Am trying hard to do away with paper in the kitchen. In its place I am trying to use cloth kitchen towels -different sets for wiping counters, for drying utensils and one for drying hands. I am trying to use reusable shopping bags. Am making a concious effort to stay away from plastic cutlery and paper cups, plates.
In the beginning of this decade when I first came to this country the copious supply of paper from the kitchen to the bathroom to wet wipes to kleenex in cars and lobbies of offices impressed me. I found the no-mess, no-fuss cleaning that paper affords so easy. Who wouldn't? Why would someone deal with a dirty dish rag ?
Paper plates and plastic cutlery weren't new to me, but they are used much more here than what I was used to in India. Aaah, just use-n-throw, so clean, I used to think! Especially when it comes to eating at little joints and eateries, the cleanliness of the utensils used by us guests was never something to worry about.
Each and every thing that we thought made life easy, convenient and simply better is now coming back to bite us in a big way.
When my parents ever used a cloth bag, I used to cringe. If my parents ever suggested using sheets of paper whose back sides were plain, we thought they were being too thrifty. When they did not want to throw away any piece of furniture or a household item that could find an alternate use, we let out an incredulous sigh! But now I am trying hard to get lean, mean and green!
I particularly remember when , one time, just before a train journey, my mother wanted to take drinking water in a stainless steel vessel ( called a gooja, it's a special vessel with its own lid , used exclusively to carry water, buttermilk or hot beverages) and I adamantly put my foot down and vetoed it. I would be too embarassed, I told her ; we could just get 2 bottles of water. I am still not so cool with the idea of a gooja, but I 've sufficiently distanced myself from plastic bottles.
It's funny how the many things we upheld, the many ideas we had and our internal code of right and wrong have meandered and morphed over the years to something very different. This is not limited to environment -friendliness, but as I age I find many things about my parents' ideas and thoughts, their advice start to have more meaning, relevance and making more sense to me
When I discuss these things with my mother, her response is - ' You children never find what we say to be of any value. If the same thing is said in fancy english and if it's said on websites and on TV, that is when it becomes saturated with meaning!'. Once again, I roll my eyes!
Nothing in particular-isms
As a spouse and a parent, every woman practises sacrifice, patience and forgiveness everyday. We are all just nuns in plain clothes. Without wearing a habit, we've made these virtues a habit.
If there is hell, one of its torture chambers would consist of 'ab exercises' exclusively, I am sure. After an exhillarating zumba class that was equal parts dance club and concentration camp, the last 10 mins of abs was pure, unadulterated pain. There was one set where we had to sit leaning back at a 30-40 deg angle, pressing down on a ball placed between the lower back and the floor, legs bent at the knees, feet resting on the floor. Maintaining this stance, we had to do a bow and arrow pose, only thing that imaginary arrow was making a U turn and impaling me !!!! In that pose, we were asked to turn and look to the far right, I saw my neighbor's face shaking in pain.
If there is hell, one of its torture chambers would consist of 'ab exercises' exclusively, I am sure. After an exhillarating zumba class that was equal parts dance club and concentration camp, the last 10 mins of abs was pure, unadulterated pain. There was one set where we had to sit leaning back at a 30-40 deg angle, pressing down on a ball placed between the lower back and the floor, legs bent at the knees, feet resting on the floor. Maintaining this stance, we had to do a bow and arrow pose, only thing that imaginary arrow was making a U turn and impaling me !!!! In that pose, we were asked to turn and look to the far right, I saw my neighbor's face shaking in pain.
