The Cook

Becky was recently told by some Indians we know that her figure is amazing. They talked for a couple minutes about how very nice and slender and statuesque she is. (And you're very pretty, too, they told me.) I guess there's at least one person, though, who does not appreciate Becky's thin figure. This morning Becky went in for breakfast, and after she'd eaten her fill she attracted the attention of our little old cook. He came over and began telling her that she was far too thin and that she needed to eat a lot more. And then he grabbed two slices of bread, put them on her plate, and started spreading two huge spoonfuls of jam on each slice. Becky dutifully ate both of them, and then went home and slept for two hours because it made her feel so sick.

I really love this little cook. He's very old -- he used to be a cook for the British back before India became an independent nation -- and he is totally passionate about food. The first time he talked to me I couldn't make out his accent, and I thought he was scolding me because he was so intense and was saying things rather disjointedly, but after he left the room someone told me that he was listing off the foods he knew how to cook. He stepped back into the room from the kitchen at least four or five more times to add foods he'd forgotten to the list, exactly as if he'd thought of new points in an argument.

He's slight, and his features and frame are somewhat sunken with age. He usually wears all white, and he carries an umbrella when he walks to and from work. He passes Krishnayya's house on the way home, and Krishnayya told me that he often stops by to quit on his way home because of something or other. Fortunately Krishnayya is always able to pacify him.

I'm going to miss him.

Family Poems, Part 2

Sorry I had to run in the middle of the family. Nothing personal, Cindy. ;) Here are the rest.

Cindy Lou, the next one born,
Plays the piano, flute, and horn.
She's famous for her brains and wit;
She has a fan club -- all legit.
She bruises very easily --
A modern Princess and the Pea.
She loves good books and Bollywood.
If you don't read her blog, you should.

Our brother Russell's next in line.
He's a pro at cosine, sine.
As listener he's really great;
I'll talk and talk, he'll sit and wait.
He loves football, BYU,
Just like all our brothers do.
He and Allen look a pair,
(The difference is in parted hair.)

Russ and Jen are a happy pair.
Jen is helpful, good, and fair.
Soccer is Jen's favorite sport,
But she'll play games of any sort.
I really like to talk to Jen,
Though I stop by just now and then.
But now it's hard to stop and play;
I'm sad they moved so far away.

Andrew's just a few months old,
Of him we know what we've been told.
We're told he's smart and curious,
Which we'd expect -- his father's Russ.
He's getting big and nice and long,
We're glad to hear he's going strong.
We can't wait to meet this baby boy.
Perhaps he'll get an Indian toy.

Pop is good and wise and kind,
A better dad we could not find.
If we need help or want to play,
Dad's there for us on any day.
He's great at chess and telling stories.
You should see his morning glories.
I always love his weekly letter,
But seeing him is even better.

Mom takes care of our whole clan,
She helps us any way she can.
Mom can do most anything,
She can sew, and paint, and sing,
She cooks every meal from scratch.
If clothes are torn she'll make a patch.
A chat with her makes me feel good,
If I could be like her I would.

Family Poems, Part 1

Since we have a little more time than things to do right now, Becky and I decided to write a poem for each of our family members. As you can tell, these are posh and polished works of art and culture. Enjoy!

We think Emmy's pretty swell,
The oldest and the family belle.
But more than just a pretty face,
She has brains, and guts, and grace.
She plays the piano like a pro.
She can quilt, and cook, and sew.
Emily is an awesome sister
And right now I rather miss her.

Travis is our sister's man,
Of that arrangement I'm a fan.
A handy guy and lots of fun,
He'd win the heart of anyone.
He makes good food and funny jokes;
He restrains himself and rarely pokes.
He says he'll trash my wedding car,
We'll see, then -- if I get that far.

Em and Travis have a kid;
We're really, really glad they did.
Alyssa now is nearly two,
Neat and trim from hat to shoe.
She loves babies, dogs, and treats.
She'll run to any one she meets.
We miss her darling laugh and smile.
We hope we'll see her in a while.

Travis has a dog named Boo.
He scares Mom like You Know Who.
His favorite games are fetch and tug,
He'll play them on the lawn or rug.
He hates the mailman through and through,
As many dogs are wont to do.
Jaide calls him the licking dog.
His picture's up on Meg's fun blog.

