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Thursday, March 5th, 2009
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8:30 pm - March
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Only three weeks to go in Term 8 of the MBA -- almost done! Unbelievable.
Sid got the job in Norway and he must start there by June 1. He will go to India to tell his parents about his decision in late April. I tried my best to suggest alternatives, but he is dead set on his course to live in India and have a career that limits him (ahem, us) to Mumbai. I can't do that. More importantly, I can't be a clear third priority behind his career and his parents. I was cool with being equal to his parents and the career following in priority -- but that's not the ranking, and it would very likely lead to more problems.
I'm really sad about all this, but I just cannot be the only one who ever alters plans for the sake of the marriage.
My go-forward plan:
- PhD applications done, although could still apply to Uni Mannheim. Not sure I'm interested in that one still, though.
- Stay in Bakersfield for now -- got a good job at least, which is enviable in this economy. Also I need some time to regroup.
- Find an apartment and move in late March / early April.
- Depending on PhD results, apply for jobs in other places I like.
- Keep running, rock climbing, tackle some peaks come summer.
- Get the Spanish skills back.. might as well, since I hear it 50% of the time at work
- Apply for the CPLP credential, maybe?
I've run two races since February -- Montana de Oro Trail Run at 12K and the Bakersfield Half Marathon. Also back into the distance trail running, after 13.4 miles in the Hart Park hills last weekend. Too bad the season here is short, but it's a good time of year now.
current music: none - The Colbert Report
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| Sunday, January 18th, 2009
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3:00 pm - last update for "friends" only
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There's a newer post here, but it's "friends only". So if you're a friend, log in. If you're a real world friend but not a LiveJournal "friend", sign on up and I'll give you access. It's nice to know people care.
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| Saturday, December 20th, 2008
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12:42 pm - ordinary life
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I always thought my life was sort of ordinary. On the surface, it is a pretty typical American life: I was born, had a good family life, went to school, went to college, worked a few jobs, moved a couple times, got married, went back for a Master's, am getting a divorce.
An enormous number of people could list this same pattern... maybe with more or less jobs and moving, and the Master's being optional.
But I've been told I'm "really interesting" and have "diverse experience". Now -- when I'm really damn depressed about failing at my marriage -- seems like a good time to figure out why. Here goes:
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I can sing -- was in choir all the way through school and college. Always wanted to be in a band. Now just sing in the car or shower.
Majored in German. Yes, German. Ueber-useful. Could talk all day long about the connections between Romantic era fairytales and the folktales and legends that were passed along orally.
Studied abroad in Germany 1999-2000. Traveled around a lot of Europe -- Spain, Portugal, Sweden, Italy, France, England, Austria, Switzerland...
Worked in an Irish pub in Germany. Laugh all you want, but this job gives me bragging rights.
Did research at tourist sites in England (Canterbury and York) during senior year of college. Wrote a thesis on it, also co-authored a paper with my professor and a couple other students that made it into a real journal.
Worked at Girl Scout camps and was an assistant troop leader, then later worked for a council. For some reason never signed up for a lifetime membership, oddly.
Did AmeriCorps*VISTA service for two years. Worked mostly on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. I speak a little Lakota.
Lived in the Black Hills of South Dakota -- did a lot of hiking and had buffalo encounters.
Was in Search & Rescue and was a volunteer firefighter with the Rockerville VFD.
Climbed Cloud Peak and Bighorn Peak in the Cloud Peak Wilderness in Wyoming. Also lead a group of high school girls on a backpacking trip there -- a *successful* trip, unlike the one I went on with 4-H when I was 13.
Worked in a health food store -- learned a lot about supplements and herbs. Also spilled 5 gallons of honey on the floor one day.
Went on a major rock art finding mission in the Black Hills one winter -- out every weekend and found lots of sites most people will never see.
Applied to graduate school for Linguistics and German MA programs -- was admitted to U of New Mexico, U of Utah, and CU Boulder. Did not go to any of them, but deferred admission to Boulder for a year.
Moved to Grand Junction, Colorado for a part-time job with a UU church and with a boyfriend -- big risk, ultimately worth it.
Worked for a public library part-time.
Worked for REI part time -- awesome gear discount, amassed lots more outdoor gear knowledge.
Have a whole list of Colorado outdoor adventures...
- climbed 13 Colorado 14er's, attempted Long's Peak also
- backpacked and hiked in Canyonlands and Arches NP's
- explored lots of Anasazi ruins in Grand Gulch / Cedar Creek area
- ran half marathon distance once a week, plus other shorter runs other days, every week during spring and summer of 2006
Applied for a MA in Linguistics program at Uni Freiburg and was admitted. Could not go because American banks will not make loans for degree programs in Germany -- never understood that.
Met a guy from India who was finishing his PhD. Battled his parents to get permission to marry, moved to CA together.
Did not work for a whole fall in CA. Partly by choice, partly not.
Scored 750 on my GMAT.
Traveled to India for the first time to plan the wedding. Nearly had the whole thing called off and fought for another month to get it to happen. Lost opportunity to have any friends attend. Should have been a sign.
Started working in the oilfields -- never thought I'd end up there.
Had a big Hindu wedding in India -- great experience in the end.
Promoted to high level management position in my company. Finally making the big bucks, after years with non-profits.
Was admitted to Duke Fuqua School of Business CCMBA program!!
Second wedding ceremony in Iowa -- beautiful, but plenty of drama with his family behind the scenes.
Started MBA program, have been submerged in it ever since.
Traveled to China for school.
Marriage began seriously falling apart, as opposed to just beginning to unravel at the seams.
Started rock climbing. Almost done with school. Need to figure out what to do next.
current music: Christmas songs
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| Friday, December 19th, 2008
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8:33 pm - Winter Solstice
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7:49 am - fight it off...
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Big weekend of things to do:
- finish Negotiations paper
- finish Leadership paper
- buy remaining Christmas gifts
- work on PhD applications
- clean the house
- plan something for New Year's
- try not to hate the holidays
Too many days I feel like I have nothing to look forward to, and that's a rough feeling this time of year.
Sid's off to Fresno today to get a travel authorization for his interim Green Card status, so he can go to a job interview in Norway in January. He has another potential opportunity in Scotland. Both places I would have been interested in living, if it made any sense to keep pursuing this. Instead, there is a really good chance I'll be moving to an apartment on my own before the last term of school, or by April at the latest. Really depressing.
Things I'm grateful for:
- rock climbing class; gives me something to look forward to and
- connecting with old friends, even though it's hard to bring them up to speed
- going to finish the MBA degree, barring something really unforeseen
- there's someone out there I'm meant to be with, I hope
current mood: fighting to stay positive
current music: NPR
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| Monday, November 17th, 2008
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5:49 pm - life in hours and halves
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if you plan to cross Siberia, count every 1000 steps as a goal achieved. (thank you, bear grylls of man vs wild, for that one.)
my 1000 steps per weeknight:
1 hour - work out (read homework if at gym)
1/2 hour - job and/or Ph.D. applications
1/2 hour - make dinner, eat
1/2 hour - sort papers (during Daily Show)
1/2 hour - write email (during Colbert Report)
1 hour - more homework
repeat, repeat, repeat
priorities for Siberia -- stay warm, stay fueled, stay hydrated, stay away from bears.
priorities for life:
1) the person - husband
2) the PLACE - lost track of this one before, will not again
3) the job - enjoy your work
3) the people - connections to friends and family
4) the money - person before money, place before money, job before money, people before money... but money does still matter. this is no longer AmeriCorps.
current mood: goal-oriented
current music: jesus christ superstar... home alone and can sing!