Golu galatta - part 2
About six or seven cardboard boxes full of idols arrived in Bangalore with us. Amidst all other engagements, commitments and a high energy 2 yr old , I used up every little block of time I got to segregate the different sets ( some of the sets were in multiples), clean the dolls free of hay( which clung to the dolls) which being a farm product is deemed inadmissible by U.S.Customs. I then packed the dolls in sheets of bubble wrap and secured them with scotch tape. Then these packages were further rolled in little towels, sarees and other pieces of clothing. Since weight not volume is the bottleneck while packing suitcases, it had to be ensured that these bundles would not have a whole lot of room jostling and shaking on their overseas journey. Everytime I tried to get at least a few dolls packed and into the bags, my daughter would wake up prematurely from her nap. Every vegetable vendor, tender coconut seller, courier service worker, kashmiri carpet seller, flower seller, milk man was very successful in waking up this extremely light sleeper. At the end of a few days, my parents, my sisters and cousins got tired of seeing me completely engrossed in this exercise oblivious to all else. One by one my suitcases got packed, my vacation got over and before you could say 'cat in the hat' I was struggling to buckle my aircraft seat belt, tears flooding up my eyes. Every time after a trip to India, I suffer from post-travel depression. A lot of internalizing, a lot of soul searching happens in the days following return.
Why am I here, what am I doing here?
What is all this worth , when my family is so far away?
How long will this 'once in 2 or 3 yr visits' that are barely 3 weeks long, go on?
Everytime I go, I notice more grey hair , more wrinkling in my parents, it wrings my heart.
This time the depression was very acute and lasted much longer than it normally does. The very cold winter spelled more gloom-and-doom , exacerbating my homesickness. After a painful couple of months, life caught up with me.
Months flew by, Navarathri was again round the corner.
The dolls were ready. We went about the task of building a staircase arrangement to display them. A few experienced golu-keepers gave us some loose guidelines on how to go about this, which took us to the lumber section of the store.
A day was spent doing multiple trips to Home Depot and Lowes, some serious discussion on how to build the support for the structure, what wood could and couldn't be cut, what tools we possessed and how much handyman-ness DH could pull off. Some of the discussion was pure humor as we tried to translate our goal into something the salesman could understand.
The vertical pieces of wood on either side that support the horizontal stair between them are called stringers or deck steps.
Us : We don't need something for outdoors, this'll be in our living room
him : you're building a deck in your living room?
some more explanation ensues
Us : It'll be a temporary thing, we'll dismantle this after 10 days
him: You're building a staircase that you need just for 10 days?.
.
.
.
.
Us : It need not be very heavy duty, it's not for people to step on.
him : It's for a pet?
Us : Actually, it's for displaying dolls
him : You're having a sale, uh?
This and more spiced up the otherwise onerous process of evaluating what we needed to build - a staircase that'd just lay against a wall , but not get mounted on it.
It took DH more than a half day to measure and meticulously clamp, screw together and create it.
Part 3 will follow with pictures.
Why am I here, what am I doing here?
What is all this worth , when my family is so far away?
How long will this 'once in 2 or 3 yr visits' that are barely 3 weeks long, go on?
Everytime I go, I notice more grey hair , more wrinkling in my parents, it wrings my heart.
This time the depression was very acute and lasted much longer than it normally does. The very cold winter spelled more gloom-and-doom , exacerbating my homesickness. After a painful couple of months, life caught up with me.
Months flew by, Navarathri was again round the corner.
The dolls were ready. We went about the task of building a staircase arrangement to display them. A few experienced golu-keepers gave us some loose guidelines on how to go about this, which took us to the lumber section of the store.
A day was spent doing multiple trips to Home Depot and Lowes, some serious discussion on how to build the support for the structure, what wood could and couldn't be cut, what tools we possessed and how much handyman-ness DH could pull off. Some of the discussion was pure humor as we tried to translate our goal into something the salesman could understand.
The vertical pieces of wood on either side that support the horizontal stair between them are called stringers or deck steps.
Us : We don't need something for outdoors, this'll be in our living room
him : you're building a deck in your living room?
some more explanation ensues
Us : It'll be a temporary thing, we'll dismantle this after 10 days
him: You're building a staircase that you need just for 10 days?.
.
.
.
.
Us : It need not be very heavy duty, it's not for people to step on.
him : It's for a pet?
Us : Actually, it's for displaying dolls
him : You're having a sale, uh?
This and more spiced up the otherwise onerous process of evaluating what we needed to build - a staircase that'd just lay against a wall , but not get mounted on it.
It took DH more than a half day to measure and meticulously clamp, screw together and create it.