A man of thought and action too,
Allen wears the Cougar Blue.
He knows his facts and history,
In balance game he wins, not me.
Allen loves the great blue sky,
And birds and planes and things that fly.
He's really great at strategy;
I wish I were as smart as he.

Hannah is our brother's wife;
Where she is there'll be no strife.
He caramels truly are divine;
If I eat one I'll soon eat nine.
I like her laugh and conversation,
Her style of work and relaxation.
You'll often find her in the pool,
So you can tell she's pretty cool.

Bob comes next. He's big and tall.
He likes to tease and play football.
He often leads our family things --
Discussing gifts and gatherings.
He'll sit up late and strategize
With Dad and all the other guys.
Computers are our brother's friend,
If yours is sick he'll help it mend.

Bob's wife, Meg, is pretty sweet;
I love it every time we meet.
She keeps us posted with blog notes
On family news and funny quotes.
She's really great at volleyball --
I guess because she is so tall.
A caring friend and awesome mother,
This doesn't rhyme, but we all love her.

Jaide was born to Meg and Bob.
At six she's now a young heartthrob.
She plays fun games like pirate chase,
And where she plays she wins first place.
She's full of fun and energy,
She certainly has more than me.
She loves her class and friends at school.
We love our little family jewel.

Their other kid is Kiree-girl.
Her hair is full of pretty curl.
She plays along with sister Jaide,
Be it cards or pirate raid.
She liked our song made with her name;
She loved the Kiree-catching game.
She's nearly three now -- strong and tall.
She'll soon be great for volleyball.

The other poems are mostly done, but I've got to go now.

Compliments

We get interesting compliments here in India. People complement on my face, my hair, my earrings, my clothes, my figure, my bangles, and more. I've been told a couple times I look like a Telugu actress or like Aishwarya Rai or Sonali Bendre. I don't see that at all, but I guess I probably look more like them than Becky looks like ice cream: "So cool and sweet! Just like ice cream!" Becky also often gets told she looks simple, which she takes as a complement.

Birthday

Becky's birthday was good, I think. We had a small party (which mostly involved eating desserts), watched a Telugu movie (which everyone but us two abandoned before the intermission), and hung out together. Probably the biggest surprise was this:


Becky had been planning to steal a Mahesh poster before we went home, so she was very happy that Megan and Kelly did it for her. I don't think she was quite sure what to make of making it a sort of shrine to him, though.



His heart has "Rebecca" written on it.


They also arranged this cute little rosette for her, using a newspaper picture of her and a rosette we were given a few weeks ago and putting a sparkly crown on the picture.


Becky also had Karuna and Rama put some henna on her hands in honor of the day.

Phone

Doesn't Becky look cute when she's on the phone with Mom?

A Visit

Tuesday morning after class I went out to put some more minutes on our phone and to have my shoe stitched. I grabbed the shoe and kept a note card with the phone number in my purse, (I still don't have it memorized). I went to the shop down the street and took care of the phone and then went to the cobbler. The cobbler doesn't have a shop; he spreads out his tools and sits on the ground in the shade. He'd already stitched my shoes twice, so I knew to give him my shoe and wait for him to fix it.

As he was stitching my shoe another woman came and stood by the cobbler. She seemed very nice. She was probably around 30, pretty, well groomed, and well dressed. She wanted to take my picture, (which is pretty standard), and she showed me some of them she took. She wanted to talk to me, too, but I speak no Telugu worth mentioning, and she apparently spoke no English worth mentioning.

After the cobbler had finished with my shoe I started walking home, but as I turned onto the street she called out to me and pointed straight, as if I were going the wrong way. After some confusion and a lot of us repeating ourselves without either of us learning any more Telugu or English than we already knew, I realized that she wanted me to go somewhere with her. I figured she must live in our colony and want to take me to her home to give me a glass of water or something, and since she seemed very earnest about me coming and since I didn't have anything particular I was doing, I decided to humor her. She kept trying to communicate with me as we walked through the colony and then out across the road and down the street, seeming to be continually shocked and dismayed at my ignorance of Telugu. I did manage to understand that she wanted to know my telephone number, so I took the note card out of my purse to show her for her to copy or something. She immediately took it and put it in her saree, which I guess means I'll have to ask Jain our number again. We turned down a narrow lane into another colony.