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4:26 pm - a novella
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note: this journal would be 45 pages long, if you printed it. not, of course, recommended.
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4:05 pm - goals!
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new goals:
do homework for MBA program - don't let senioritis set in
apply for Ph.D. programs
- London Business School
- INSEAD
- Uni Mannheim
apply for jobs in Europe
- P&G in Germany - done
- find more!
keep training for mountain climbing - get out at least every other weekend
get rid of stuff - old clothes, papers... jesus, do i have a lot of stuff
make the split amicable
current music: keane
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| Friday, November 14th, 2008
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10:39 pm - it's my heart
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I love Pandora.com. Great for finding new songs and artists like the ones you already like. I have a "station" seeded with Radiohead, Coldplay, David Gray, The Bluetones, etc.
A simple, ear-catching song played on it a couple days ago, and I just heard it again... The Perishers, "My Heart".
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It’s my heart you’re stealing
It’s my heart you take
It’s my heart you’re dealing with
And it’s my heart you’ll break
...
Simple, lovely. Highly recommend a listen.
Post before this one is "friends only", so all the substance beyond a song recommendation is there.
current mood: avoiding reading for school
current music: The Perishers, "My Heart"
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| Wednesday, November 12th, 2008
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10:49 pm - looking for mondays
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"Am I allowed to say I am missing you?"
If you close your eyes tightly as the tears well up, it sounds like distant thunder in your head. Like a storm rising on the plains.
Then the rain falls.
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| Sunday, November 9th, 2008
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5:37 pm - Alta Peak - in November!
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The Alta Peak climb went well. 13.4 miles round trip, 7200 to 11200 feet. Not bad for November. There were snow fields at the top, but it was left from an earlier snowfall and there was no avalance potential. In fact, it was just the right consistency for climbing and descending. Gotta love those south facing slopes.
I carried a ridiculous amount of winter gear -- base layer, mid-layer, softshell and full rain suit. Plus 40-below rated mittens, Yaktrax (didn't go quite as far as crampons), etc. I wore almost none of it, except at the summit. Oh well... I was totally ready to hike out after dark in a winter storm, if I'd needed. Normally I'm a fan of ultralight hiking, but now I'm apparently training for Basecamp someday.
I also carried way, way too much food.
It's weird... I've been eating so little lately -- chalk that up to the recent depression -- that I consumed a grand total of 400 calories the whole climb... 3 packets of Gu, one bite of a disgusting Powermax bar, two squares of an almond chocolate bar, and a thumb-sized piece of jerky. I have no idea how I managed that -- I kept thinking I should eat more, but couldn't force anything down. Can't have been particularly healthy. I did make myself eat some almonds post-hike and a NY strip for dinner for muscle recovery, but didn't really want any of it. I normally like food, but my appetite is just gone. Not, not, not a good sign.
Overall it was a strange hike physically -- not only did I carry more than I have in a long time and eat way less than I should have, but I managed to ignore serious blisters. They kicked in around mile 2.5 -- I put moleskin on, but it was too late. The moleskin slid off (probably five minutes after I put it on, since that's how worthless moleskin is) and my socks were bloody when I took them off. I paid for that dearly during the post-climb shower. The first blast of water on the blisters was excruciating.
The very top if Alta Peak (like the last 10 huge boulders) is probably Class 3, especially with the ice, but you have to do it if you want to sign the registry. I did, but probably wouldn't have if it weren't for the German father-son duo who were the only other people up that day. Good thing we arrived around the same time. I probably wouldn't have done the scrambling if there hadn't been someone there to at least notify the authorities of my death. Bonus: Someone else took my photo, so I got a full body shot instead of the hideous close-up self portrait.
So all in all it was a great climb -- all the challenges I could have hoped for (and more) and the scars to prove it.
current mood: accomplished
current music: NPR
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| Friday, November 7th, 2008
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7:24 pm - Term 7 Itch, Part II
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We're in the John Muir Lodge at Kings Canyon National Park tonight. There are a couple families with a lot of kids playing charades. So far these kids have quoted C & C Music Factory's "Everybody Dance Now" and "Who Let the Dogs Out?" (Must confess I do not remember the artist on that one anymore. That's a damn shame.) How in the world do kids between 4 and 10 know these songs? Are their parents playing these classic 90's hits on this vacation road trip? That would be messed up.
I'm now really glad my parents' vacation playlist consisted of Garrison Keillor and The Kingston Trio. Way less embarrassing for me over the long run. On the other hand, the kids are bilingual -- parents speaking English and Spanish with them -- which is highly enviable.
On to the serious stuff. As noted in the previous post, things were not so hot when I returned from Shanghai in August. I did not feel any real joy at returning home.
Factors:
- Not enough time in China to see everything desired.
- Realizing the CCMBA program will soon be over, with no more guaranteed week-long residencies with friends on the horizon.
- Bakersfield is a terrible place. Bad air, over 100F from May through October, very conservative, and it takes over an hour to get to any trails (2 hours for anything really good).
- My social life in Bakersfield is terrible. I have no close friends here, because we moved here in 2006 and I was holed up studying for the GMAT, finding a job, getting married, moving house, then starting Duke. Plus didn't really see the point in reaching out - Bako is temporary.
- My job is okay, but we're a regional company. So I know I'll have to leave in order to achieve the desired result of getting the hell out of Bako.
- Relationship concerns (may elaborate on this is a "friends only" post).
Things got better when my sister- and brother-in-law visited with their baby over Labor Day. She is a joyous little baby and pretty hard to be negative around. We also visited San Francisco, which gave me hope for potential next career / school steps.
But last week was Term 7 residency, and things are much, much worse upon this return home.
Factors:
- Only one residency left for CCMBA, then whirlwind graduation weekend.
- We were paired with the Duke Goethe program. I met some great people and now miss them, too.
- Economy has worsened significantly and I'm worried I won't get a job in Europe. (Or anywhere, for that matter.)
- I no longer report to the president of our company. He promoted our Admin Manager to VP and put her over the Safety Manager and me, so she can "give direction" to the Safety Manager (which he doesn't really need... they just need to give him a few more months in the position) and the president can do more business development. Not that I was preventing that, since I talked to him about 5 minutes a week as it was. Since the Safety Mgr and I have equal positions and work closely together, I get to go along for this little ride. I have to say, I liked that I reported to the prez... a little boost in stature that made that 2 hours of daily commuting more worthwhile.
- Have had some serious thoughts about my long-term need to climb mountains and have the right kind of relationship with my husband, and how these things fit with the current forecast for the future.
Still a lot more to analysis to go here, but the wireless doesn't work in the room and I need to get a good night's sleep. I'm off to meet the winter storm gods on the mountain tomorrow. And maybe still wrestle a bear.
current mood: stormy
current music: someone else's charades!
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10:32 am - Term 7 Itch
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It's Term 7 break. I'm over 3/4 of the way through my MBA, and I seem to have hit a serious transition point.
