Leaving makes you popular

Not that we weren't popular before, mind ;)

But we're down to 4 full days left in Bangalore, and suddenly our social (read: meal) time is filling up fast! We want to be able to see everyone and say thank you, and good bye. And yes, just typing that made me feel a bit sad. We've got friends here I'll miss a great deal. Hell, I feel sad thinking of saying good bye to the people who work at Nesara and Prakruthi! Especially Zion and Liel's admirers. The granny who always comes over to pat Liel's back and tuck her hair behind her ears, the auntie who beams when we thank her for clearing the table and pinches Zion's cheeks, the usually surly girl who works at the register who smiles when the kids come up to order more food, the guys behind the counter who crack up watching Zion methodically consume vast quantities of food, and the coffee guy who often pours the kids a little treat when we go to buy tea or coffee. We can barely even communicate to them, and yet they've taken us under their collective wing, and showered us with kindness. We will miss them, too.

And, despite the summer heat (and the traffic, and the waste disposal woes...) I'll miss Bangalore itself. I could be wrong, but I have this feeling that when we go back to NY we'll adjust really quickly, and our life here in Bangalore will seem like something out of a dream. 

Still surprising me

We went to Nesara for dinner tonight. We ordered dosa (less than last time!) and some Chinese food, and while we were waiting Robert said, "I can't believe that we've been to these restaurants (Nesara and Prakruthi) more than we've been to any others, and pretty soon we're going to leave and probably never come back again."

I agreed. And I leaned back in my chair and looked around at the room that had seemed so foreign at first, and was now so familiar. When we arrived in Bangalore I took pictures of the menu (remember that?) because there were so many foods on it that were new to me and I needed to go home and look them up to figure out what they were. Now I know that menu by heart.

And then our food arrived and we tucked in. And Nesara, this place I know so well, surprised me. Because tonight the chutney that came with our dosa wasn't particularly coconuty but it was particularly minty! It was incredibly delicious...so delicious that we ended up ordering another dosa, mostly to serve as a vehicle for the chunety.

This is one of the true joys of India. Even after months here-- after months of eating at the same restaurant for heaven's sake-- it still surprises and amazes me.

(The tea I had after dinner was surprising too...surprisingly over-steeped. Oh well. They can't all be the kind surprise that makes your eyes roll back in your head with delight.)

Lasts

We have just over a week left here in Bangalore, so now almost everything is a last. I probably won't catalogue all of them, but since the lasts are just starting they're seeming kinda new and fresh so I'll try my hand at it for a while.

Today I got my last grocery delivery from BigBasket. Now that I've used this company for months I can give my final, updated verdict: they are excellent. If you live in India (or are visiting India and need groceries delivered), and are in a city where they operate, give them a shot. The few times I've been disappointed with the quality of something I bought from them they've fixed it right up. Good stuff.

Now, despite the fact that I ought to have a fully stocked kitchen, my dinner options continue to suck. Mostly it's that we're all pretty tired of the 3-4 things I can reliably get ingredients for and cook in the rice cooker. It's a bit after 5pm right now, and I'm staring down the barrel of dinner prep...and thinking I'll be sauteeing some veggies and then adding a "ready to eat" curry and some rice. Which will excite no one, but on the upside, it won't require a 2 mile round trip walk + the application of bug spray. I'm mostly coming down on the side of pre-packaged curry being the better option, but meh. Not thrilled. Maybe I'll smash a coconut to go with it. Or gorge myself on Mysore Pak afterwards. Mmmm. Mysore Pak.

Oh, here's another bit of news from my day! The coffee guy asked me what my necklace was. I was surprised he was asking (it's fairly obvious), but I said, "Ganesha!" and he laughed with delight. Tiju thinks that he didn't expect me to know Ganesha and was pleased (and surprised) that I did. 

Golden Afternoon

This morning went to Malleswaram (yes, again...are you seeing theme here?) and finished up our "leaving India" shopping. I suppose that's a bit bittersweet, but since I was having stress dreams about not having done everything I needed to do, I'm feeling pretty pleased. Really pleased, in fact.

One of the last bits of shopping was a little tricky. I wanted to buy fabric for a suit set for my grandmother, which sounds not tricky on the surface. But my gram prefers light colors, which aren't overly represented in the Indian palette, and we're leaving in 8 days, which isn't a lot of time to get the set made. But I triumphed! With great triumph!

First, I found cloth for the kurta that I think is in the right color family, and will look smashing on her. Then I found fabric for the salwars that matched very well (it even got the fabric store worker's approval!). Finally, I took them to the tailor, explained they were for my gram, that she wasn't the same size as me, and told her what sizing and styling I wanted. And she said she could have them done in time for me! Man, I love this tailor. She's rockin'.

