Bobble me this, Bobble me that

The Indian head bobble is famous. It has confused foreigners for centuries. Instead of a nod, an Indian will bobble his or her head from side to side in agreement with varying degrees of enthusiasm depending on their personality, social status, and always the situation. Probably the amount of head bobbling their mothers did in the home plays an important role as well because this head bobble is rather contagious.
When Star was 4 she picked it up rather quickly and then lost it again when we return back to the US. Flip followed her big sister and was a faithful head bobbler, although I can see it fading already. But if I bobble at her, she quickly bobbles back. I, on the other hand, chose to employ the head bobble. It just made life easier when talking with auto drivers, cooks, cleaners, assistant teachers in the girls' school, etc. Also secretly, I enjoyed practicing while friends were talking to see just how little movement I could do and still produce a quality head bobble. I thought I was in control of the head bobble, but apparently not.
Yesterday, while setting up our classroom with my new co-teacher she suggested an arrangement of furniture. I agreed it looked nice and she gave me the most peculiar look and responded, "What? You don't like that?" For a moment I was confused. I had said yes.  I had agreed. And then I realized I had head bobbled her.

Stuck between

Everyone keeps asking, "Are you happy to be back?" Or just assuming, "You must be glad to be back." And yes, I am, but I feel like a traitor if I say it.

This past weekend we gave my father in law a surprise party. It was absolutely fabulous. The surprise went off well. The venue gave us all a gorgeous view of Washington, DC. My sister in law had organized everything so well. We saw so many old friends. It was so much fun to catch up.
And my folks came. Both sets. This is always a blessing and a curse for a divorced child. Of course, I was overjoyed to see them both after 9 months and the fact that I got to see them immediately after returning home was a bonus. But then the uncomfortable part sets in.

As a divorced kid at a party with both of your parents plus spouses I always feel pulled. Spend some time with mom, now spend some time with dad. Make sure I don't spend too much time with mom. Is dad ok? Did my step mom and dad find a place to sit? Are mom and step dad having fun? Oh ok, now all four parents are together. Is this good? Is this bad? Do I need to join them?

My sister tells me it is my choice if I want to do this. I am an adult and they are adults. And she is right, but there is always a part of me that feels between these two parents, who I love so deeply and I feel very strongly that I want to protect.

This is also the way I feel about my Indian home. Yes, I am happy to be back, but I am also so so sad to have left my friends and my home. If there had not been a deadline we could have carried on indefinitely. I try to balance my FB posts between "happy homecomings" and "missing you". I want to let both sides know how much they mean to me and my family. I feel like that divorced kid again, stuck between two parents who I love deeply.

