Category Archives: Daily Life

Wrapping up year 2 in India

June 4, 2013 Sharon Leave a comment

Our first year in India was hard, possibly the hardest first year we’ve had in our 12 years overseas. As Bob Hetzel, our outgoing school director, is fond of saying, “Whatever is true about India, the opposite is also true.” That makes it particularly difficult to learn the ropes and settle in to this city that defies all western logic. Add that to the heat, the pollution, the crowds, the chaos.

By the end of our first year, we were feeling marginally better about our decision to move here but still overwhelmingly frustrated. Then a departing teacher, who spent five years in New Delhi, shared this snippet of wisdom: “Your second year will be exponentially better. And your third year will be exponentially better than your second year. And so on. You won’t believe it!”

He was right. Year two really WAS exponentially better than year one. Not perfect, but much much better. I don’t really know WHY, but it was. As I gear up for a Michigan summer, I can honestly say I look forward to coming back to India in the fall.

New Delhi is finally starting to feel like home. We’ve even expanded our family after talking about it for years. We’re going to miss these girls over the summer, but I made a quick video to keep them with me as we travel.

Daily Life, India

Glamour Shots – Delhi Style

May 26, 2013 Sharon 10 Comments

Browsing through the shops in Delhi’s backpacker district, Pahar Ganj, I laughed with my friends Katrina and Nancy at the spangly belly dancing costumes for sale. “We should totally do a photo shoot wearing those outfits at some historical site!” we joked. Somehow that throw-away comment turned into a brilliant plan, which came to fruition last weekend.

The three of us became fast friends as “newbies” at the American Embassy School, and we’re now struggling with the knowledge that Katrina won’t be here after summer break; she’s heading back to the States. There couldn’t be a better going-away gift for this beautiful, elegant lady than Glamour Shots – Delhi Style. In addition, over the last two years, we three felt compelled to stage the clichéd Charlie’s Angels guns-drawn pose every time we spotted a camera. While those shots were all spontaneous, we couldn’t resist actually planning a special culminating picture.

As the day of the photo shoot approached, I tried on my costume. It was completely see-through and not at all flattering.

“Maybe we should wear our pretty Indian clothes instead,” I suggested. We each have saris, anarkalis or lehengas, which pop with color and better camouflage our flaws. We agreed to pose in our fancy outfits first, and then we’d change into our belly dancing costumes.

Around 7 a.m. Sunday, our make-up artist arrived (late) and went to work on me.

Yogita had no sense of humor about this experience, or maybe she just wasn’t a morning person. I told her I could do my own mascara, and she commanded me to make my lashes thick. “I’ll try,” I said, “but I only have about four lashes on each eye.” Katrina and Nancy laughed, but Yogita only responded drily, “I know. I saw.”
Katrina was next, then Nancy.

Finally we were ready to meet up with our photographer, Tim Steadman, who was patiently waiting at the Qutub Minar parking lot. Yogita clumsily banged her make-up suitcase down the stairs until it burst open and spilled her supplies everywhere. Already more than 30 minutes late, we rudely tiptoed over the scattered plastic boxes and brushes to dash out to my car.

Worried my long full skirt would get bunched under the car pedals, I opted to drive in capris. At the Qutub Minar parking lot, I pulled on my skirt and whipped off my pants before we phoned Tim to say we’d arrived. By the time we climbed into his car, it was about 9:45 a.m. and already 108ºF. He drove a short distance and pulled into a quiet road leading to the Mehrauli Archaeological Park, where we ladies had once visited on a walking tour. Check out MEHRAULI ARCHAEOLOGICAL PARK – AN URBAN OASIS. If you don’t feel like reading my old blog post, here’s a paragraph about the spot Tim chose for the day:

Sir Thomas Metcalfe, who was the East India Company’s resident at the Mughal Court, constructed his 19th-century country house right over the 17th-century mausoleum of Muhammad Quli Khan (an attendant to the Mughal emperor Akbar and stepson of Akbar’s wet nurse). Metcalfe’s dining room was apparently directly over Khan’s tomb, and he further embellished the area with pavilions, a dovecote and a waterway to bring visitors to the estate by boat.