Then we ran into Tiju, and had a lovely lunch with him. Once home the kids did math work, reading, and Zion learned about Hanuman (his favorite Hindu g-d) and no one cried or even complained about schoolwork. Admittedly Liel ended up shrieking at Robert over the authentication for the proxy server (I will not miss the proxy server at all!), but still. It was mostly win.

Now it's late afternoon. We have the curtains in our apartment drawn against the hot south Indian summer sun. Zion is playing chess against the computer while Liel watches, narrates, and sometimes makes suggestions. I have dinner cooking in ye olde rice cooker, and we're listening to Huey Lewis and the News. I feel like this is one of those perfect, golden moments where everything is entering my memory all crystallized and sharp and beautiful.

(A word about Huey Lewis and the News. I've loved them since way back in the day...the day being the early/mid 80s. My parents owned all their records, and my brother and I loved listening to them and "dancing". That's in quotes because it mostly involved jumping off the furniture and running around like crazy people. Anyway, as the 80s, and then the 90s wore on there was very little Huey in my life, aside from the nights I'd come home to find my parents dancing to him in the living room, usually to "Buzz Buzz Buzz". Once, when we were travelling in Costa Rica, it came out that my mom thought the lyrics to this song included the line, "the sound of your little boy Stanley", which had the rest of us literally crying with laughter.

Then, when I was doing my PhD, Robert and I spent a fair bit of time wine tasting in Santa Ynez, and made some great friends at our favorite winery. I even worked in the tasting room for a short while. And that winery (Buttonwood) had all vinyl Sundays, instituted by our friend Graham. And all of the all vinyl Sundays included a lot of Huey Lewis. It was really idyllic-- picture the tasting room of a winery in the beautiful Santa Ynez valley. Sun streams through the windows, there's a lovely breeze and a view of vines, orchards, and mountains. There are happy people tasting wine, happy people pouring wine, and Huey Lewis and the News blasting at a perfect volume. It was pure delight, believe me. As if all that weren't enough, my friend Pete and I have spent many a happy evening drinking wine and watching Huey Lewis videos. All of which is to say, I associate Huey Lewis with some of the best things in my life: my childhood, my brother, my parents, Robert, wine tasting, my family and good friends. And now I can add India to that list!)

Adventures with auto rickshaws

Auto rickshaws are one of the primary form of motorized transportation around here. If you google "auto rickshaw bangalore", or ask someone in Bangalore about the autos, you'll get fairly pessimistic responses. "The drive won't want to use the meter", I was repeatedly told, "but you must insist!" and "Don't get in the auto if he won't use the meter!"

But, at the risk of jinxing myself, every auto driver I've used has automatically turned on the meter. I figured we'd just been lucky, which may be the case, or perhaps attempts to skirt meter use are more common in other parts of the city. I have no idea.

Today we went to Malleswaram to do some shopping after lunch. We had to walk a bit before we found an empty auto, but the first one we saw agreed to take us where we wanted to go, and as usual, switched on the meter. The shopping itself was excellent, and I just adore Malleswaram more and more each time I go there. Parts of it kind of remind me of Barcelona, of all the damn things. It's such an alive neighborhood, full of families out shopping, fruit vendors, bakeries (the scent of these reminds me powerfully of Mexico when I pass them) and cloth, cloth everywhere. Many streets have huge shade trees arching across them, and there are women sitting on the sidewalks selling strings of devotional jasmine. Have I mentioned that I love Malleswaram??

Anyway, after we did our shopping we got an auto back to the institute. But for the first time ever the driver didn't turn the meter on. We asked him to, and he did, but told us it would 20 extra. We said no, and he said he'd take us for Rs 100. The normal cost of this ride is Rs 50, so again we said no, and asked him to let us out. "80!", he said. "No, 50. We do this all the time, it costs 50", Robert replied as we piled out of the rick. "80!" said the driver again.

Luckily another drive had just deposited a family where we climbed out, and we asked if he'd go to the Tata Institute. He said he would, though he wanted more to take us through the campus. We were happy to have him drop us off at the New BEL road gate, so we agreed on 50 and set off.

About halfway there a tiny, black cat streaked across the road in front of us. The driver was immediately concerned, and looked back anxiously. Then he pulled over and stared at the place where he'd seen the cat. Finally he pulled all the way off the road, cut the engine, and jumped out. He walked back to the little median with plants in it and peered around for the cat. He asked some onlookers about it, and looked around some more. Eventually he came back, smiled at us and said, "Cat! On road." and spoke to a nearby auto driver, presumably about the cat. I found his concern for the animal very sweet...I can't think that too many cab drivers in the US would be that concerned for an animal they didn't actually hit.