Part 3 will follow with pictures.
DeeDee moments
* My daughter has never heard of or watched the movie, Titanic. But she and I have become like that young romantic couple from the movie - Rose and Jack ( the characters played by Kate Winslet and Leonardo Dicaprio), in that, she seems to follow the 'you jump, I jump' philosophy. This pertains among a few other things, to sleep. She sleeps when I sleep. Rather, in the effort to make her sleep which easily takes about 45 minutes I end up falling asleep myself. And in the mornings, no matter how sound asleep she is, the moment I am up, she is up. I have tried several ways to have her sleep longer. I pad on both sides with pillows and wake up as gingerly and sneakily as possible - doesn't work. She has the intuition of an animal that senses a predator from a few miles away.
* She likes to watch Tom and Jerry. I sometimes worry if she's watching too much violence, even if it's only in animation and even if it's never too final. After a severe blow from a heavy skillet that flattens the whole head, the animal will stretch his head up and slap his sides out to recover his face sans any sign of the assault. She explains to me on our ride to day care, " Jerry is the mouse and the cat's name is Toman"
* She's so dizzy with excitement about her birthday that has already passed a few days ago. To a room full of guests we had over last weekend, she comes and announces - Hey everybody, let's sing happy birthday to me - and actually starts to sing. We all joined in. It's all easy, there's no ego, no disappointment, no gap between expectations and actualizations in a child's life.
* She combs her dad's hair and goes, "Wow dad, you are such a cute pincess"
* When she exclaims, "Amma , I love you!", I usually ask her 'how much?'. The other day, she replied,
"fourteen" ; I said " No, I want more!", to which she shot back, " Okay, eleven-teen". I love that number, in my mind that's a very very big number.
* She likes to watch Tom and Jerry. I sometimes worry if she's watching too much violence, even if it's only in animation and even if it's never too final. After a severe blow from a heavy skillet that flattens the whole head, the animal will stretch his head up and slap his sides out to recover his face sans any sign of the assault. She explains to me on our ride to day care, " Jerry is the mouse and the cat's name is Toman"
* She's so dizzy with excitement about her birthday that has already passed a few days ago. To a room full of guests we had over last weekend, she comes and announces - Hey everybody, let's sing happy birthday to me - and actually starts to sing. We all joined in. It's all easy, there's no ego, no disappointment, no gap between expectations and actualizations in a child's life.
* She combs her dad's hair and goes, "Wow dad, you are such a cute pincess"
* When she exclaims, "Amma , I love you!", I usually ask her 'how much?'. The other day, she replied,
"fourteen" ; I said " No, I want more!", to which she shot back, " Okay, eleven-teen". I love that number, in my mind that's a very very big number.
Next time, on time?
I am conciously making an effort at being on time. But, at the risk of sounding unscientific, it seems like certain things aren't meant to be!
A few anamolous occurrences of the past few weeks -
I plan well in advance and get DD and myself ready well before time. I put an enthusiastic, profusely babbling toddler in her car seat and get into the driver's seat thinking I am going to be on time and boom - unexpectedly she throws up - clean up time - 20 minutes.
I had a training at work couple of weeks ago for which I had to be in at work quite early, after dropping DD off at day care. I requested her dad to drop her off, who always has something more important, more critical and very urgent regardless of my crises. I conceded and started well in time to factor that in. I get pulled over and am cited for a speeding violation. I was doing 40 in a 30 speed limit zone- it's a busy street and I was going at average speed of the traffic around me. But hey, I was chosen for the lucky prize. I was so aghast I rattled off a big speech to the traffic cop. Never knew I had it in me. In this country, I know I won't be beheaded for speaking my mind. As long as one remains within the boundaries of decency and respect, you can vent your frustration even to someone in a position of authority. Of course certain situations don't render themselves to this exercise.