Heading to the Play Area

If I were in India right now Star would be rushing through the last bits of her homework trying to get outside. We would hear the laughter of the girls down at the play area. I would be checking out the window to see if Bhanu had convinced Vishal to quit playing cricket and come to the play area. I would also be trying to convince Flip to stop doing extra pages in her homework book and go outside with me.
We would once again discuss the Setty rule of "if you ride bikes you wear helmets" no matter if you feel different from the rest of the kids because they don't wear helmets. I would fight with Flip to try to get her to wear anything but flip flops and most of the time I would lose. The girls would decide between scooters or bikes. I would run back in to fill the forgotten water bottles and we would head down with my girls fighting over who gets to push the lift button.
This early, it would usually be just Bhanu and I, but if we were lucky Sumita and Surahbi would be there.  Maybe Sujatha and Anaya. Flip and Ahbi would climb on the swings and begin their calls of "Auntie- Under Dog!" It had become "my thing" and no one else was as skilled as I in pushing the little ones high and then running under the swings shouting "Under Doooog!" as I went. Star and her gaggle of friends would come and go. They would ride bikes or scoot around. They might go to the chit-chat area and play Crock-a-Chain. Or they might sit by the pool and just talk.
After a bit Lakshmi would come down with a big "Hi Girls!" And Bhanu and Lakshmi would have their daily complain-fest about folks hanging clothes on their railings. I would roll my eyes and laugh at them. Bhanu always laughed back. Lakshmi would start her explanation with, "No, you see...." Poornima would come strolling down from the pool entrance, just suddenly appearing between the trees. Bala Auntie would join us after her 1 or 2 rounds. We might see Sowmya on her balcony.
And just as we are all deep in discussion about some recipe or new Chinese restaurant Bhanu would let loose with, "Vi-SHAL, Vi-SHAL!" as she tried to find her forever wandering son. Most of the time we would spot him or his big sister would be sent to locate him. And the conversation would continue.
Sanju would come sauntering in with Niru behind holding some toys but full knowing that Sanju would not play with her own toys. Her toys would be placed in the sandpit or her bike on the edge. Sanju would saunter off to find someone else's sand toys or bike to play with. Just part of her charm.
Around 6.30 the menfolk would come. The menfolk only consisted of Marvel, Chida, Subash and maybe Suraj. But the conversation rolled on, taking time to greet and welcome each friend as they joined the circle. At times the conversation would be serious as the residents discussed some problem with the complex, while us "renters" just hung out and waited for them to finish. But most of the time, this time at the play area was just a way to come together and laugh. And man, did we do a lot of laughing.
So while my body is here in Michigan, looking at my suitcases that have exploded all over my house, my heart is in Sankalp heading down to the play area. I miss you all dearly! You know who you are.

My To-Do List

When I go to the grocery store I always make a list but then when I get to the store I never pull it out. I usually do very well at remembering what I wanted but I of course go home and curse myself for forgetting one or two things.
So when I came to India I had a list of 5 things
1) family portraits. A cousin had posted hers and they were so lovely. I thought it would be a great idea to get some made as I know it be cheaper.
2) a stamp with our address on it. Not our name, but just the address. I figured this would save my hand at Christmas time. And we could just pass it along with the house when we move.
3) small dessert forks. No explanation needed.
4) passport photos, a whole stack of them. After the adoption and PIO and passports I have almost gone  broke at $12.95 for 2.
5) jewelry fixed. We have an array of chains that have broken and they sit useless in a box.

So what did I remember and what did I forget on this next to the last day in India?

1) Never happened. Didn't even come close. I got a horrible haircut for G and kept waiting for it to grow out and then I lost the motivation.
2) mmm, might be in the works. It depends on Indian Standard Time.
3) YES, at home  in a suitcase!
4) We had one set made by the only background that was offered was red and blue- no go for any official US business. Plus I looked a bit angry.
5) still broken. Still in the box. I considered trying to go tomorrow but instead I just repacked it in my suitcase.

Guess that means we have to come back.

Last Monday in Mysore

We threw a Good-bye Party today. It was a casual drop-in for some folks from the complex, school friends and family. It is hard to get the chance to say good bye to everyone when life is going, so we figured the best way to see everyone was to invite them home. We decided to make pani puri so folks could make their own and I wouldn't have to serve everyone. ;-) And I hired Srini to stay late and make pizzas.

At 9 am, I rushed the girls off to school.
At 9.15 am I pried Flip out of my arms and into the arms of her teacher feeling like the worst mother in the world.
At 9.30 am I visited the fruit/veggie market for the very last time. After I bought all my fruit for the gift bags I told the fruit vendor good bye and he carried my bags to my car for me.
At 10.15 am I joined Srinivas in the kitchen prepping everything we needed for the evening.
At 12.15 pm We finished and I lucked out by grabbing an auto rickshaw driver who actually turned the meter without me asking.
At 12.30 pm Flip greeted me with a big hug and assured me she did not suffer all morning long. I felt slightly better.
At 2.00 pm I finally got a shower and began to stop cleaning and started shoving things in closets and under beds.
At 4.00 pm I thought, "What a stupid idea!"
At 5.00 pm I had a gin and tonic in my hand and was teaching Srinivas how to make pizza.
At 6.00 pm The room was filled with friends, food, laughter, and kids. Perfect chaos.
At 7.00 pm The place looked like play doh has exploded in every corner and people were still "dropping by".
At 8.30 pm My lack of food and my excess of gin had caught up to me in the form of a headache and I was sending secret messages for everyone "get out of my house".
At 11.25 pm Everything is tidied. Advil has kicked in. I am ready for bed and thinking, "Why didn't people stay longer?"