Unfortunately, getting there required a bit of walking and climbing of steep steps. This trek was much easier on the aforementioned walking tour in appropriate footwear and sensible clothes. I tottered in my strappy sandals over the lawn and up the broken stone steps, clutching my wadded-up tulle dupata in one sweaty hand and layers of heavy polyester skirt fabric in the other. We took refuge in the shade but couldn’t avoid the scorching breeze that evaporated all the moisture from our eyes and lips.

Katrina’s a natural.

Lovely Nancy.

Me “working it.”

I think we were going for sultry here, but we mostly just look pissed.

One of my favorites.

That’s the 12th-century Qutub Minar in the background. Standing on the grounds of Delhi’s “first city” dressed in fancy Indian garb felt kinda magical.

Unlike Yogita, Tim had a wonderful sense of humor. “Just put one hand on your hip like this,” he would say, striking the pose. “And then stick out your other hip and look off in the distance.” It’s a good thing he knew how to pose us because only Katrina seemed to have a natural flair for modeling. I couldn’t help acting ridiculous, quoting Zoolander and Austin Powers. “Now you’re a lemur!”

We eventually got around to our Charlie’s Angels pose, accentuated with a nice windblown hair effect.

Not yet ready to wrap it up, we threw in a little Matrix action, too.

By the time we trudged back to Tim’s car, sweaty and dehydrated, we had lost the motivation to peel off our dresses and stage a redux in the belly dancing costumes. Whew!

Looking at Tim’s photos, we can’t help but notice our saggy baggy flabby bits, but it’s also easy to see the beauty – inside and out. This was a joyous, silly, beauty-filled day, and I felt especially grateful to have such amazing ladies in my life.

Here’s a video with some of my favorite shots.

Want more? Check out my flickr album, Charlie’s Angels – Delhi Style, with all 160 photos (80 shots in both color and B&W).

Daily Life, India, On the Road

5 weekends, 5 countries

May 18, 2013 Sharon Leave a comment

Yowza.

Maldives
Thailand
Oman
Nepal
India

In the last five weeks, I spent only one weekend in New Delhi. Finally, a few moments to process. So much has happened in such a short amount of time, personally and professionally. Here’s the scoop in chronological order:

Maldives – Nothing soothes my soul like a little time by the sea. Tony and I escaped for a week in Paradise for Spring Break. See my post about our relaxing vacation – Maldives Diary.

Thailand – As an EAL (English as an Additional Language) specialist, I co-teach in grade-level classrooms, usually during the literacy block. The workshop model at our school draws heavily on resources from the Teachers College Reading and Writing Project at Columbia University. For years, I’ve heard teachers rave about the Teachers College summer institutes, but I’ve never had an opportunity to go. Unable to get to the mountain, I brought the mountain to me! Well, the Near East South Asia Council of Overseas Schools brought the “mountain” to its Spring Educators Conference, and I was lucky to land a coveted spot in The Writing Project’s Foundation Course. I can see the eyerolls and exaggerated snoring sounds, but seriously, I was like a kid in a candy store. Top-notch instruction with immediate take-aways. That’s the kind of stuff teachers drool over. Another perk was networking and sharing ideas with educators from other international schools.
After 12 years overseas, it would be impossible to attend an international teachers conference and not see friends from my past – thank goodness! This conference was no different; I ran into people from our days in Istanbul, Shanghai and Vientiane.

Oman – As arguably the least-sporty coach at our school, I gave a pathetically weepy speech at the Season 3 Awards Ceremony last week. For some reason, the Forensics Team (debate, public speaking and drama) gets recognized alongside softball, baseball, badminton and track-and-field athletes. Maybe the “real” coaches found me a bit overdramatic, but that’s what we forensics geeks love. As one of four coaches who traveled with the team to Muscat, Oman, in mid-April, I felt overwhelmed with pride for their accomplishments at the tournament. See details at O, Man! Forensics and Fun in Muscat.