What really rankled me was not so much that he actually gave me the ticket, but that he was so stubborn and inconsiderate of my explanation of the situation. I asked him how come they ( police) are never around when reckless drivers are making dangerous, unannounced turns and lane changes, when people are zooming at 80 in a 40 zone, when left turn signals are mistaken for a through light - I almost had a collision with a moron who did that when I was making my rightful left turn. I told him what happened that day was an exception and that he should please let me go with a warning, I am usually a very conscientious driver, I don't even use expletives or obscene gestures at such offenders. How many times do we absorb the mistakes of someone else on the road just to avoid something untoward from happenning? In the end, I told him " Hey it's the month end , you have to reach your target number of tickets, isn't it? Next time, try catching the real culprits and not penalizing marginal offenders who are right 99% of the time." He replied " It's not like that ma'am". I drove off thinking 'yeah right!' - late by 25 minutes.
Yesterday, yet again, got myself and DD ready to be on time for a meeting. Strapped her in her car seat , strapped myself into the driver's seat , put the key in its hole and turned to realize battery was dead long ago. No, it was not a slip on my part - no doors were shut improperly, no lights were left on. The battery of my 4.5 yr old car had led an eventful life, reached a ripe old age and died of natural causes the morning I wanted to get to work a little before a status meeting. This fact was given to me by the AAA vehicle assistance person who I thought could jump start my car in 10 minutes. So, when it was made clear to me that the old battery would not be able to hold charge, that even if it could be jump started now, it'd die again whenever I'd turn off the engine and leave it for a few minutes, the decision was made to replace the battery. After the necessary procedure, upon his direction to try starting my car again, I turned the ignition on and the sound of my car whirring to life was the best audio I could have enjoyed , at that time. Paid $140 for the new battery, signed in a couple of forms and also volunteered to the gentleman that I'll gladly answer any survey about this service. As annoying and avoidable as they seem, I sometimes take these surveys and give the concerned person the best score possible, if I am pleased with the service. If it has been less than desirable or just bad, I don't answer the survey at all. It may mean nothing to us, but probably for them customer feedback can go a long way in either direction. I reconciled with this setback, and got to work 40 minutes after the said meeting was supposed to start.
Why should I make any effort to be on time? Like a lecturer from P.U. days would exclaim - You are too early for the next class!
A few anamolous occurrences of the past few weeks -
I plan well in advance and get DD and myself ready well before time. I put an enthusiastic, profusely babbling toddler in her car seat and get into the driver's seat thinking I am going to be on time and boom - unexpectedly she throws up - clean up time - 20 minutes.
I had a training at work couple of weeks ago for which I had to be in at work quite early, after dropping DD off at day care. I requested her dad to drop her off, who always has something more important, more critical and very urgent regardless of my crises. I conceded and started well in time to factor that in. I get pulled over and am cited for a speeding violation. I was doing 40 in a 30 speed limit zone- it's a busy street and I was going at average speed of the traffic around me. But hey, I was chosen for the lucky prize. I was so aghast I rattled off a big speech to the traffic cop. Never knew I had it in me. In this country, I know I won't be beheaded for speaking my mind. As long as one remains within the boundaries of decency and respect, you can vent your frustration even to someone in a position of authority. Of course certain situations don't render themselves to this exercise.
What really rankled me was not so much that he actually gave me the ticket, but that he was so stubborn and inconsiderate of my explanation of the situation. I asked him how come they ( police) are never around when reckless drivers are making dangerous, unannounced turns and lane changes, when people are zooming at 80 in a 40 zone, when left turn signals are mistaken for a through light - I almost had a collision with a moron who did that when I was making my rightful left turn. I told him what happened that day was an exception and that he should please let me go with a warning, I am usually a very conscientious driver, I don't even use expletives or obscene gestures at such offenders. How many times do we absorb the mistakes of someone else on the road just to avoid something untoward from happenning? In the end, I told him " Hey it's the month end , you have to reach your target number of tickets, isn't it? Next time, try catching the real culprits and not penalizing marginal offenders who are right 99% of the time." He replied " It's not like that ma'am". I drove off thinking 'yeah right!' - late by 25 minutes.