After our Term 6 residency in Shanghai, I was feeling really down about coming home. It was starting to dawn on me that my time with this great new group of friends / classmates is going to end soon. Our last residency together will be in January, we'll see each other briefly and hecticly during graduation, and then most of us will gradually fall out of touch.
It is understandable that I would be starting to anticipate some grief, but I have come to realize that some other, deeper things seem to be wrong.
I'm about to head to the mountains for the weekend. I'll hopefully have some really good time to think and write more, to try to get some perspective. With any luck, maybe I will have a grand adventure, be able to write a book about it, and then my worries about finding a job and leaving Bakersfield will be handled. I can always hope... Maybe I'll get in a wrestling match with a bear.
current mood: low on hope
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| Saturday, March 8th, 2008
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4:16 pm - finals week
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This is the beginning of finals week for Term 3. So clearly, now that I have two final exams downloaded and waiting for me to look at them, it is the best time to do anything else possible online. Perhaps I'll do some shopping, look up information on the Genographic project... anything, really.
I did participate in National Geographic's Genographic project. Ordinary folks can pay $100 to have their DNA analyzed and learn their ancient ancestry -- very cool. The proceeds are used to run tests on people in developing countries. Turns out my ancient maternal ancestors left Africa in the second wave, spent some time in the Middle East / Central Asia, then headed for the far north in Scandinavia. Very interesting, given that our genealogy only traces my mom's side back to England / Ireland. There were certainly many migrations from Scandinavia to the British Isles, though, so between tens of thousands of years ago and just one thousand ago leaves lots of room for travel.
I am a little jealous of those with XY chromosomes in this case, because they can trace both their paternal and maternal lineage. I guess I could learn my "paternal lineage" by getting my dad to participate in the project, though. I sense a Father's Day gift idea!
Otherwise I've been running between 15 and 20 miles a week since the beginning of the year, other than when I was in Brussels and then had bronchitis for a week. Not bad. Certainly not as stellar as my record a couple summers ago in Grand Junction, but given that I'm working full time (with a two hour commute) and going to school full time, it's good enough.
On with the exams!
current music: wind chimes
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| Sunday, February 10th, 2008
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7:23 pm - 1 year, 3 months later
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That was a long, long break from the Live Journal. I'm inspired by my sister's account of her current month in South Africa to catch up a little.
Highlights since the last entry:
NOVEMBER:
November India trip ended badly. Spent a couple weeks convincing Sid's parents to carry on with the wedding. (Tragic documentation of this under my alter ego blog -- going to let that fade into the sunset now, though.)
DECEMBER:
His parents came around, but not before the friends I had considering attending the wedding bailed out. Cannot blame them.
Interviewed for and was offered two oil industry jobs -- tough decision between the two. Still working at the one I selected.
Did not get offered the university job.
Mazal, my pet ferret since 2001, passed away in mid-December.
Finished portfolio for CVA application.
Traveled to Santa Fe and Taos for Christmas.
JANUARY:
Continued turmoil and potential calling off of wedding all the way until the week before the wedding... good times.
Finished application for Duke MBA program before wedding.
Wedding in India! It happened after all.
FEBRUARY:
Mini-honeymoon in Yosemite. Sunny and beautiful.
Participated on CVA exam writing committee... granted CVA one week after helping to write following year's test ;)
Given a promotion to Training & Behavior Based Safety Manager at work. I'm a manager as of March 19!
Admitted to Duke's Cross Continent MBA program, Class of 2009!!!
MARCH:
Traveled to San Antonio for BST User's Conference. Great city.
Moved from the rented apartment to a bigger rental house.
MAY / APRIL:
Planned wedding ceremony #2, to be held in July in Iowa.
JUNE:
Sid's parents visited in June. Many stories to tell after that one. The book on cultural differences will be entertaining and harrowing, for sure.
JULY:
Second wedding ceremony in Iowa.
Started Duke MBA program with a two week residency in Durham -- great experience. These are going to be friends for life. My new Indian "brothers" are the best... I have a feeling they are going to really help me navigate this whole cross-cultural marriage thing. Plus I got to visit Anne... nice added bonus.
AUGUST / SEPTEMBER:
Survived Term 1 of MBA program.
OCTOBER:
Week long residency for Term 2. Visited Grandma the following weekend. Duke is very conveniently located for seeing family.
NOVEMBER:
Mom & Dad visited us in California for the first time over Thanksgiving. Lots of fun!
The gray cat who apparently used to live in this house -- adopted us. We named her Blitzen. She's super sweet. Never thought I'd want a cat, but they are really clean pets with lots of character.
DECEMBER:
Survived Term 2.
Christmas in Tahoe! Crazy 3 day trip, with almost 2 full days of driving. Stayed in a cabin with a giant buffalo head overlooking the bed.
JANUARY:
Officially adopted Blitzen by taking her to the vet. She'd disappeared for a full day after we were back from Tahoe, so we knew we needed to put her in a kennel when we were both away for a week in January. Found out she'd been digging in the neighbors' trash... awesome. That's our phone number on her collar.
Sid spent most of month visiting India. I couldn't go because of school.
Term 3 residency in Brussels, Belgium. Lots of fun and very little sleep. Yes, I drank plenty of beer and tried plenty of chocolate. Really developing some awesome, life-long friendships. Only con was being in separate countries on our first anniversary... we made it!
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| Tuesday, December 12th, 2006
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4:57 pm - India trip - day 4
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Day 4 – Thursday, November 23 (Thanksgiving):
I slept until about 3 a.m., when I needed to use the restroom. I tried to fight off the urge, but – as when camping – decided I would not manage to sleep again unless I went. So I padded down the hall to the bathroom. I pushed on the door, but it appeared to be locked. I figured someone was using it. There was a bedroom door on each side of the bathroom, which were all wide open. I could hear some snoring.
Cultural difference #6: Indians often keep their doors open while sleeping, even if the room has a closable door. Sometimes they use curtains to cover the door, other times they are wide open.
I padded back down the hall to wait on whoever was using the bathroom. After about 15 minutes, I decided to try my luck again. Still locked. I wondered if anyone was lying awake in either of the two bedrooms, wondering what the heck was wrong with me. I retreated to my room again, but something seemed fishy. There was no light in the bathroom (no light cracks around the door,) so it seemed that perhaps no one was in there. So why was it locked?
Sid had vaguely pointed at the “Indian style” bathroom when we had first arrived in the house, so I decided to look for it. I opened a closet. Hmmm… no luck with that plan. All of the other doors appeared to lead to sleeping areas.
I went back to my room and actually started crying. I really did not want to wake anyone up. It was dark and I did not know which people were in which rooms. I would not have minded waking Sid, a cousin, Mammi, or even Ma, but I would have been embarrassed to wake Dad, Uncle, or Massi (whom I had not yet met… didn’t seem like a great introduction.) But I really needed to pee, and it would be about three hours before anyone else would be up. I did not want to lose that three hours of precious sleep, either. Sleep deprivation and wedding shopping with my future mother-in-law did not appear a healthy blend.
I briefly pondered going outside, but that seemed likely to make the neighbors talk about the crazy American. It’s probably good that I did not resort to that option, as it turns out that they have aggressive monkeys in the neighborhood. It would have been exceptionally poor form to get bitten by a primate while peeing in the lawn at 3 a.m. Would have made my former fears of midnight mountain lion attacks while camping pale in comparison, really.