Nepal – With the end of the school year in sight, I joined four other ladies for a weekend get-away to Kathmandu to recharge our batteries and enjoy some quality time with two friends moving back to the States. Check out that post at Kathmandu – Ladies Weekend.

India – This is such a busy and emotional time in the life of a teacher abroad. Report cards, placement decisions for next year, language testing, farewell parties for friends moving on, big changes.

Looking back to May 2012, I can say our first year in India was hard, possibly the hardest first year we’ve had anywhere. As Bob Hetzel, our departing school director, is fond of saying, “Whatever is true about India, the opposite is also true.” That makes it particularly difficult to learn the ropes and settle in to this city that defies all western logic. By the end of our first year, we were feeling marginally better about our decision to move here but still overwhelmingly frustrated. Then a departing teacher, who spent five years in New Delhi, shared this snippet of wisdom: “Your second year will be exponentially better. And your third year will be exponentially better than your second year. And so on. You won’t believe it!” He was right.

Year two really WAS exponentially better than year one. Not perfect, but much much better. Despite the daily head-slapping confusion of living in a developing country, we also experience daily revelations. I cautiously look forward to an exponentially better year three. As we add two new members to our household, New Delhi is finally starting to feel like home.
Introducing Ella and Khushi.

Daily Life, India

Gimme a break

May 4, 2013 Sharon Leave a comment

I thought this would be the weekend I could slow down and take a breath. I have a month’s worth of backlogged blogs in my mind.
Then I remembered we coaches were taking our high school forensics team out to dinner Friday night.
Then I remembered I had compulsory CPR training Saturday morning, an awards ceremony for spring teams Saturday afternoon and a farewell party for some departing teachers Saturday night.
I’m finally getting my hair colored Sunday morning (after cancelling twice because of other commitments; my grey roots are staging a mutiny), but report cards are due next week, so there goes the rest of my day.
So, maybe I’ll slow down, take a breath and blog next weekend.
TTYL.

Daily Life, India

I’m still Shazza from the Block

March 23, 2013 Sharon 4 Comments

Couldn’t help it.
J-Lo circa 2002.
I think of that song every time I visit C-Block Market, the place for one-stop shopping in my ‘hood.

It’s not much to look at. Quite disgusting, actually. Blobs of sputum dot the path. Dingy concrete buildings with uninviting storefronts. Seedy looking youths at the liquor store’s take-away window. Bored men loitering by their motorbikes.

Yet, almost every time I visit this place, I find something new, encounter a friendly face and/or have an “only in Delhi” experience.

Top 10 places in C-Block Market and why I love them:

#10 – Liquor Store – You can’t swing a dead cat in Michigan without hitting a “Party Store” replete with beer kegs, 93 types of vodka, mixers galore and chipper clerks with helpful tips. I’m sad to report that is not the case in my ‘hood. If you get invited to a dinner party, or say, plan to watch 7 episodes in a row of Modern Family on Hulu, you will not easily find a place to meet your alcoholic beverage needs. This shop is not ideal. It’s staffed by surly men who clearly have strong feelings about women shopping for booze. There’s no air conditioning, so the wine is kept tepid at best and near boiling at worst. And unlike every other shop in this market, they don’t deliver. But beggars can’t be choosers.

#9 – The Pet Food Shop – Tony and I have been thinking about expanding our family. The topic comes up a lot, but we just can’t commit. We still miss Ketta, our psychotic yet loveable cat, who died about 10 years ago. Now a friend’s cat is pregnant, and it looks like a kitten or two may be in the cards. So it’s nice to know this friendly little shop sells cat food, kitty litter and toys.