Yesterday, yet again, got myself and DD ready to be on time for a meeting. Strapped her in her car seat , strapped myself into the driver's seat , put the key in its hole and turned to realize battery was dead long ago. No, it was not a slip on my part - no doors were shut improperly, no lights were left on. The battery of my 4.5 yr old car had led an eventful life, reached a ripe old age and died of natural causes the morning I wanted to get to work a little before a status meeting. This fact was given to me by the AAA vehicle assistance person who I thought could jump start my car in 10 minutes. So, when it was made clear to me that the old battery would not be able to hold charge, that even if it could be jump started now, it'd die again whenever I'd turn off the engine and leave it for a few minutes, the decision was made to replace the battery. After the necessary procedure, upon his direction to try starting my car again, I turned the ignition on and the sound of my car whirring to life was the best audio I could have enjoyed , at that time. Paid $140 for the new battery, signed in a couple of forms and also volunteered to the gentleman that I'll gladly answer any survey about this service. As annoying and avoidable as they seem, I sometimes take these surveys and give the concerned person the best score possible, if I am pleased with the service. If it has been less than desirable or just bad, I don't answer the survey at all. It may mean nothing to us, but probably for them customer feedback can go a long way in either direction. I reconciled with this setback, and got to work 40 minutes after the said meeting was supposed to start.
Why should I make any effort to be on time? Like a lecturer from P.U. days would exclaim - You are too early for the next class!
Golu galatta - part 1
Navarathri! Every time I visited people's houses during this festival, I drooled over their elaborate golu - the tiered arrangement of dolls - deities, villagers, animals. I always wished to have one in my house but didn't have the space or the dolls to pull through this feat.
After a few years of just visiting and wishing, I moved into a bigger house. Space was no longer an issue. Visiting India and buying a large number of dolls and bringing them back was a daunting task. It has proved to be more collosal than 'mere daunting'. I visit India once in 2 or 3 years. It could be any time of the yeear and not necessarily during this festival. The dolls are made and sold primarily during the weeks leading up to and a couple of weeks after this festival. Chennai ( Madras) is where one can get a good variety and a decent bargain.
So, last year a month before the actual festival I started to contact my relatives in Bangalore and Chennai to request them to procure some dolls for me. My cousin, UK and her mother-in-law came to my rescue. After receiving a postitive response from UK via email, I asked her to buy a few sets for me. I was starting from scratch and everything was welcome. UK's mil, aunty L was so wonderful and accomodating, my first golu this year is really possible almost entirely because of her. UK and Mrs.L went around Mylapore's shopping area, which is , at the said time of the year, said to be teeming with doll sellers with many different eye catchy varieties of dolls - dasavatharam ( the ten incarnations of Lord Vishnu), Ashta Laskshmi ( Eight different forms of Goddess Lakshmi), Rama Pattabhishekam ( Coronation ceremony of Lord Ram), Krishna with gopikas etc are some standard fare that have been around for generations. New themes and concepts are introduced each year. The dolls are not just of deities, there are elaborate themes like harvest festival - Pongal, farmer's market, the temple set depicting a meticuloulsy made gopuram( temple tower) with the street outside showing flower sellers, coconut vendors, auto rickshaws and so on. And then there's always Lord Ganesh who can be morphed into anything/anyone stylish and cute in keeping with the biggest news at that time. From cricketer to singer , dancing Ganesha to Yoga ganesha , he lends himself to any expression and most of us don't mind. Ganesha is as much fun as he is powerful.
Traditionally the dolls are made of clay and then painted over. The clay dolls usually have less than perfect facial features, sometimes they can be plain gross with eyes at different levels and an arm shorter than another. So, it requires very careful examination of each piece before one buys them. These days paper mache' dolls abound, they look a lot more beautiful due to very clear features and well defined brush strokes. On the flip side they don't last for generations like the clay ones. Since these dolls are in storage for prolonged periods, other than their 9 days of glory, the paper ones tend to deteriorate in a couple of years. These nuggets of wisdom came from Mrs.L too. For these two reasons, I picked the clay ones.
