Our time in Goa reminded me of another trip--a trekking weekend that Darren encouraged me to go on--that culminated in a swim party with 25 guys clad in their briefs: exclusively.
Thanks Darren.
Theres quite the double standard in Indian swimwear. Men wear next to nothing and women wear full salwar kameez, (lower left, below) or even a sari. This is supposedly considered modest, however it also dangerous to be swathed in 6 yards of waterlogged fabric. I think making men swim blindfolded would be a net gain in safety.
Aside from taking a dip, visitors could pay their respects at this Hindu temple.You had to wade/swim to get to it. Please note that all devotees seem to have shorts.
Last weekend my girlfriends and I got to Goa as a sort of "last hurrah" since 3 out of the 4 of us will leave India in the next month. It was nice to escape our hectic preparations and enjoy a weekend away.
14 hours in an overnight sleeper bus (this guy was in the bunk across the aisle), and you wake up to...
BLISS! It's hard to believe I'm still in India, because everything is so...chill.
Like you can bare your shoulders here! (I'm told shoulders are considered quite provocative.) Actually, it's a beach culture, so bathing suits were de rigueur. One woman (European, no doubt) decided to tan, swim and drink Coca Cola from a glass bottle--topless. Her husband, a pot-bellied shag carpet with eyes, donned a psychedelic speedo. Kristen proclaimed them her favourite couple on the beach. Here here! (No pictures for obvious reasons.)
We found the precious "OM Made Cafe" full of antique furniture, vintage prints and Indo-French food. We barely moved from the spot for two days. I've really missed cafe culture!
This was us, for most of the weekend.
While watching this sunset my only friend who stays in Goa, the lovely and talented Monika, wandered into Shore Bar and snuck up behind me. The rendezvous was a complete coincidence, and made me feel quite popular. I later discovered it was the end of the season and most places were closed...
Angela visited Korea for her best friend's wedding in April, and got an offer she couldn't refuse: In June she'll move to Seoul to work in a prestigious law firm. We're so proud of our world traveller!
Though it doesn't feel like India, there are still little reminders. Like when a gentlemanly goat crosses the street and decides to walk you home.
In one months time, Kristen (left) will be holding down the fort, as our other expat colleagues consist of five tall, dark, and handsome guys. (Poor Kristen! ;-)
"For what great nation is there that has a god so near to it as the Lord our God is to us, whenever we call upon him?...Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children's children." Deuteronomy 4:7,9
Today' post actually came out as a confidential email entitled "India in Review - God out of the machine". If you would like to receive today' post, please email/Facebook me and I'll pass it on to you.
I leave you with a (rather unflattering) picture of me holding one of my greatest accomplishments from this year: pretzel dogs made from scratch! Does the dress look familiar?
I often see this lady applying the chalk powder to this driveway on my walk to work. Rangoli is a traditional decorative folk art of India, consisting of a colourful pattern made near the entrance to a house after it has been cleaned to welcome guests. The term Rangoli is derived from words: rang (colour) and aavalli (row ) so rangoli is row of colours.
I'm pretty skilled with sidewalk chalk, so my roommate Angela and I bought colours and tried to replicate these designs on the privacy of our rooftop. Major fail. No pictures survived of the project and our hands were dyed an incriminating blue (like we had severe frostbite) for a day after the fact.
"Hang ten" Rangoli
Our driveway rarely gets this special treatment. You can tell that it's a special occassion by the greenery, pooja offering of a smashed watermelon and large scale rangoli design outside our gate. (Just to be clear, our whole apartment building was not really clean!)
The biggest work I've seen was celebrating Diwali, the Festival of Lights.
Bangalore's nickname is the "Garden City" but rapid urbanization and construction have caused the city to lose some of its former glory over the last 10 years. Perhaps, instead of "garden" city it could be content as the "farmer's" city. As I've never seen so much livestock content to mingle with 5.5 million city dwellers (Except in Jonah' description of Nineveh. ) I might see any number of the following on my walk to or from work.
I love that one chicken's head is painted yellow, the other hot pink!
I refrained from sharing a picture of a cow eating garbage (as they're apt to ) out of repect. However, now you know the real reason Hindus dont eat beef!
These street dogs love eating trash so much they've made the bin their home.
Pet deer owned by a tailor near our office.
This type of cow is often used for manual labour.
now GoogleMaps, does this look like a street to you? More proof Bangalore is really a farm masquerading as a city. I had to get out of the auto and walk the rest of the way.
Tractors are used for everything here. This one doubles as a bus!
I don't know if you can see this little goats eye, but he's napping on the seat of the scooter!
And what' a farm without a farmer's market! Most stalls are lit by kerosene lamp after dark. Its currently mango season. Yum.
Today's post is short because the evening was spent at a going away party for my colleague Mark. And when he lands in the Midwest, I'm sure he's going to miss the howeven the most mundane tasks are never boring in India. I must think "Wait, what really!?!" at least three time a day. They really like to keep things spicy around here.