#8 – The Book Palace – No bigger than a walk-in closet, this shop stocks stacks of English-language bestsellers and classics. I recently read Sweet Tooth by Ian McKewan on my Kindle and wanted an actual BOOK to contribute to my lending library/book club. The shopkeeper said he didn’t have it in stock, but he promised to find it. The next day, he delivered it to my house!

#7 – Batra Pharmacy – One hundred 5mg pills of Ambien for $5. Need I say more?

#6 – Sheviks Toys – When I need a birthday, Christmas or Diwali present for the little ones in my life, I head straight to this shop. From Legos to Bedazzlers, from The Very Hungry Caterpillar to Harry Potter, they have it all. Oh, and there’s a drycleaner in the back. Recently, I popped in to the toy store with my friend, Nancy, who tricked me into picking a belated birthday present for myself, one of the coolest presents EVER: Indian Barbie. Isn’t she beautiful?!

#5 – Electrician – Tucked in a side alley, the electrician sits in a tiny nook, leaning on his windowsill. All his wares lie within reach of his wobbly chair. One time, a power surge burned out one of our heavy-duty power strips, which caught on fire and melted. Seeking a replacement, I took it to the electrician and said, “I want a new one just like this.” He picked it up, studied it, set it down and said, “No new. I can fix.” I laughed, “It’s MELTED.” But no, he insisted and told me to come back in 15 minutes. I did, and sure enough, he fixed it.

#4 – Flower Vendors – You have to get here early or the poor flowers wilt in Delhi’s heat. A huge bouquet that takes two hands to carry will run you about 400 Rupees, or $8.

#3 – Golden Dragon Chinese Restaurant – Lotus Stem Honey Chilly Crispy Spinach appetizer. Yum! Plus, it triggers nostalgia for our Shanghai years with menu items like “Troublesome Chicken” and “Pork Globules.”

#2 – Sidewalk Tailor – You know how you hold on to clothes that need to be mended, no longer fit or look outdated? I had a whole stash of such things in the back of a closet until last weekend. I finally tossed them all in a bag and headed over to a tailor’s shop recommended by my friend, Mary Catherine. By “tailor,” she clearly meant “guy who sits at a sewing machine on the sidewalk,” and by “shop,” she obviously meant “not a shop.” So the guy went right to work while I stood there, taking in a hem here, replacing overstretched elastic there, cutting a few inches off the bottom of a dress. Then I posed the big challenge. I had bought a cute halter-top maxi dress for our upcoming beach vacation, but the back was too low-cut for a bra. “Can you insert some bra cups?” I asked. “Can do,” he responded, digging through a cardboard box of notions. Lace, elastic, buttons… no bra cups. “Other shop have,” he said. “Finish tomorrow.” Then he nervously spread the halter top over the palm of his hand and cautiously checked out my chest. “Oh, do you want me to try it on?” I asked. He nodded. I held the dress up to me and tied the halter around my neck, pulling the top taut over my T-shirt. This was attracting an audience. Next thing I knew, in front of God and all creation, he reached over and chalked my nipples. Had to be done, I know. And to be honest, it didn’t even seem that weird. Have I been in Asia too long? (Update: The bra cups – and the other alterations – worked out perfectly, all for the shocking price of $6!) Today I took Tony to the tailor to get sleeves cut off one of his dress shirts – done in 15 minutes for $2.

#1 – Pal Superstore – One word: cheese. And lots of it. All different kinds. About a fourth the size of a 7-11 in the States, this “superstore” is crammed full of goodies to meet our Western cravings. In addition to the cheese smorgasbord, it sells everything from cookies to cranberry juice, Pop Tarts to Perrier, Tostitos to toiletries. The other day, I stopped by to get some Clean and Clear Foaming Face Wash. The clerk found one remaining bottle, hidden behind 17 other brands of face wash. He dug it out and discovered the top had flipped open. He tried to snap it closed. No luck. He smacked it against the wall, but the top popped open again. This got the attention of two other men who may or may not actually work there. One grabbed the bottle, unscrewed the top and made a big show of blowing on it. When that didn’t work, the other guy snatched the bottle and dramatically pressed on the top with both thumbs to no avail. Finally, he gestured to me as though asking, “Shall I ring it up then?” Ummm… I’ll say no to six dirty hands and some spittle on my face wash, thank you very much. But I will take this cheese.