I decided to give the bathroom door another try, and wake someone if I absolutely had to. I seemed to recall something on the door below the handle, and, sure enough, it was a bolt. The door was bolted from the outside! What?! Oh well… in I went. I could not find the light switch, but heck with it. I eyeballed the path to the toilet, closed the door behind me, and felt my way across the room. Challenge overcome. I went back to bed, but I had difficulty sleeping after that half hour of anxiety.
Note to self: Always ask for a tour of a new place before going to bed – note critical amenities, namely sources of potable water and toilets.
Around 5:00 or 5:30 a.m. I needed to use the restroom again, and I heard Mammi in the kitchen. I asked her to show me the lightswitch in the bathroom – this turned out to be conveniently located about six feet up on the wall. (Yes, above my head.) So I did not feel foolish about that question. I went back to bed, and just as I was finally falling back to sleep, Sid came in to wake me to meet Massi. Damn. Thus a restless night came to an end.
I went to meet Massi, although I was still wearing my pajamas. She, Ma, Sanjana, and Arjun were all lying under blankets on the bed in Sanjana’s room. This made it difficult to do the requisite foot touch, but I tried. She presented me with two shawls, and I wrapped myself up in one. Mammi brought us tea and we looked at photos of Massi’s daughter on Sanjana’s computer. We all sat around and talked (well, I listened to the bits and pieces I understood.) Then Sid and Arjun decided to take me to the doctors’ – Mammi’s brother and his wife – down the street. We walked there, but both were out. We met Mammi’s mother, who must be in her 70s. I asked Sid if we could go for a walk in the park again, to make sure I got some exercise before eating again.
We came back to the house and we had Massi’s gobi (cauliflower) paranthas, pomegranate, and yogurt for breakfast. I also took a bucket bath. I made sure I had a complete working knowledge of the bathroom before letting Sid move on to other things. They did actually have a shower head, but it was not connected to the hot water. Overall I was in a bright mood, though, and not feeling ill anymore.
After my bath I got dressed and ready, and I took some photos of the back garden, the street, etc. A couple of religious beggars came to the front gate and asked for alms in return for a blessing. Sid and Arjun told them no, but they kept asking. We decided to go inside, but Ma and Massi were mopping the floor and tried to shoo us back out. We waited in Arjun’s bedroom until they went away, then went back outside.
The recycling guy came by on his bike, and Sid and Arjun explained that he buys trash from people then sells it to others. He actually makes a profit doing this, but it’s very small. He buys trash for maybe 5 rupees a kilogram and sells it for about 7. So he rides a bike all day long, which presumably gets heavier as he goes along. It is an old bike, too, so probably not a smooth and gliding gear mechanism. God knows how many calories he must burn, and he’s making maybe a 2 rupee profit per kilo of garbage. Sid and Arjun barely blink at this – they realize it does not quite seem just, but it is simply the way things are in India.
I took the man’s photo, and he was kind enough to get off his bike and smile for me. If I had been carrying any money, I would have tipped him. It turns out that many services come via bicycle from home to home, including the milk man, the vegetable guy, etc.
When Ma and Massi finished cleaning the house, we – Ma, Massi, Arjun, Sid, and me – finally headed for South Ex for our wedding shopping. It must have been almost 11 a.m. when we departed. I was beginning to understand that mornings start later in India, and everything is delayed accordingly. We stopped on the way at a coconut water stand. The vendor takes unripe coconuts, slices off their tops, and you drink the water from the inside. This water would eventually become the meat and milk of a ripe coconut, but it has a much milder flavor and lower fat content when unripe. Good stuff. We also had some baked and spiced tubers of some kind, served in a little banana leaf dish. Also good.
Then we were off to the wedding shop. Our first mission was to find my lehenga – a skirt, blouse, and matching shawl, all with heavy sequin-, stone-, and or embroidery-work. My (mistaken) understanding was that this would be my main wedding dress, for the wedding ceremony. So it appeared to be an important selection. We looked at lots of options, and I outlawed all pink and purple selections. Rust was apparently “out” this season, so that left some various shades of red. Of the ones we liked, the salesmen would belt the skirt material around the front of my waist, then drape the dupatta (shawl) around my shoulders. I think I tried on eight or so, and it was a long process. We ordered in lime water and lunch while shopping.
I finally had it narrowed down to four choices. One of my top choices sort of disappeared onto the rejects pile, as it did not match the jewelry set Ma had picked out for me. During the try-on period, Sid had told me the one I really liked was expensive. However, he did not tell me that Ma was not concerned about the price. (As it turned out later, his parents might have preferred something expensive since weddings are such status affairs in India.) I really was not ready to decide, but it appeared that everyone was going to sit and stare at me until I did so. I picked one with Kashmiri metalwork… not my top choice, but of the ones that were not as expensive, it was the one everyone else liked. It was a frustrating experience.
We moved on to selecting saris for the ring ceremony, and the salesmen draped those around me as well. Again I had to battle down many pink options. Pink looks great on Indian skin tones, but not on me; the only people who have ever called me pink (as opposed to white) are Indians, after all. No need to highlight it further. None of the options suited us in the end, and we departed for another store.
The day sort of became a blur of stops. Massi bought some spiced sweet corn that she, Arjun, and I ate while rushing around after Ma. I was still shoving a mouthful of it down when we entered another sari shop. We looked at more sari options but again did not find anything. Ma and Massi went on to look at saris for other family members, and I was glad for the break.
It might have been after this store that Ma sent Arjun, Sid, and I out to go look at a wedding item for Sid. He would not look at much however, and kept saying he would just wear jeans. I told him I did not find that particularly funny, as it was at least the fifth time he had said it that day. I semi-jokingly said that I would not marry him if I was wearing an 8 kilogram dress and he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and I reprimanded him for not being more helpful in selecting his clothes. This took Arjun a bit aback – I apparently did not sound quite joking enough, but I was feeling a little pinched at having tried on 20 dresses and still listening to Sid make the same crack about jeans and a T-shirt. I was definitely getting tired.
We went in a jewelry store to look at diamond sets. We had one saleswoman waiting on us, and two or three men bringing us coffees (thank heavens!) and carting samples back and forth. Ma favored a ruby set that cost 200,000 rupees. That’s $5,000. Considering that almost anything can be purchased cheaper in India, I imagine it would have run at least $7,000 if purchased in America.
I was starting to get more decisive, having recognized that being wishy-washy was not Ma’s style. I eliminated sets for various reasons – too big, too geometrical, assymetrical, and so on. The price of the ruby set was a real detractor (if the lehenga was too expensive at about one quarter of 200,000 Rs, surely this was over the top) and I did not like the dangling strands on the earrings. I liked a peridot set that cost only 50,000 rupees, so I ultimately settled on that one.
I also found a wedding ring. This was difficult, as it had to fit next to and somewhat match the ring Sid gave me when he proposed. (I had initially asked him to buy this himself, so his parents would not be involved in the hassle, but he felt that we would get better quality for less money in India.) I found one I liked fairly quickly, as I was able to describe to the English-speaking saleswoman what I preferred.