White Warts and All

Good friends had a house warming yesterday. They had been renters in the complex when they first moved back from the US but after some time they decided to purchase a flat for their own. From what I understand there was a series of poojas that were performed by a priest and with the owners, but as the pooja started at 4.30 am I was not around to testify to what actually happened. The girls and Marvel dropped by before school and then Marvel and I returned mid-morning. I borrowed simply lovely sari from a friend and managed to get some help making it look “model like”. All of our Sankalp buddies had not shown up yet, so mostly the people present at the pooja were family of our friends. People we hadn’t met before (a.k.a. people who haven’t been up close and personal with a white woman married to a brown man). As we walked out of the elevators I could feel the eyes on us. And they didn’t leave us the whole time. The way Indians stare it should be an Olympic Event. There is no shame. There is no blinking. There is no smiling. There is no looking away to avoid being caught.

One long wall of the main room was lined with plastic chairs stretching from the entryway the whole length of the room. All the plastic chairs are filled with woman. As we walked in the door all eyes looked up and followed us. I try to accept the fact that folks are just curious, not malicious, and carry on. We found our friends and said hello. We found their daughter, who is Flip's best buddy, and assured her Flip would be back for lunch. We checked out the new flat, which was of course gorgeous. And then we sat on the floor. And as I looked up I found all of the woman in the plastic chairs had turned their heads away from the pooja and were staring at us. Marvel and I carried on as we do, sitting close and discussing what needed to happen in the day to be ready for our trip to Bangalore. Flip's buddy, Surahbi, came up frequently to me for help tying something on her skirt, to throw away trash or to just ask a question. When the photographer took her photo, and I asked her to, she gave a BIG smile- the kind of smile I know her mom and dad would love to see in a picture. Surahbi is a kid. Without a doubt I know she sees my white skin. She has asked me about it. But mostly what she sees is Flip’s mom. I am the lady who has given her popsicles, set up tents made of sheets, helped her go potty, wiped away her tears when her friend, Flip, wasn’t being nice, told her NO, and let her make a mess of my house.

I firmly believe everyone should embrace the chance to be the minority in their life. It is hard to be the “only one” in the room. It is hard to realize no matter what you do you will always be the odd one out, you will be judged by some unknown standards, or you might be asked the most uncomfortable questions. It is hard to accept that most of the time this is done not out of ill will, but out of ignorance from the majority. But it is even more difficult to accept and to reflect on the fact that you have probably done this to some other minority in your ignorance. But on the other side, I pray everyone has the chance to feel completely accepted, white warts and all, for exactly who they are and what they can honestly offer up to others. 

Am I checking out?

My friends around here tease me that I have already checked out. I didn't make the effort to wear a sari for a baby naming function yesterday. I wasn't front and center watching the pooja. They are joking on me, but part of me thinks I am checking out.
We had a super lazy Sunday yesterday. Star had her last dance class. We had a function to attend and a bucket meal to devour. And then we did nothing. The girls ran in and out of the house. We watched TV, a lot of TV, which is rare for us. We watched all of Forrest Gump. Man, I love that movie. And when it was over- after I cried all my make up off- I went downstairs to say hello to friends. I was doing all my normal things- dropping off my milk jug, saying hi to passing kids, and giving polite nods to the older generation who still just like to stare at me- but it felt like it was one of my first days in India. I had spent hours in "America" with Forrest Gump and waking up back in Sankalp felt strange.
Today I put on my IPod for the first time in months and went for a walk. My playlist is an eclectic mess- the Drifters, Snoop Dog, Bon Jovi, Buddy Miller... But listening to all this music, my music, made my heart happy. So happy I started singing aloud and didn't stop even as I passed the guard house and the security uncles all cringing from my off key voice.
I think I AM checking out. I think I am longing for the US and my old self. I am really going to miss Mysore, my eyes tear up as I write this, but for the first time in 9 months I am ready to come home.