So, sing it with me, J-Lo fans:
Don’t be fooled by the rocks that I got
I’m still, I’m still Shazza* from the block
Used to have a little, now I have a lot
No matter where I go, I know where I came from.

* Shazza is my nickname bestowed by BFFs in Shanghai. Sounds way more hip than “Sharon from the block,” don’tcha think?

Daily Life, India

Cue the cows … and … action! Mom and Dad see REAL India

March 4, 2013 Sharon 7 Comments

India kindly handed my parents a genuine slice of life during their two-week visit.

Their taste of New Delhi’s daily grind included: pollution in the “red zone,” several power outages, taps running dry, driver had a row with his wife and didn’t show up to take us to work, housekeeper/cook took a day off for her uncle’s funeral, car broke down, dogs in the dumpsters, cows in the road, street kids tapping on the car windows at stoplights, and oh so many more sights, sounds and smells that keep our anxiety levels higher than healthy.

But set aside your disgust and frustration, and you see another side of India that sparks appreciation, or at least fascination. My parents also experienced:

The costumes, arts, crafts and music from the state of Karnataka (as well as the exuberance of school kids) at the annual Surajkund Mela.

The get-away-from-it-all Aravalli Biodiversity Park‘s twisting path through scrubby acacia trees and wild peacocks, just around the corner from our house.

The drumming, the dancing, the sequins of the over-the-top Epcot-esque venue and Bollywood stage show at Kingdom of Dreams.

The levity and intensity of eight Indian men desperately trying to pick out sunglasses for Dad at Ambience Mall.

The sneeze-inducing spice market, technicolor sari shops and gilded, spangly, tassled wedding accessories during a death-defying rollicking bicycle rickshaw ride through Old Delhi’s congested alleys.

The comfort zone of mini-America at our school and the American Embassy restaurant.

The time-travelling trip to the Mughal Dynasty in Agra (Taj Mahal, Agra Fort, Fatepur Sikri) and Delhi’s Qutub Minar.

The saris, the chaos, the smiles, the 10-minute alterations on vintage sewing machines at the local Sarojini Market.

The posh indulgence of a proper breakfast at the Imperial Hotel – twice.

The relative peace – not counting slum drumming, the high-pitched drone of construction equipment, and bellows of strolling cows – in our leafy Vasant Vihar neighborhood, with help from lovely Raji.

Poor Dad came down with the flu, or a cold, or pollution-related respiratory problems, poor guy. But overall, we had a great time! Tony and I enjoyed sharing the ups and downs (and fast curves and U-turns) of life in this place! We wanted to show them what we love about Delhi, but ultimately, they saw it all – the stunning and the heart-breaking. Because, really, there’s no other way to experience India.

(The iPhoto slideshows are a bit lame, I admit. I’m looking for a way to easily link photos from Flickr to make slideshows visible on Apple devices… in the meantime, you can check out the photos at my flickr photostream.)

Daily Life, India

Wedding Friday

February 17, 2013 Sharon 1 Comment

Our wonderful week of wedding festivities flew by, and I found myself consumed by work and other obligations before I had finished blogging about the wedding day itself. So here goes.

Sanna and Madhavkrishna tied the knot at the Shangri La Hotel on Thursday, Jan. 31. Tony and I arrived on time, having missed ceremonies and performances Monday and Wednesday in our attempt to be fashionably late. At the hotel, we were directed to follow the lime green carpet to a spot where Sanaa’s family lingered excitedly. They encouraged us to stand with them to receive the “baraat.” The entrance to the venue featured musicians playing a drum (called a dhol) and an auspicious traditional oboe (called a shehnai).

Posing with the musicians in my borrowed sari.