I think we finally ended our shopping excursion thereafter, as I was discussing diamond size with Sid while we were nearly getting run down and honked at in the parking lot.
I was definitely ready to head home and rest for dinner, but it was not to be. My left contact was starting to bother me, and I could not find a clean place to fix it. That was unfortunate, because Ma and Massi decided it would be a good time to go to Dilli Haat to buy folk art and gifts. Arjun and Sid went to buy tickets, and Ma, Massi, and I went through the metal detectors. We waited for about two minutes, but Ma decided our time would be better spent shopping. Off we wandered, leaving Sid and Arjun to find us if they could. Ma kept trying to buy me things, but I really was not in the mood to select anything – my eye was really bothering me. Sid and Arjun finally found us, and I walked around the market with Sid. We ended up buying some bottled water to help me fix my eye, but it did not work. I just wanted to get out of there and find some contact lens solution (I had forgotten to bring it from Gurgaon to Faridabad.)
Ma and Massi helped me buy one gift for my grandma, and we headed back to Faridabad. I was starting to fall asleep in the car when we pulled over to buy contact solution at a pharmacy. Then we continued on our way. This was the car trip during which I understood enough of what Ma was saying to correct my dad’s age for Massi, and somehow the topic of Irish people came up. I cannot remember how… but I did say that I have Irish ancestry, which caused Ma to start laughing and shouting about Irish whiskey. I assured them (and Sid translated) that my grandfather did not drink at all. What an odd conversation. Wish I had understood more of it.
That evening we were to have dinner at the hotel where the wedding will be held. When we arrived, Sid took me to see the grounds. I could tell that something was bothering him, so I asked. He said that I was showing my tiredness too much, and it was making things hard for him. I reminded him that I had been up since 3 a.m., did wedding shopping for hours and hours, and now was having pain in my left eye. The only part anyone else had experienced was the shopping – they had slept well and were not suffering contact lens issues. He said I still needed to not show it as much.
We looked at the grounds by the pool, and then I went to the restroom and cried. A long and tiring day, and now my fiance – my only support amidst a sea of Hindi-speaking strangers – was getting impatient with me. I tried to talk to him about it after coming out of the restroom, but he was in a hurry to meet everyone else. One of the hotel staff gave us fresh juice, and off we went to see the family. Uncle and Mammi asked how I was doing, and I said I was tired from all the shopping but it had been fun. Then we went on to dinner.
Dinner was quite formal – only us in the dining room, and the service was top notch. (This is uncle’s specialty, and he is the manager of the hotel.) All of the conversation proceeded in Hindi as usual, and I was beginning to feel a little left out. Sid said one or two things in English to me during the meal, but I had a feeling he was still irritated with me and was just keeping up appearances. That part was not fun, despite the meal being delicious and everyone being in generally good spirits. I discovered that I eat more slowly than anyone else. The servers kept circling the table with more food, but I only ate one plate full. Dad actually got a little brusque with the servers about not bringing any more food until we finished some of it. They brought pan at the end of the meal, a leaf stuffed with spices that is meant to freshen the breath and aid digestion. I had tasted it in New York City, which surprised everyone. My only complaint is that it takes forever to chew.
Then it was off to our rooms, and I was still trying to chew my pan. They had made arrangements for us to stay at the hotel, thinking it would be more comfortable for me. That was too kind. I somehow ended up walking by Uncle and Arjun, with the women and Sid trailing quite a ways behind. They showed me my room, which was quite nice. After a little talking Uncle, Massi, Mammi, and Arjun prepared to leave. Sid brought me the phone to call my parents for Thanksgiving. He dialed the number and pushed send, so I barely had a chance to say goodbye to everyone. I went in the room to make my call.
I was feeling a little down from the evening’s events and being tired from the day. I made it through the first few minutes of the conversation okay, although I regretted the rushed decision on the wedding dress. But when I began to relate Sid’s impatience with me, I started crying. Sid walked in at that point to tell me to bring the call to a close, and he heard what I said. However, his mom walked in right after. She saw me crying and asked what was wrong. I told her I was just missing my family on Thanksgiving, so she would not worry. But then she and Sid went back to their room (right next door, apparently) and started shouting at each other. Great. Sid never came back to let me know whether things were okay, so I was left to worry all night that the shouting had been about me (it was.) I went to the shower and cried some more, hoping no one would hear me. Here I was with my fiance impatient with me, cut off from talking to my mom – the one friendly and kind person available at that moment – and people shouting about me in the next room. What a great trip.
I had trouble finding the light in the hotel room and I could not bolt the door. After 15 minutes of failed attempts, I found the light and went to bed.
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3:08 pm - India trip - day 3
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Day 3 – Wednesday, November 22:
I woke up early again, to the usual sounds of street noise and the braying donkey. We had a slow start to the morning, with everyone taking showers and eating paranthas for breakfast. We had paranthas most days.
While on the balcony this day, I noticed the shanty town across the road. There is a huge amount of new development in Gurgaon – nice apartment complexes, shopping malls, high tech businesses (Dell’s second India operation was just down the road, for instance.) All of this has gone up in the last few years, and there are still shanty towns and stretches of barren land between the new buildings. From the ninth story, I could see men stopping for toilet breaks in the field between the shanty town and the road – no septic systems in their homes. I felt very appreciative of the two bathrooms and hot water in Sid’s parents’ apartment, which even included shower heads in additional to the traditional Indian bucket baths. The gap between rich and poor is absolutely stunning in this country.
Ma showed me several of Shruti’s old kurtas (this time waist-length ones, not knee-length.) Most of them did not fit, as Shruti stands about six inches shorter than me. Ma decided to have the seams on one of them let out, and another actually fit as it was. She also showed me her closet, full of hundreds of saris and suits.
Later in the morning Ma, Sid and I went to the tailor to order my first suit. We had a heck of a time finding the place. We received directions in one portion of the shopping center, sending us across the dirt parking lot to the next building. We circled that building entirely, asking at least three times where the ladies’ tailor was. There were only men available to ask, which may have been part of our problem. We finally found it downstairs. Who would have imagined that such a ramshackle building would have a downstairs? But in India it appears that structural concerns are not, well... concerns.
The tailor took my measurements and we left the fabrics for my first two suits behind. There were at least seven employees working in that bedroom-sized shop – amazing. Two or three taking orders and measurements, four at sewing machines, another sitting on the floor doing embroidery on fabric stretched on a low rack. It was pretty warm even in November… I cannot imagine what July would feel like.
On the way back to the first building I saw a dirty little puppy lying on the ground sleeping. There were many, many stray dogs around, but this was the first puppy I had seen. I pointed it out to Sid in my “sympathy for hurting animals” voice; Sid’s mom asked him something in Hindi. He said something about a janvar (animal), so I gathered that he had needed to explain that nothing was actually wrong with me, just that I pitied that poor, dirty little dog.
We bought some contact eye drops for me to use on the flight home. It was rather difficult to feel that this was an appropriate place to buy “hygienic” pharmaceuticals after walking past a bunch of dirty dogs and garbage on the ground moments before. I think I truly appreciated that little plastic seal on the cap for the first time in my life.