Delhi and the Metro

We headed to Delhi over the weekend. Marvel had some work and the girls and I tagged along.  Even though we have been here for 9 months everyday life has taken a hold of us and we have not had a chance to travel as much as we would have liked.  We assure ourselves there will be many more visits to India and many more chances to travel. But as we are stuck neither here nor there, a visit to Delhi seemed like a good way to spend part of our last 3 weeks in India.

We arrived the day after the blackout of the Northern Grid, so we were quite lucky the power had been restored.  Unfortunately for Marvel, though, the traffic was still horrid.  He traveled 8 km in an hour and a half and missed his first meeting. The concierge in our fancy shmancy hotel advised the girls and I to stay put and not venture out. We were only too happy to comply.  We swam. We ate lunch at an amazing Italian restaurant and followed it up with a nap. At 5, I tried to convince them out for a walk but they firmly protested and spent the next 2 hours splashing in the bathtub.  It had been 3 months since they had been in a tub and obviously that was too long.

The next day we ventured out in a hired car and faced the traffic which thankfully wasn't as bad as the day before. It was a holiday, Rakhi, so perhaps that helped. Rakhi is a festival which celebrates the relationship between a brother and a sister. The sister ties a sacred string (or a shiny string with a trinket these days) on the brother's wrist and the brother gives sweets or chocolates to the sister. The feeling of the festival was really driven home when we drove past the large prison in Delhi. The outer wall was lined with women for almost a km waiting to get the chance to tie rahki for their brothers.

The following day I convinced the girls to take a Metro ride with me down to India Gate. We bought our tokens, found the correct train and hopped on the last car just as our train was pulling out. It was crowded but we had done crowded in Japan. But then more and more and more people got on. As the Metro had be immobilized by the blackout I was determined to stay near the door in case another blackout happened. I did not want to be stuck in the middle of the car. And still more people than I possibly imagined continued to get on the car. But thankfully due to my white skin or my 2 adorable girls, we rode with a 6 inch buffer that no one seemed to want to cross. As we traveled we heard the announcement about the "Ladies Car" being the first car on the train.  It was then that I looked around and noticed every other person in the car with us was male. Not that it really matters to me, because I have found in India, when I am with my children I am never approached or made to feel uncomfortable. I am seen as a mother and men go out of their way to be nice or to help me. But as more and more stinky, sweaty men crowded into our car I decided the "Ladies Car" was the way to go on the way home.

We landed at Ragiv Chowk and Star's mouth dropped when she saw all the people moving around the station.  She asked me, "Did you know there was going to be this many people in Delhi?" We slowly made our way to India Gate via an extremely expensive auto rickshaw. As Star's cheeks redden from the heat and sweat beaded on her nose and Flip's body hung limply on my hip, I insisted that we stand in the blazing heat and admire the beauty of India gate for at least 3 minutes, and then we retreated to the shade to find a white dad and 2 girls doing the same.

The mom joined and we started chatting. I offered them banana bread. They offered us cold water. We learned the mom and dad were teachers and lived in Tamil Nadu for 3 years while working at an International School.  Their eldest daughter was born in India and they had brought her back to see her birth place. They were on a whirlwind 2 week trip around India which reminded me so much of our whirlwind trip around Japan. After both families had recovered from the sun and the heat, we said good bye and walked away. I told Star, that is what I love about traveling. We were in the same place at the same time. We shared a moment and now we both disappear back into the world.

Our trip home on the Metro was definitely less crowded as we rode in the "Ladies Car". And it was a beautiful sight to see our hotel just outside the metro stop gates. As we walked up the hill back to the hotel little Flip said, "We will be alright once we get back into the hotel." I might be raising worldly kids, but they are still soft.