The baraat is a procession that brings the groom to the wedding venue. We’ve seen many of these processions around Delhi, often with the groom riding a white mare and accompanied by drummers and dancers. In this case, the groom arrived in a golf cart, preceded by a row of men carrying paintings of Hindu gods, and surrounded by revelers. His close male friends and family members sported bright orange turbans, while those on the bride’s side wore burgundy turbans. We later found out the turbans were a sign of honor, so we were touched that Sanaa’s brother, Karan, placed one on Tony’s head.

When the baraat arrived, we watched Sanaa’s parents greet Madhav’s parents and other relatives ceremoniously with garlands.

After all the groom’s guests had proceeded to the huge tent, the bride’s mother Alka started looking anxious. She craned her neck to see the hotel’s entrance, and then told us it was time for Sanaa to make her entrance. Finally, she emerged under a veil of flowers, flanked by her brother on one side and a girlfriend on the other. They walked her to a stage in the tent, where she and Madhav exchanged garlands.

Researching the rituals of an Indian wedding is like trying to categorize India itself. The answers only lead to more questions. Hindus from different regions celebrate in different ways. At one point, even Sanaa’s brother couldn’t tell me what was going on. Sanaa’s parents sat with Madhav for quite a long time, following the priest’s directions, which included sprinkling various things on the groom’s hands and feet. I snapped a few photos, but I had no idea what I was shooting. After awhile, Sanaa was escorted over to join them, and a number of other rituals took place, some involving her beautifully hennaed feet.

Next, they performed “pheras,” circling a pious fire seven times. According to Wikipedia (which aligned with several Indian culture websites but with better English):

1. In the first round or phera, the couple prays to God for plenty of nourishing and pure food. They pray to God to let them walk together so that they will get food.
2. In the second round, the couple prays to God for a healthy and prosperous life. They ask for the physical, spiritual and mental health from God.
3. In the third phera the couple prays to God for wealth. They ask God for the strength for both of them so that they can share the happiness and pain together. Also, they pray so that they can walk together to get wealth.
4. In the fourth round the couple prays to God for the increase in love and respect for each other and their respective families.
5. The bride and groom together pray for the beautiful, heroic and noble children from God in the fifth step.
6. In the sixth holy round around the fire, the couple asks for the peaceful long life with each other.
7. In the final seventh round the couple prays to god for companionship, togetherness, loyalty and understanding between themselves. They ask God to make them friends and give the maturity to carry out the friendship for lifetime. The husband says to his new wife that now they have become friends and they will not break their friendship in life.

Congratulating the proud papa.

Jasmine and marigolds everywhere!

We left after the three-hour ceremony but before the dinner. (It was a school night!) Tony and I both feel deeply honored and grateful for the opportunity to participate in this gorgeous cultural experience, and we wish a lifetime of happiness to Sanaa and Madhav.

Daily Life, India

Sangeet Wednesday

February 4, 2013 Sharon 1 Comment

If we felt confused about the mehendi party on Monday, this day was no different. The invitation said “Sangeet” and the bride’s mother had explained that it was the engagement party. An engagement party the day before the wedding? Clearly more research was needed. A google search yielded heaps of conflicting information, so once again it was trial by fire. In retrospect, this wedding planner’s website offers a Sangeet description similar to the one we attended Wednesday for Sanaa and Madhavkrishna. Bottom line: the Sangeet is a big party.

Indians are not known for their punctuality. Apparently, members of the wedding party don’t know that. Tony and I didn’t want to be the only ones at the Sangeet, so we arrived at the Shangri-La Hotel ballroom about an hour late, unfortunately missing the ceremony. (Who knew there was going to be a ceremony?) We were told the bride, Sanaa, sang and danced, and other family members performed skits. Dang it! We got there in time to see Sreeram, winner of Indian Idol’s 5th season, though. He seemed disappointed at the empty dance floor. (I didn’t find out till later he was so famous, or I would have taken more photos.)