Next we stopped at another tailor in the main building of the shopping center. His “shop” consisted of a sewing machine occupying a spot on the covered walkway, with a pile of clothes for alterations stacked behind him. Ma arranged for him to let out the seams on the kurta for a whopping 20 rupees… that’s about 50 cents. I found the price stunning… I am guessing it would take about 20 minutes for the operation, and I imagine other, less wealthy-looking customers might bargain him down to even less. It made me feel sort of sick. I know these are normal wages in India, but damn.
I think we had lunch after our little shopping trip, as opposed to before. Meals are one thing I have lost track of in waiting to write everything. After lunch we rested and waited to start our wedding shopping after Mammi was done with teaching school for the day. Massi was also coming to town that night, which was exciting.
While waiting around I began to notice that my stomach was not feeling very good, for the first time during the trip. At first I decided it was because I was not getting any exercise. It had now been five days since I had a proper cardio workout, and it appeared my digestive system was now preparing to go on strike. Great. I tried to do some Pilates while waiting around for the next family activity, but to little avail.
Around 4:00 p.m. the sky darkened and a thunderstorm started. That changed our plans for the day. Instead of risking flooded streets by going for shopping in South Ex (short for South Extension, part of Delhi,) we would go to stay with Mammi and family in Faridabad. I was told to pack an overnight bag for one, maybe two, days. I obliged, emptying my small backpack and repacking all of my things. After an hour or so, we departed. We passed through a fair amount of countryside on the way. I was not feeling great to begin with, and the bumpy ride did not help. During the car ride the conversation turned to a family drama that I had been unfortunately dragged into in September. I could catch enough of the conversation to know the topic and know that Sid’s and my handling of the issue was not ideal. It was not much fun to know that they were talking about – maybe even criticizing – me while I was sitting there in the car. At least the sights were interesting.
We arrived in Faridabad a little before dinner time. I met Uncle – Sid’s Mom’s brother – for the first time, and he was very kind. They served us snacks and drinks, but I was on a steady health decline. Sid came up with the idea that I should accompany him and Arjun to pick up Massi from the train station at 11:30 p.m. At first I thought the idea sounded fun, but it quickly became clear that my body was not in favor of a late night. It was, in fact, not in favor of anything. I told Sid I was feeling really unwell from not exercising, so we decided to go for a walk. The rain had petered out, so we went to a nearby park. I had noticed that the house had a limited number of beds, and I began to wonder what the sleeping arrangements were going to be. I asked Sid, and he said I’d probably be sharing a bed or sleeping on the floor.
Oh.
Now normally I am pretty tough about these things – I am a backpacker, after all, and I have slept in some rough conditions. But the idea of sharing a bed with family members I barely knew and was desperately hoping to impress was not appealing – what if I snored? What if I could not sleep well and wound up feeling cranky during wedding shopping the next day? The prospect seemed 100 times worse now that I was feeling tired and ill. He also told me there was no shower and perhaps no hot water. Again… things I can normally handle, but not when I am sick and not the day I need to be rested and clean to be on my absolute best behavior for wedding shopping. God damn.
I was pretty darn mad at Sid for not giving me a better description of what I should expect in Faridabad. We walked around and around that park, me wondering whether I would be able to handle a lifetime of this apparent lack of communication. We both were making our own assumptions, but I felt it was fair to expect a bit more in the way of descriptions from him. He has lived in the US for six years, after all, so surely he would have noticed a difference or two. I, on the other hand, was in my first four days in India, and I had no idea what to expect nor even what questions to ask. Auuugghh. He promised me he would do better the next time around and would see if he could get me a semi-private and comfortable spot to sleep, at least, so I could recover from feeling ill.
Note to self: Always ask for details on accommodations when going somewhere new. Advanced mental preparation is the best defense in dealing with almost any unusual lodging arrangement.
When we returned to the house, I went to bed without dinner. Mammi wanted me to sleep with Sanjana, but Sid told her that I was ill and arrangements were made for me to have my own room. That was very kind. I think I went to bed by 9:00 p.m., maybe a little earlier. Everyone was worried about me and I felt bad about turning down their food and taking up a whole bed to myself. But I needed to get well or that wedding shopping was going to be a nightmare.
I heard noise and chatter for awhile before falling asleep, and I woke again briefly when the guys arrived with Massi, presumably after midnight.
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11:09 am - India trip - day 2
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Day 2 – Tuesday, November 21:
I woke up fairly early on Tuesday morning, thanks to all the new sounds outside. There was a donkey braying somewhere in the neighborhood, as well as the usual car horns, people talking, etc. I thought the windows were open, but it turns out the sound just carries.
We did not have time for breakfast (mistake!), as we needed to head to the American Embassy for Sid’s visa appointment. Sid’s dad had arranged a driver for us, and off we went. It took us about 45 minutes to drive from Gurgaon to downtown New Delhi, and everything was new to me.
The embassy was an interesting experience. No photos are allowed anywhere outside nor inside the building. It is not possible to park particularly close to the building, and the roads have barricades on each corner. It is possible to drive through, but your car must be small and you must go slowly. Our driver waited somewhere around a corner for us.
Once on foot, there is an outdoor security check. The Indian staffers check your passport and documents, rifle through your bags and run a metal detecting wand over you. Sid had to open everything in his bag – including an innocuous, sealed #10 envelope that contained his university transcript. I, on the other hand, received stunningly polite treatment as a US citizen – they barely looked in my purse and kindly pointed out that I would not be able to take photos. Although I could have raced through the completely empty “US Citizen services” line, I chose to wait with Sid in the non-immigrant visa line for about 20 minutes.
Our next step was an outdoor window, at which the Indian staffer had posted two small photos of his wife and baby, both looking fairly mortified. He took one look at the cover of my passport and waved me on through. Then we went through more serious security at the door manned by at least four Indian security guards. We had to check all bags and metal items, from my camera to Sid’s car keys. We also walked through an airport style metal detector and were patted down. Fun.
Next an Indian gentleman directed us to the fingerprinting and photo line. One of the American staff walked by and saw me in line, and he jovially reassured me that they wouldn’t fingerprint me. Ha ha ha. Gee, thanks! That line took another 10 or 15 minutes, but it was fairly quick thanks to the streaming English/Hindi instructional video on proper fingerprinting technique. This window was also staffed by Indians.
Then we moved on to the actual appointment line. I had been expecting the appointment to take place in a private office for some reason, but not so. It was another series of windows, manned by clean cut, all-American staffers. (They actually looked more like Germans to me, with their classic blond haircuts and little glasses… true Hannoverians.) We waited another 15 or 20 minutes, I think. When I stepped up to the window with Sid, the gentleman asked if I was American. When I said, “Yes,” he told me I would have to go sit in the waiting area. I guess they did not want me to exert any undue influence on the visa approval process. So I grabbed a copy of the in-house magazine; I managed to pick up the July/August issue, which had a touching article on Independence Day celebrations in Lamoni, Iowa. Aw… The waiting area also had doughnuts, cookies, and coffee for sale. I will remember that if I am ever feeling really homesick in India.
Sid was done before I could finish the third paragraph of the article. I decided to use the toilet, thinking this would be as safe a place as any. Ha! It was the worst restroom I found in India, actually – an Indian-style floor toilet, cramped, and relatively dirty. Go figure.