This was her colony, and she took me to show me how close the beach is and also to show me to some of her friends there. They pointed out all the small children to me and seemed to expect me to pick them up or pinch their cheeks or something, but I mostly just waved. I didn't want to scare them to death, and I'm also never quite sure that that's what they were trying to get me to do. We ran into one guy who spoke pretty good English, and he translated one or two questions people wanted to ask me. After a few minutes, she motioned for me to follow her back.

A different guy fell into step with us as she took me back and told me that my friend, whose name I think is Ishri, was telling me that I should come and walk on the beach in the evenings. I think this guy also wanted my number, but Ishri was making motions to me to tell me that I was not to give it to him. I couldn't have, anyway, because it was in her saree. She dropped me home, and I went inside. The whole thing probably took less than twenty minutes.

India leaves me a little shell-shocked sometimes.

A Day at the Office

Yesterday my translator Lakshmi took me out to get some interviews at a place I think was an office. Several kind of crazy things happened during this trip, but I'll just tell you about the ladies I met. I interviewed two of them, but they kept spicing up our interview by asking me their own questions. I didn't mind, and it was kind of interesting to hear what questions they asked. What does my father do? How many siblings do I have? Are they married? Did they have love marriages? None of them were arranged? What do my brothers do? Does the whole family work? What kind of relationships do I have with my family members? Am I married? Would I marry a Telugu boy? Were my earrings platinum or steel? Did I buy my outfit here in Vizag? Do I cook at home? What sorts of things do I cook? Could I show them how to make one of the sweets I make? Am I Christian or Hindu? Do I like henna?

Actually, I bought henna about a month ago but hadn't worn it yet. I had put it in my purse that morning in case I finished with my interview early and Karuna was at the program house when I got back so she could put it on for me. I pulled it out to show them, and one of them, Madhuri, decorated my hands. She said she would do it for my wedding, too.


Lakshmi was in a different room for most of that time talking to a friend, so the ladies discussed me in Telugu with each other and all the people who wandered through. They kept saying the English word "homely," which I assume they were saying I was. (That's a good thing in Indian English; it means innocent and home-like, not ugly.) I felt kind of like I was a little stray puppy that got adopted. Lakshmi told me as we were leaving that they were saying that they liked me so much.

They also wanted to know if I ever wore a saree, and Lakshmi told them I did and promised to bring me back on Saturday wearing one. They were very happy about that. They wanted to see me "as an Indian."

Saree

Sunday I wore my saree to church. I'd put it on kind of in a hurry because we had very little time to eat lunch before we had to go. I thought I did a pretty good job of it, especially for doing it so quickly. Durga poked her head in while we were gulping down our food and saw me in it. "Saree!" she said. I would have said "No problem," but fortunately my mouth was full, and by the time I swallowed I'd realized that that would have been a non sequitur.

Before Relief Society started Sister Dashri asked me who had helped me with my saree. "I did it myself," I proudly told her.

"You tried," she said consolingly. She and several other ladies told me that they'd help me with it after the meeting. I hope some of them were able to concentrate on the lesson in the meantime.

After the meeting was over they converged on me, pinned and unpinned, pulled, folded, and draped, and finally I was respectable looking.

As we were going home afterward, several of our neighbor ladies saw us and complimented the saree. Also when we went out later that evening, all the ladies smiled happily at me in my saree. I think that's my favorite thing about wearing one, how happy it seems to make all the Indian women. They seem to take it as a personal compliment. And I suppose it is.

On a side note, for those of you who have been eagerly waiting to know whether or not wearing a saree is a disadvantage when playing Nertz, (which I'm sure is most of you), I'm pleased announce that a saree does not interfere whatsoever with playing Nertz. I wish I could say the same about going up stairs, getting in and out of rickshaws, and walking, but I suppose you can't have everything in life.

Fashion Show

Yesterday we went to a youth festival at GITAM University. The stated purpose of the festival was a fashion show to pick Mr. and Miss GITAM. Yup, not just Miss, Mr. and Miss. I think the real point, though, was to have some cool dance performances.