And then we headed off again, and were safely deposited at our front gate. We still have a few more shopping errands, but our time here is rapidly running out.

So with that in mind, I think we'll head to Prakruthi for dosa tonight!

My grandmother's sari, with a blouse

Today I picked up the pink blouse the tailor made to match my 50+ year old sari that belonged to my grandmother. I think the color is OK, or maybe even nice, with the sari, but I'd like opinions, please! I will say that the pink of the blouse matches the pink of the um, warp (or weft?) of the sari pretty much perfectly.

As an added bonus you can see my "still have a lot to learn" sari draping!

Here is my sari in what I believe is a pretty standard sari drape, worn by women across India.

I think this is called the nivi drape actually. Here's another of same, with the shoulder bit sort of pleated/bunched. If I did this properly it'd be pleated, and not bunched at all. It would also use a pin, and I have no pins whatsoever at the moment.

Here's a closeup of the really beautiful pallau.

I've noticed that a lot of women here in Karnataka wear their saris with an extra wrap around the body and tucked at the waist. I have no idea what this drape is called, or if it's distinct to this region or not, but I'm really fond of it. It brings part of the pallau to the front, and makes the sari feel extra secure.

So, that's my heirloom sari! Please tell me what you think of the blouse-- does it match well? If not, what would you suggest for a better match? I asked my friend Bitasta, who took my blouse fabric shopping if she thought that the color I'd picked out was an OK match or too bright and she said, rather enigmatically, "Are you going to wear the sari in India?" I said something like, "Um, I don't know. Maybe?" and that was the end of our conversation. I'm not sure if she meant that the color was a terrible match and any Indian would know it, so if I was only going to wear it in the US it was OK, or if she meant that the color was too bright for American tastes, but fine for the Indian palate, or??? So any thoughts are greatly appreciated! I totally adore this sari. 

Cloth, unformed

Today we did a bit more shopping. We went back to the stainless steel shop, because it turns out that once just wasn't enough. And in fact I wish I'd more already, so if I get the chance I'll be back for a "third time's the charm" trip! The people in the shop are super nice too, asking the kids what grade they're in, where we're from, if we like living in Bangalore, if we like Indian food, etc.

Since a couple of the things we bought are for us, and not gifts, I can tell you about them. We bought thali platters, like these:

Just a wide, shallow platter. Normally around here these come with a bunch of rice, some papad, and various curries, rasams and sambars in small dishes. I figured we could use them that way, and also use them when we have "movie night", aka when we eat in front of the TV. So much less spilling when you're eating off a thali!

We also bought some South Indian coffee tumblers + dishes (not sure what those dishes are called!).

These are great for hot drinks, especially for the kids, who can pour a bit of their drink into the dish so that it cools very quickly. I suppose, while I'm on the subject, I should mention that both children have developed a taste for coffee since we've been living here. They only get a sip/spoonful but they sure do enjoy it!

Then we went to a cloth center. Oh. My. I could've spent hours there! So much beautiful cloth on bolts,  each richly colored and full of potential. I need to learn to sew much, much better. And then I need to come back to India! Or, alternately, I could buy a shit-ton of cloth now, bring it home, and use in the hopefully inevitable someday when I can actually sew properly.

Luckily for Robert and Zion, there were chairs for waiting.

Seriously, look at this place! and that's only about 1/6 of one floor.

Here I am, grinning like a damn fool. Just thinking about this place makes me beam!

I bought some (cough) cloth, and delivered it to the tailor shop on campus, to be turned into kurtas, salwars, and churidars. The madam said she'd have them done for me on the 26th, so stay tuned! I'm actually going back to her tomorrow with a couple of kurtas that I already own to try to discuss fit. I want totally sleeveless kurtas, and I'd like the arm holes slightly deeper than standard Indian fit. I also need to explain how long I want them! This all seems a bit daunting for our combined language skills, so I might bring Tiju along to help me out. I mentioned this to him today and he said that it was fun for him, because he never goes to tailoring shops otherwise. Have I mentioned how crazy busy Tiju is?? And yet he so kindly and cheerfully agrees to come along and help with my little troubles. We are so lucky to have him as a friend!

We only found this out when we got back home, but while we were in Malleswaram today a bomb went off there. Thankfully no one was killed, but 16 people were injured. This is by far the closest I've ever been to such a violent act, and it is rather sobering. Amazing how much of our lives are shaped by luck, and grace.