We collected our checked items from security and left the embassy. Our driver pulled up shortly, and off we went. We briefly drove around the government buildings, such as the president’s palace, but we were unable to park for photos. (Turns out security was high because the Chinese prime minister was visiting.) I did not mind, however, as I was absolutely starving. Sid and our driver agreed that it would be difficult to eat out before 10 a.m., however. Bummer, because I was starting to feel nauseous. It had been at least 14 hours since I had eaten anything of substance, and the bad New Delhi air was starting to get to me. Thankfully Sid thought of Café Coffee Day, so we went there. On the way I saw my first beggar.
Cultural difference #2: The beggar came up to my car window, knocked and spoke to me; he was missing a foot and an arm, was wearing rags, and was horrifyingly thin… Jesus Christ. I felt absolutely terrible, sitting there with my $350 camera, on my way to eat at a fancy café. I asked whether it would be appropriate to do something, but Sid told me that people are not supposed to give them money, as they are “all drug addicts” and could get jobs if they wanted to. I asked whether missing a hand would impair one’s employability, and Sid did wonder about that particular challenge. (Frankly, I think I would also be a drug addict if I were missing major appendages and lived in a society with no social support, but I perhaps I am just weak.) I asked if I could give them food, and he said that would be okay.
At Café Coffee Day I bought a tin of oatmeal cookies – to stave off nausea and also to give to beggars. We had some curry pastry pockets and flavored sodas, and I used the free cappuccino coupon from my tin of cookies, too. We met a South African woman who had just spent six months working in Rajasthan, and she was very excited that I would get to have an Indian wedding. At one point I wanted to use the restroom, and Sid got up to point me in the right direction. A group of college students began to move to our seats, and I told Sid to quickly go back because our things were there. The students realized the mistake, apologized, and returned to their former seats. When I got back from the restroom, Sid said I should not have spoken out so, as the students had understood me and might have felt insulted. Oh well. I assured him that I would have had the same reaction in the United States, and I had not assumed that the students could not understand me. My concern had more to do with his proven forgetfulness (which I have become plenty familiar with over the last several months); he may not have remembered that my things were there. After all, he had his wallet on him and only my things (including aforementioned $350 camera, US passport, wallet w/ credit cards and driver’s license, and $100 REI jacket) were lying on the chair. I had a right to feel a little panicky.
After we finished at Café Coffee Day, we started for home. Sid pointed out the All India Medical Center and a couple markets, including Dilli Haat. We stopped briefly at a different outdoor market before heading home. We did not buy anything, but I was specifically offered the following items: a handbag, a belt, socks, a hanging string of cloth birds, and a tablecloth. I drew lots of stares… this was obviously not a common shopping destination for westerners. I took one photo, but the stares and extra attention really were not worth it.
We arrived home around noon and had lunch. After lunch Sid called me into the room he had stayed in – also the room with the household shrine. His mom showed me some fabrics for suits she wanted to have made for me. I was not sure if I was supposed to pick just one or what, and Sid wasn’t doing a very good job of explaining to me. She said I could take all four if I liked them, which I did.
She also showed me jewelry she wanted to give me for the wedding, including an antique gold set and a more modern diamond set. I felt a little strange having all these expensive pieces offered to me, honestly. Interestingly, the posts of the earring were astoundingly thick. They even had screw threads on them, because the backs screw on! She pushed one slightly less thick one through my ear, but there was no way I was going to attempt the posts on the antique set.
After lunch Sid and his dad both decided to take naps. Sid was apparently suffering a little more jetlag than I was, despite his sleeping more on the plane. I decided to start working on one of my Duke essays, but then his mom came in to talk to me. We actually had a nice conversation for a couple hours – all about family and Shruti’s wedding photos. Things were looking really bright.
Ma left me to rest around 4:00 or 4:30, but Sid got up shortly thereafter. He looked fairly stunned that his mom and I had been talking for the last couple hours, but his presence seems to stall Ma’s English efforts. I have the sense that she is a little embarrassed to speak English it in front of her husband and son, because theirs is better. (We had the same situation when I first met her in Laramie.)
Mammi and Arjun came over a little while later, and we all went out for our first of many days of shopping. We went to one of the local shopping malls. Ma kept asking if I would like to buy anything, which really caught me off guard. I was not sure if it was a faux pas to refuse; I asked Sid, and he told me only to buy things I liked. I turned down many clothing items, but I did find a kurta – a knee-length tunic – I liked in one store.
Then I had my first pijamis – the pants that go under kurtas – adventure. I tried on the pijamis that matched that kurta, and I decided they didn’t fit. I tried the next size up, which appeared to fit in the legs, but were absolutely huge in the waist. What the heck was going on? I decided I just didn’t like the style.
What I didn’t notice was that pijamis have exceedingly long legs… probably six or more inches beyond a person’s heel. The bottom section of the legs is quite tight – just wide enough to work over your heel and ankle. You leave that gathered cloth around your ankles – it’s supposed to look like bangles. (Or from my perspective, a scrunched-down sock.) I learned all of this as the week went on. But as an American (or maybe just me), I pull the legs of my pants all the way on first, then pull up the waist – I expect the end of the leg to fall somewhere around my ankle, with no fabric left over.
Pijamis are supposed to be pulled up your leg as far as they’ll go, and then you work the remaining length over your heel. Then you pull up the waist, and – lo and behold – there’s plenty of leg left to reach all the way up. But the first night it looked to me like the size medium was getting caught on my runner calf muscles. The size large was huge in the waist and hips. All of this adventure took place in the dressing room, so no one was able to advise me that I was simply a pijamis novice.
I did find some flat, sparkly Indian shoes for the wedding. I was stunned that they actually had my giant size, considering that I am significantly taller than any woman I saw during the entire trip. It was the biggest size they carried, so I am afraid my yet taller sister would have been out of luck.
I turned down several jewelry items. Sid’s mom wanted me to get an earring and necklace set, but one that I mildly liked cost $50 – I didn’t like it enough for someone to pay that much on it. Perhaps I have been living on non-profit salaries for too long. I had a sense that Sid’s mom was frustrated with me, but he said it was okay.
Indian shopping malls are a lot like American ones. The indoor malls in Gurgaon (as opposed to strip malls elsewhere) have all been built within the last few years. They tend to be more stories than American malls, rather than spreading across wide swaths of land. The parking garages are underneath the buildings, so the whole operation takes up less horizontal space.
Interesting Indian fact #2: Malls and stores have tight security. You have to walk through metal detectors to enter the building – the “gents” detector has guards, the “ladies” detector does not. Each store also has a security guard, who takes any bags you may be carrying from other stores.
Indian fact #3: Stores are WAY overstaffed. A tiny clothing store – no bigger than your average American bedroom – will have five or six staff on the floor. If you show interest in a product, you will have at least three salespeople assisting you. In the jewelry store with the $50 set, for instance, we had four salespeople monitoring my decision-making process.
Indian fact #4: You are allowed to TRY ON pierced earrings in India. Um… isn’t that considered unsanitary?
We finally gave up on shopping (hallelujah!!) and went to Haldiram’s for dinner. We parked in a funny alley next to a different mall, inhabited by stray dogs and street vendors, and we proceeded to traipse through a dirt ditch in a construction zone to get to the entrance. Mammi joked something about “Indian style,” and I noted to Sid that in America this area would have had a six foot wall around it and a sign apologizing for the mess. We had to climb out of the ditch on some rocks, and Sid’s mom said, “Hiking!” and smiled at me. Yes indeed. And a major liability, too.
