. Tintu explained them away by saying "They only have the guts to speak in english when they're drinking..." and we made our way down towards a point where one might not be comfortable taking a 3 year old.... so after a few photos there at the edge, we wandered up and back towards another end of the mountaintop, where a small temple to Krishna was being built. It was my first temple in India! But it was getting darker by the minute, and while the sunset was lovely from our spot I could only think of watching the sun set on Pacific Coast Highway 1 - lovely, but then you have 30 more miles of hairpin curves head of you, in the DARK. Little did I understand my hosts' plan - we would picnic on the rock, stay until the stars came out, and make our way back to the car by torchlight (flashlight). As dusk turned to deep, black starry night, we all sat and lay on the warm earthy rock of Ayyembara, sometimes talking and laughing, and sometimes singing... everyone except me joined in on a Malayalam song that sounded so pretty and sweet, especially in such a blissed out place. Saira started crying and saying something (she speaks only mostly Mallu) - and it seems she wanted to know when HER turn to sing was. She then repeated the chorus of the last song in the sweetest, prettiest three year old voice... apparently forgetting the words in a few places but otherwise making a very good impression amongst 3 year old musicians of the world.
After awhile the Mallu drunk fellows moved from singing film songs to straight up spirituals... a Ayeppan pilgrim started blasting "Swamiiii!" tunes from his parking spot on the road, and we decided to make our way back to the cars.
All in all, it was a very good night.
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.
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.
(Sexy) Back!
Greetings humble readers.
Greetings from a net cafe that smells like the top I wore for two consecutive days... yeeeeccch.
I haven't had a chance to come down and do anything for quite a while. It's not that I or we have been particularly busy or anything... and NO, I have not been laid up because one of those "things" got into my intestine, mother :-) - just have been chilling around the house and Babi, my escort, has been busy with wedding preparations.
So what is happening? I keep a really lame journal over here, especially compared to the prolific writings I did back in Mexico in 2003. Mostly I am too lazy to write, knowing I'm just going to type it up later. It's hot and writing gives me a cramp. Anyway I'm oh so busy doing Sudoku puzzles like it's my job ;-)
Oh, back to lame journal - I basically just keep a diary of what all happens each day. So I am going to look through that and see if there's anything I can either add to or totally exaggerate in order to make for interesting reading material...
Cheers!
Greetings from a net cafe that smells like the top I wore for two consecutive days... yeeeeccch.
I haven't had a chance to come down and do anything for quite a while. It's not that I or we have been particularly busy or anything... and NO, I have not been laid up because one of those "things" got into my intestine, mother :-) - just have been chilling around the house and Babi, my escort, has been busy with wedding preparations.
So what is happening? I keep a really lame journal over here, especially compared to the prolific writings I did back in Mexico in 2003. Mostly I am too lazy to write, knowing I'm just going to type it up later. It's hot and writing gives me a cramp. Anyway I'm oh so busy doing Sudoku puzzles like it's my job ;-)
Oh, back to lame journal - I basically just keep a diary of what all happens each day. So I am going to look through that and see if there's anything I can either add to or totally exaggerate in order to make for interesting reading material...
Cheers!
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
You make me feel like a natural woman...
There is so much LIFE over here.
It's the jungle, I tell you... and I've had the fantastic opportunity to meet a black butterfly, a dancing bird, lots of ants, those weird flat worm things, lizards, chameleons, cows, a goat or two, and a random dog or two (one apparently walked into church yesterday).
Everywhere you look outside, if you just wait a second, there will be gnats, ants, some sort of bug or something crawling on it. I think that even the plants are growing fast enough that if you stood still and listened, you could hear them climbing and creeping along.
But I won't be standing still watching all this anymore on the back black rocks behind the house, because I was just informed this morning that both the red and brown ants bite.
No scheme!
It's the jungle, I tell you... and I've had the fantastic opportunity to meet a black butterfly, a dancing bird, lots of ants, those weird flat worm things, lizards, chameleons, cows, a goat or two, and a random dog or two (one apparently walked into church yesterday).
Everywhere you look outside, if you just wait a second, there will be gnats, ants, some sort of bug or something crawling on it. I think that even the plants are growing fast enough that if you stood still and listened, you could hear them climbing and creeping along.
But I won't be standing still watching all this anymore on the back black rocks behind the house, because I was just informed this morning that both the red and brown ants bite.
No scheme!
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