We greeted Sanaa and Madhu. I felt like a fluttery nervous schoolgirl in the presence of a princess.

I asked to see Sanaa’s mehendi, and she pointed out her fiance’s name painted on one hand and his initial “M” hidden in the henna swirls of the other hand. The groom-to-be is supposed to search for his hidden name in a romantic little game. This photo is blurry because the bossy handlers were rushing me.

After mingling a bit, we followed the crowd to a large veranda, where dinner was being served. I couldn’t take my eyes off everyone’s clothes long enough to eat anything.

With help from friends, I dressed more appropriately for the Sangeet, borrowing this gorgeous anarkali from Nancy, the gold shawl from Deepa, and the purse from Katrina.

Daily Life, India

Mehendi Monday

February 3, 2013 Sharon 2 Comments

As we wrap up a week of wedding festivities, I hardly know how to start writing about it. Like everything in India, the events were hard to process at the time.

Our landlord, Ashwani, and his wife, Alka, live downstairs with their daughter, Sanaa. Sanaa completed a master’s degree in England last year, returned to work in Delhi and recently announced her plans to marry childhood friend, Madhavkrishna. The proud parents invited us to three of the celebrations: Mehendi on Monday, Sangeet on Wednesday, and the wedding ceremony on Thursday. This was our first wedding in India, so we had absolutely no idea what to expect.

Workers draped the entire house in lights, and enclosed the courtyard with orange and gold fabric, woven to create a roof and walls. Garlands of marigolds and jasmine adorned the courtyard and stairwell.

Last week, I had a quick chat with Alka, mother of the bride. I was feeling anxious about what to wear to these events, and Alka calmly assured me that whatever I wore would be fine. (Note to all Indian women: You do foreigners a big disservice by acting so nonchalant about such things. Please, I beg you, give us explicit instructions about how to comply with your cultural norms.)

Alka told me a “suit” would be appropriate for Monday’s mehendi party. “Suit” does not imply an Ally McBeal mini-skirt and jacket, as it did in the States back in the days I actually wore business suits. In India, a suit is a long top with blousy pants. This outfit ranges from relatively casual embroidered cotton to flowy embellished chiffon. With that in mind, I planned to wear my gray silk kurta (long top) and mauve choridar (tight-legged pants that gather at the ankle). Fortunately, I sought advice one more time from a cousin visiting from the States for the wedding. “It’ll be pretty fancy,” she said.

Panic set in. Right after school, I dashed off to Sarojini Market and popped in to a tiny dress shop. The salesclerk plopped one kurta after another on the counter, but my brain froze. I didn’t even know what to ask for. Finally I blurted, “I’m going to a mehendi party TONIGHT!” He swept all the kurtas off the counter and said, “Come in.” At the back of the shop, he started pulling packages off the shelves, whipping the brightly-colored garments out of the plastic and piling them in front of me. “This is the latest fashion,” he said. I picked one, tried it on over my dress, and realized it needed a little altering.

“Ten minutes,” the shopkeeper said. He then walked me around the corner to a bangle shop, which was packed with ladies. The bangle man stood behind a glass display case, surrounded by thousands of bangles in every size, color and degree of bling. Each lady in turn placed an item of clothing on the counter, and he quickly darted around his tiny space, pulling bracelets off the shelves and yelling requests to a worker in a storage space upstairs, who lowered bags of bangles through a hole in the awning. The banglemeister shuffled the delicate bracelets like cards, masterfully color-coordinating and arranging them on a wooden dowel, which he then held up to the light to dazzle the customer. I waited about 30 minutes for my turn. In the meantime, Tony had brought my perfectly altered dress (called an “anarkali”), so taking my cue from the Indian ladies, I placed it on the counter. Bangle Man gently felt my hand to determine the size and then flitted about, collecting fuchsia, black, green and gold bangles of varying widths and flashiness. I bought 20 bangles for each arm, which turned out to be excessive, but I couldn’t resist!