Sid toured me around my dinner options, and I settled on a South Indian rava dosa. I went upstairs with Ma, and we had a nice little conversation before everyone else came up with the food. I got to have a lassi made with rose water and saffron, which was really, really delicious, and we had some pani puri as well. It was fun. When we arrived home Ma was in a little trouble for keeping Sid’s dad waiting on his dinner. Guess we were having too much fun.
We headed off to bed shortly after Mammi and Arjun left.
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11:07 am - India trip day 1
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Day 1 – November 19/20:
Sid and I departed Bakersfield at 5:00 a.m. We drove to LA, parked the car at an extended stay lot, and reached the airport way quite a bit too early. After checking in and going through security, I spotted some rare and glorious sets of chairs without armrests. We were able to lie down for an hour -- the more time spent horizontal before a long flight, the better.
Our flight to Newark was 5 1/2 hours. Neither of us were willing to pay the $5 per headset charge by Continental, but I had my MP3 player headphones. (I had ostensibly brought that along to listen to my Hindi lessons -- never happened.) I did a crossword and watched Lady in the Water; Sid slept.
We had a fairly short stop in Newark. I called Mom and Dad, and then we boarded our flight for New Delhi. I was one of 5 white passengers on the plane. Yes, I counted.
Things were looking pretty good for our flight. The first few hours went well. We had dinner and we watched The Ballad of Ricky Bobby -- headsets are free on international flights. Then we went to sleep, and that's when trouble began. I was having trouble falling asleep, and I remembered that we had forgotten to take out the trash. So we had to figure out how quickly we could call the family taking care of Mazal to get them to do that for us. We felt really bad about it.
When I finally did fall asleep (after I took my trusty Tylenol PM,) I somehow lost my left contact lens. No kidding. How it fell out of my eye while my eye was closed, I shall never know. The plane was extremely dry, but still. I discovered it when I got up to go to the bathroom. I woke Sid up to help me check around the seat, and we asked the flight attendant for a flashlight. We cruised up and down the aisle, scouring the floor. All to no avail. I am sure our co-passengers thought we were crazy. I did not have an extra lens because no liquids are allowed in carry-ons, so I had to wait until we got our checked baggage in Delhi. Not fun.
I have to admit that I began to wonder whether going to India was such a good idea. Was this a sign? I hadn't been fully on board for the trip -- I knew I should do it, but part of me was really hesitant. The last time I had seen Sid's parents, they had been civil to me but then fought with him for weeks about not marrying me. They had refused to follow through on the plan to meet my parents over Memorial Day weekend, and the last real exchange we'd had was during the prenuptial agreement rigamarole. (Which I will not discuss in detail here, but suffice it to say it was not fun.) And that was not a direct exchange... Sid had to be the messenger, despite me emailing his dad directly.
But I was being brave, and now I was facing my first setback before even getting off the plane. Auugh.
I will say that the other passengers were very kind about the whole thing, and complete strangers asked me what was wrong and offered their sympathy. The flight attendant kept calling me "girlfriend," which somehow really meant something right then.
We landed shortly after 9:00 p.m. on Monday, November 20.
Because you don't get your checked luggage until after you've gone through customs, I had to pass immigration with only one useful eye. That was interesting. But I'm sure no one looks good after a 15 hour flight, so a girl with an apparently lazy eye wouldn't throw anyone off. Then I got my bag... I was overjoyed. I grabbed the contact lens and raced to the bathroom, only to find -- to my horror -- a bathroom attendant. I only had a $20 US bill, so I wasn't going to be able to tip. Damn. I tried to ignore her assistance, but she's the only source of hand-drying accoutrements (toilet paper.) I tried to make her understand that I needed to stand at the sink for a couple extra minutes to put my lens in, and she just hovered. Oh well. I got my lens in and told her I had no money. She scowled at me, but I wasn't going to give her a $20 bill.
I told Sid about that when I got back to the baggage claim, and he was a little surprised. I never ran into an attendant anywhere else in India, either, so it must have been to catch Europeans (who are used to that sort of thing) at the airport.
After we got our bags, we headed to the greeting area. There was a huge crowd of people, but not Sid's parents. We looked all over -- we went outside to both parking areas.. nothing. And we almost couldn't get back into the airport after exiting, because they charge a "visitor fee" to people coming to pick up travelers. We didn't have any rupees, but Sid (and probably our cart full of luggage) convinced them to let us back in. We got some rupees and Sid started calling. We went back out to the parking lot and were about to make a second phone call when I spotted Sid's dad. Sid couldn't get away from the phone, because a person reads the call meter and takes your money -- you don't just put money in the phone. I stepped over to catch his dad, doing the requisite foot-touching greeting. I don't think he actually said hello, just, "Where's Siddhartha?!" Okay. I pointed him in the right direction, and I moved on to greet Sid's mom. Again not much of a response. Sigh.
We started walking for the car, and we met two cousins, Sanjana and Arjun, and an aunt (Mammi - Sid's mom's brother's wife) on the way. I missed the opportunity to touch Mammi's feet, which was a faux pas. Oops. Sid said I should do it when he does it, but I pointed out to him that he hadn't even noticed Mammi's presence yet when she was being introduced to me. We were supposed to have an agreement that he watch out for me on this stuff; I could see that we'd failed on that already in the first 10 minutes. Only 8 days of faux pas to go!
We walked to the car, and everyone seemed to be yelling and arguing about what to do next. I'm not sure, though, because it was all in Hindi. But it sounded unpleasant. I nearly got run over in the parking lot, but the drivers were all kind enough to honk.
Interesting Indian fact: You are supposed to use your car horn. A lot. At pedestrians, other cars, animals, when passing, or -- apparently -- just if you haven't used it in the last five minutes.
We rode with the two cousins, and everyone was pretty quiet. I expressed concern to Sid about the way his parents had greeted me. He assured me that it was normal. Hmmmm...
The traffic in New Delhi is incredible. If there are lines on the road (rarely), no one pays attention to them. You honk at other cars if you want to pass them. Oddly you still pass on the right, even though the driving is on the left side of the road. At least I think that was what's happening. Rickshaws and bicycles are right out in the middle of trucks and buses. I have decided that rickshaw driver is right up there with Alaskan crab fisherman for "most dangerous job in the world."
We arrived back Sid’s parents’ apartment complex in Gurgaon, and the cousins and aunt headed home. I remembered to touch Mammi’s feet when she was leaving, thanks to Sid remembering to do it first.
I learned where I would be sleeping, showering, etc., and Sid recommended we both go to bed. I said good night to everyone, took a shower, and went to sleep.
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10:50 am - marriage is "on"? was it "off"?
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And if you're wondering why the wedding being "on" is a big deal, there's a whole different series of journal entries that are not public. Suffice it to say that things did not go well during the LAST HOUR of our trip in India. That despite my cheery, advice-filled last post while there. Sid and I had a badly timed argument that escalated to disastrous levels. His parents were ready to cancel the whole thing.
We have been through an extremely rough last week and a half since getting home, but it looks like time may be healing the wounds. We'll see. I honestly thought I was going to die at certain points during the first few days.
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jevend's journal