Take this auto repair garage as an example. Why limit yourself to one line of business?While a customer waits for the mechanic to fix his vehicle, he can do yoga to help relieve tension, or perhaps shop for houseplants, or if they take too long and he dies waiting (literally) they have a cemetery onsite. I pass this place on my walk to work and I often wonder if the owner realizes the irony of running a nursery and a cemetery a part of the same business. That's an Indian entrepreneur for you!
As a blond I get stared at. A lot. Strangers ask to take my picture, or film me with their mobile phones then pretend they dont understand when I tell them to stop. My roommate Hanne would regularly have auto drivers tell her she's the most beautiful woman they've seen, then ask her if she's married. Much of this attention is natural curiosity when confronted with the novelty of a blond, or fair skin but for several of us in the office, it's turned into something more.
One of the women in my apartment owns a small boutique called Pixy. Most of my friends have purchased saris from her, and one day we sent her a picture of us wearing her saris. Another day, I tried a dress her nephew designed. The next time I came in, I was surprised to see two 8x10inch glossy photographs above her closet next to her pooja shelf and several images of Ganesh. She's promised to add pictures of other clients in her clothes, but that was 5 months ago...
The next step on our path to fame was a promotional video for GodTV. A filmmaker friend from church asked me to cast my friends as four characters in a short clip for a UK audience. You can see the result below. ::blush:: All of the laughter in the first scene wasn't scripted, it was us busting up over how self conscious and silly we felt as I tried to "witness" to Hanne with my hands and my eyes but without any words. I love Casey's part best, who portrays the reformed alcoholic.
After that I started getting paid! I did another promotional film for Cisco with my filmmaker friend, then a print shoot for a designer friend. At 5'9" I'm taller 4 inches taller than the average Indian man (at 5'5"). Maybe that's why I'm considered tall enough for runway here. Perhaps being stared at constantly on the street prepared me for the pressure of parading in front of 300 pairs of eyes.
The guys, Henry, Mark and Troy, ended up on national television while cheering on Ireland during the England v. Ireland Cricket match in early March. This was the network's favourite footage, and aired it repeatedly throughout the night.
Once, my friend and I were separated in Chor Bazaar in Bombay, but once I gave up trying to look like I knew what I was doing, several shopkeepers asked if I was looking for my friend. I agreed and they reunited us at once! Insisting we sit and have some tea with them, and giving us jewelry boxes as gifts. Haha!
It's going to be a rude awakening when I return to the states and everyone on the street doesn't drop what their doing just to watch me walk by. While being different has had it's perks--as I've outlined above--I'm looking forward to returning to New York where I can relax in comfortable anonymity, because someone will always be weirder or prettier than me.
Recently I made the following confession to a friend in the states: "I'm addicted to food porn. I oogle pictures of baked goods and Barefoot Contessa entrees and fantasize about making and eating those things.." And while the serious lack of patisseries has lead me to learn how to make many american staples from scratch (pancakes and pretzels for instance) some things just refuse to manifest here: like whipping egg whites into soft peaks for the frosting to top our coconut Easter cake. All 5 male guests combined couldn't whip the whites Humph.
But there will come a time--in 26 days--when things will change and proper Indian curries and dosa are hard to come by. So a few friends have offered to share their recipes and homes to give me a lesson or two. Dorothy (pictured with me below) is the first celebrity chef I'm going to feature. She is famed for three things in our office: 1) her beautiful smile, 2) the fabulous saris he wears almost daily, ) her amazing cooking, which she always shares generously with the hungry expats who lurk around her desk. If you compliment her on any of these things, she credits her mom. :-)
Channa Masala
1.5 onions diced
2 tomatoes diced
A Little coconut diced
Ginger garlic paste ( 6 garlic cloves and .5 inch ginger ground)
2 T vegetable oil
.25 T coriander powder
1 t cumin powder
.25 t tumeric powder
1 t chili powder
1-2 cubed potatoes (optional)
.25 t mango powder (for north Indian flavour)
150 grams chickpea soak before cooking ( 3/4 cooked)
- Add salt and mango powder to taste. You will have timed this perfectly with the chicken gravy
- Top with cilantro when ready to serve
(Dorothy's mom. They make an excellent team!)
Chicken Gravy
For 1 kg chicken:
4T vegetable oil
2.5 onions
4 small tomatos
1T garlic-ginger paste
1 t chili powder
1 t coriander powder
.25 t cumin powder
.25 t tumeric
.25 t mutton masala powder
Salt
- Heat oil in pot, brown onions in the oil
- Dice and add tomatoes
- Add garlic ginger paste, let simmer 5 minutes
- Toss in chili powder, coriander powder, cumin and tumeric ("antibiotic elements for flesh dishes" according to Dorothy) and mutton masala powder. Mutton for a chicken dish? Of course!
- Again, when oil forms on top add chicken parts. Let simmer for 10 minutes before adding the potatoes and salt to taste.Remove from heat when chicken is cooked through.
Waste not! That dark bit is chicken liver!)
Dorothy made chapati to go with the curries, but was so fast I couldn't document the process properly.Find a similar recipe here.