On the first day UK and Mrs. L went on a sort of scouting mission, checking for inventory , prices and a general reconnaisance tour. The next day, Mrs. L cleared some shelf space in her house for these dolls and then they went and actually purchased many different sets. They stored these different boxes for 3 months until I could pay a visit to their place. We had a fantastic 2 days with their whole family - they are really really nice people and it instantly felt like I had known them all along. Before I could leave, Mrs.L patiently and painstakingly opened the boxes for me, resorted the idols so I could carry them on train from Chennai to Bangalore. The unpacking and repacking took a lot of time and effort . Also we had to clear up a lot of hay and shredded paper that is used to cushion these dolls while packing. I thanked Mrs.L many times over, but any amount is less. Hardly anybody would do what she did for me. Until the very end when each single box went into the cars taking us to the train station, she watched over and ensured the nylon strings with which the boxes were secured, were alright.
After a few years of just visiting and wishing, I moved into a bigger house. Space was no longer an issue. Visiting India and buying a large number of dolls and bringing them back was a daunting task. It has proved to be more collosal than 'mere daunting'. I visit India once in 2 or 3 years. It could be any time of the yeear and not necessarily during this festival. The dolls are made and sold primarily during the weeks leading up to and a couple of weeks after this festival. Chennai ( Madras) is where one can get a good variety and a decent bargain.
So, last year a month before the actual festival I started to contact my relatives in Bangalore and Chennai to request them to procure some dolls for me. My cousin, UK and her mother-in-law came to my rescue. After receiving a postitive response from UK via email, I asked her to buy a few sets for me. I was starting from scratch and everything was welcome. UK's mil, aunty L was so wonderful and accomodating, my first golu this year is really possible almost entirely because of her. UK and Mrs.L went around Mylapore's shopping area, which is , at the said time of the year, said to be teeming with doll sellers with many different eye catchy varieties of dolls - dasavatharam ( the ten incarnations of Lord Vishnu), Ashta Laskshmi ( Eight different forms of Goddess Lakshmi), Rama Pattabhishekam ( Coronation ceremony of Lord Ram), Krishna with gopikas etc are some standard fare that have been around for generations. New themes and concepts are introduced each year. The dolls are not just of deities, there are elaborate themes like harvest festival - Pongal, farmer's market, the temple set depicting a meticuloulsy made gopuram( temple tower) with the street outside showing flower sellers, coconut vendors, auto rickshaws and so on. And then there's always Lord Ganesh who can be morphed into anything/anyone stylish and cute in keeping with the biggest news at that time. From cricketer to singer , dancing Ganesha to Yoga ganesha , he lends himself to any expression and most of us don't mind. Ganesha is as much fun as he is powerful.
Traditionally the dolls are made of clay and then painted over. The clay dolls usually have less than perfect facial features, sometimes they can be plain gross with eyes at different levels and an arm shorter than another. So, it requires very careful examination of each piece before one buys them. These days paper mache' dolls abound, they look a lot more beautiful due to very clear features and well defined brush strokes. On the flip side they don't last for generations like the clay ones. Since these dolls are in storage for prolonged periods, other than their 9 days of glory, the paper ones tend to deteriorate in a couple of years. These nuggets of wisdom came from Mrs.L too. For these two reasons, I picked the clay ones.
On the first day UK and Mrs. L went on a sort of scouting mission, checking for inventory , prices and a general reconnaisance tour. The next day, Mrs. L cleared some shelf space in her house for these dolls and then they went and actually purchased many different sets. They stored these different boxes for 3 months until I could pay a visit to their place. We had a fantastic 2 days with their whole family - they are really really nice people and it instantly felt like I had known them all along. Before I could leave, Mrs.L patiently and painstakingly opened the boxes for me, resorted the idols so I could carry them on train from Chennai to Bangalore. The unpacking and repacking took a lot of time and effort . Also we had to clear up a lot of hay and shredded paper that is used to cushion these dolls while packing. I thanked Mrs.L many times over, but any amount is less. Hardly anybody would do what she did for me. Until the very end when each single box went into the cars taking us to the train station, she watched over and ensured the nylon strings with which the boxes were secured, were alright.
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