This guy (in the next picture) was apparently some sort of abstract combination of bride and bridegroom. He was a very good dancer, although this particular dance was a bit weird. Indian college functions give me the impression that every Indian can dance. Really well. Actually, at least two of our translators are good dancers, too, come to think of it.


This was a modern/classical fusion dance that I thought was really good.




They had to sandwich the fashion show in between the dancing, because once the dancing parts were over people started to go away. Well, maybe it was to give the contestants time to change, too. The part in the middle of the dancing was the "retro" style fashion.



This is a video of one of the dances.



The part after the dancing was over was the "modern" fashion.



After all the contestants had strutted their stuff the last time, they all were lined up on the stage and asked deep questions like "What is your favorite holiday place?"


Then there was a short wait, during which half of the audience left, and Mr. and Miss GITAM were announced.


As we left I noticed that there were more rangoli here again. I like the peacock one especially.

Bheemili

Monday we went on a trip to Bheemili. The first thing that we went to see was the 2000-year-old ruins of a Buddhist monastery.


I thought the ruins were kind of boring until we went behind the ruined buildings over the rise in the hill. Now I know what those Buddhist monks were doing when they were up here pretending to reach nirvana.


Swimming!


Yup, three ancient Buddhist swimming pools were hidden behind the normal boring ruins.


Why Buddhist monks would spend their free time carving more swimming pools out of the giant rock behind their cells, I don't know.


Somebody obviously liked to swim in private, so he made his own.


After we'd finished with the monastery, we went to see a Dutch cemetery. The gate was unexpectedly locked, so we sat around for a while waiting for the key. Becky and I were sitting on a bench overlooking the beach when a cow wandered by and took a liking to me. He looked at me, decided I was okay, and began to rub his head against me over and over. Um, thanks, Cow. Incidentally, I'd heard vaguely about cows wandering around the streets in India before I came, and I seem to have always heard that in connection with Indians worshiping cows; i.e. they don't kill them so they just wander around freely. That's not exactly the way it goes. All of the cows and buffaloes are owned by someone, they're just let out to pasture in the city. They go home when they need to be milked. K.P. told me that a cow can earn a poor family enough to survive on. Anyway, back to the cow with me, that was about the time Krishnayya decided to give up and just look over the fence at the cemetery, so we did.


We actually went in later that day and got to see it. Many of the graves are nearly three hundred years old, and some are within the past few years. One of them is open and empty.

After that we went to a Hindu temple. At least we all went up the hundreds of stairs to get there, but I don't think many of us actually went in. We all went past it on the stairs that go up beyond the temple and end on a look out point. There was a pretty good view up there.


There was also a crazy ancient staircase not attached to anything at the bottom and not leading to anything at the top.


Some of us climbed it.


Not me, though. I stuck with the safe stairs. Aren't you proud of me, Mom?

Our New House

We moved. Our old apartment was on the third floor of a building, up a narrow staircase. I mentioned that Bacchi, Sudha's husband, is the warden of GITAM, didn't I? That is a residential job, and I guess it has a year-long term. The apartment where we had been living is their house, which they're just not in right now because of that job. For some reason Dr. Nuckolls didn't like students to stay there, so when he saw the prettiest house on the street for rent a few weeks ago, he immediately called, rented it, and decided to move all of us who had been living in Sudha and Bacchi's place into the green house.


Apparently it is owned by one of the supreme court justices of India. It's pretty nice. This is the ground between the porch and the door.


I like the front door.


We call this the Aslan knocker.


This is our bay window in the living room. And Becky.


This is the living room looking down from the indoor balcony. That sheet is functioning as a curtain for the bay window.


This is the staircase up to the balcony and the rooms upstairs. The staircase is probably my favorite thing in the house. I just like it.


This is the chandelier.


This is the gigantic kitchen that we don't use at all. There's also a dining room we don't use.


This is my room.


This is another view of my room. Yup, I have a window that looks down onto the living room. My doorway doesn't have a door, either.


But I actually have two rooms, kind of. I'm in the one I'm in because I like the fan better. It's kind of an antechamber to the other room, which has my bathroom in it.