Tony was an extremely reluctant chaperone on this night because his Indian colleagues at school had told him this was a ladies-only event. In fact, my online research supports their claims. Based on what I read, I was expecting an intimate but lively evening with ladies sprawled out on cushions, offering marriage advice to young Sanaa while classical musicians played in the background and mehendi artists painted henna designs on our hands. However, father-of-the-bride Ashwani explicitly invited Tony to the mehendi party. See why confusion is our constant companion in India?

The mehendi party took place at a hotel, and the minute we stepped into the foyer, I knew we were out of our league. Far from intimate, the hotel ballroom filled with more than a hundred guests. My new anarkali felt extremely casual among ladies draped in saris and dripping with jewels. Feeling self-conscious, I quickly left the crowd to get my hands painted. The one fabulous part of my outfit – the glittery bangles – only made a brief appearance, as I had to remove them for mehendi. For most of the night, I walked around with wet henna, unable to hold a glass or eat any of the appetizers. While Tony took advantage of the open bar and omnipresent strolling waiters, I let go of my wardrobe worries and chatted with other guests, trying not to smear the mehendi. Eventually, I brushed off some of the crusty dried henna to sample the snacks and wine, but I learned my lesson. The more experienced wedding-goers explained that I should only get one hand painted next time to free up the other hand for eating and drinking.

The bride’s brother, Karan, gave a sweet speech about his little sister, and the crowd began to dance.

Tony and I felt humbled by the family’s kindness and inclusive spirit. We never stood alone or felt left out, and we enjoyed interesting conversations with visitors from all over the world, including Denver, San Francisco, Singapore and other cities in India. Shortly before midnight, we said our good-byes.
“You’re not staying for the dinner?” people asked.
We didn’t even realize they were serving dinner! But, no thank you, we told them. It was already way past our bed time on a school night, and we knew it was going to be a long week.

I brushed off the dry mehendi a bit prematurely, and I didn’t coat my hands in oil before going to bed, so the henna design isn’t as vibrant as it otherwise would have been. Still fantastic, though!

This is a bad photo taken with Tony’s phone while I was trying not to mess up my hands, but I wanted to show Sanaa’s beautiful orange sari. She and her groom-to-be were watching the entertainment.

Daily Life, India

The luxury of electricity

January 12, 2013 Sharon Leave a comment

Since returning to Delhi last weekend, I’ve been itching to sit down and write on my blog. Unfortunately, January is the chilliest time of year, and we don’t have indoor heat. We work all day at a toasty-warm school and then return home to frigid temperatures, where the concrete walls and floors trap the cold. Every evening after school, we bundled up in layers, ate dinner on our guest bed with a space heater positioned at our feet, and watched sitcoms on hulu till bedtime. I could barely hold a fork, much less type with my popsicle fingers. The sun finally peeked out yesterday, warming up the air. I looked forward to spending the weekend culling photos and documenting our Christmas. I got up early and was just ready to sit down at my computer when – pop! – the power went off. Good thing I had already made coffee! Back-up batteries protect our electronics, but we have to shut everything down when we lose power. The school sent an electrician, who “fixed” the problem, just in time for me to leave for a baby shower (without bathing – no working water heaters). As soon as I got home, I flipped on my computer, started to write a post, and – pop! – the power went off AGAIN. This time, I stomped around the house, whined a lot, ate half a bag of Chips Ahoy cookies, and barked sarcastic comments at Tony.

I went out to the stairwell to look at the breaker box. This is what I saw.

About 5 minutes later, beep! – the power was back on. No telling how long we’ll have this luxury, so I’d better hustle.

The Guide Hog

Category Archives: Daily Life

Wrapping up year 2 in India

Glamour Shots – Delhi Style

5 weekends, 5 countries

Gimme a break

I’m still Shazza from the Block

Cue the cows … and … action! Mom and Dad see REAL India

Wedding Friday

Sangeet Wednesday

Mehendi Monday

The luxury of electricity

Adventures in Teaching and Travel