We each have our own bathrooms. Except, the water doesn't often seem to work in Becky's and mine, so we use the bathroom in the spare bedroom more often than not, especially for showering. If Megan decides to move in there she might just have to deal with that.

I was kind of ambivalent about moving here, because I don't like the hassle of moving and because we had to leave the TV in the other apartment. I was rather annoyed, too, when the second night we were there I was laying sleepless on my bed and something fluttered across my hand. Or rather, crawled. I got up and turned on the light to see a two-inch cockroach right next to my bed. Yuck! I'm a wimp, so I don't kill cockroaches; I jump on furniture and scream until someone else kills them for me. Usually Becky. Unfortunately, it was the middle of the night, so my choices were stand and keep an eye on it all night (painful), kill it myself (no way!), or wake up Becky. She wasn't super excited about being roused at 3:30 AM to kill a huge cockroach, but she did it. She's pretty awesome like that. (This experience is the other reason why my bed is in the room it's in. This happened in the inside room.) Whatever, though. We hadn't really had cockroaches in the other apartment, but a day or two after that I saw one there, too, so I guess it wouldn't be much better in that regard. And now that I've had time to settle in, I like this house. It's comfortable, and it feels more like home somehow.

Blessed

The day before yesterday I was sitting with Sudha and she was telling me about Brahmanandam, the top comedian in Telugu cinema. He was a Telugu teacher before he entered films, a good one. Sudha knows one of his former students. He now earns 2 lakhs per day, which is equivalent to about $4,000. I told Sudha, "I'd like to get $4,000 a day someday," mostly to show that I appreciated that that was a lot of money.

"You will. You definitely will; I've blessed you for it," Sudha said.

What do you say to that? Thank you very much, I guess.

Glamour and Romance

We movie stars get the glory, I guess we have to take the little heartaches that go with it. Yesterday another TV crew was waiting at the program house to pounce on us and make us be on TV again when we came to get dinner. None of us was really in the mood, and few of us were looking our best, but we submitted. After a bit of posing and reciting, though, as we got hungrier and hungrier, some of us started making more and more silly faces at the camera. I'm not sure how much of their footage ended up being usable. Oh, well.

Some Happenings

Yesterday some TV people showed up to our Telugu class and spent an hour getting footage of our class. Which was a bit tiresome, but convenient because it meant a half day off. And today we went to our teacher's home and watched ourselves on TV instead of having class. This is me. We were covered for about five minutes.



Yesterday we also attended an Indian wedding. We were invited because Adam briefly met the groom's father a couple weeks ago, and I guess they wanted some international guests. Lots of people came, but I think most of them came for the food. The food was the largest buffet I have ever seen, and took up an entire large room and spilled out into the outdoors and the main marriage hall. There were menus you could pick up with your plate to help guide you to what you wanted to eat. It was all pretty awesome, especially the ice cream counter. The actual marriage was not very visible, even though it was on the stage, because the close family members crowded around and mostly hid the couple from view.

We all bought saris for the occasion.

The King's Picture

Pop was wondering about whether the portrait of the king's grandfather was more flattering than he deserved. I don't think so. This is his father, the current king's great grandfather, holding the sword given to him by the Prince of Wales.



He looks a little squat in this picture, perhaps because of the angle I snapped it. His great grandson, at least, is a very tall man.

Rakhi Day

Today is Rakhi Day, the day that celebrates the bond between brother and sister. Sisters tie rakhis, which are kind of bracelet-type things, onto the wrists of their brothers. If they're not in the same city they send these in the mail. These symbolize the love sisters have for their brothers. In return, brothers sometimes give their sisters gifts, which symbolizes, as far as I can make out, that they're in their sisters' corners. I don't think that nearly as many gifts are given as rakhis. The holiday is not always on August 24th, but it is always in August. A priest determines the actual day, according to Lakshmi. The holiday is a North Indian custom, but it is becoming popular in the South, especially among the younger generation. They look like this:


They sell rakhis everywhere, so I picked up three of them at a shop near our house. (They're not as fancy as the ones in this picture.) I would have gotten four, but Sudha says it is a holiday only for brothers, not brothers-in-law. Sorry, Travis. No rakhi for you next August.