Saturday, October 29, 2011
Blast from the past
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
2302 Sagamore Hills Drive
Yup, I'm living in my Grandmother's basement.
But it isn't all bad. I spend each afternoon and evening at my parents' house, cooking and catching up with my mother's illness. My parents are willing guinea pigs to my culinary experiments and compliment my cooking, which I haven't done this much of in years. And I think the last time I cooked on an electric range was when I stayed with my parents back in 2002. Catching up with my mom has been just as experimental but with less enjoyable results. I keep getting frustrated and pissed off which makes her frustrated and emotional and pissed off. She has started to compare me unfavorably to my father and I just keep repeating the mantra "She can't help it and it's not her fault." Slowly it's helping. Maybe.
But on the brighter side of things, I've found a house I'd love to buy. And I embarrassed my cousin by posting old pictures of her (and me) on facebook. I've loved going through the old family photos and reliving the me of yesteryear. So I'm doing fine. Just wanted to let you know.
But it isn't all bad. I spend each afternoon and evening at my parents' house, cooking and catching up with my mother's illness. My parents are willing guinea pigs to my culinary experiments and compliment my cooking, which I haven't done this much of in years. And I think the last time I cooked on an electric range was when I stayed with my parents back in 2002. Catching up with my mom has been just as experimental but with less enjoyable results. I keep getting frustrated and pissed off which makes her frustrated and emotional and pissed off. She has started to compare me unfavorably to my father and I just keep repeating the mantra "She can't help it and it's not her fault." Slowly it's helping. Maybe.
But on the brighter side of things, I've found a house I'd love to buy. And I embarrassed my cousin by posting old pictures of her (and me) on facebook. I've loved going through the old family photos and reliving the me of yesteryear. So I'm doing fine. Just wanted to let you know.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Navratri Indian Festival
Sorry, no pictures--I stuck out in the crowd enough anyway. Jess invited me to join her and two of her Indian friends, Praful and Rupal, for a dancing festival. Having no idea what this entailed, I said sure! So Saturday night we piled into Praful's car went down to Morrow, GA.
First of all, I had never been to Morrow before. Or known that it had a Hindu temple. Second of all, I don't go out after 10 (I have to already be out). And I can't remember the last time I got home after 2 am completely sober. Third, I was very surprised after all the multiculturalism of SF, my first Indian festival was to be in Georgia. Georgia, please accept my apologies for under-estimating you.
We arrive around 11 and park in a field about a half mile from the festivities. There are four of us, me and Jess dressed in American and Praful and Rupal dressed in traditional Indian robes. And everyone else is colorfully garbed in Indian dress. The women with arms linked in part to combat the cold, brightly colored and very sparkly. All with long hair braided and decorated. The men in more somber colors, also glittering, but a little more toned down. And so many people!
Praful was our tour guide for the evening. He explained that shoes were not allowed and took us to seven massive bookcases full of shoes. He tucked his and Jess's into a "safe spot" but Rupal and I had large handbags in which we tucked our sandals. We got our tickets and wove our way through the crowd into a gymnasium sized room stuffed with people. In the center sat a gazebo-like altar with concentric circles of people dancing around in a complex series of synchronized moves. The dancers were mostly women but several men contributed to the mix. Praful greeted several friends and then endeavored to teach us how to dance. He showed us the basic steps--step, step, back, circle, step, step, step, circle, or something like that-- and then lead us into the fray.
To say I was bad is an insult to bad dancers. Those women arriving without jackets or large handbags knew what they were doing. I'm making excuses but swinging a huge purse through the crowd was not easy. Nor were the dance steps that had all the turns done with our backs to the direction we were moving. And with our backs to our dance instructor. Jess was getting the hang of it but I just had too much baggage and not enough coordination.
Fortunately, that was about the same time that the break started. We ducked out into the cool air for some water--no alcohol to Jess and mys disappointment. I kept ogling all the Indian finery and noted a few other "Western" faces, but not many. And I was one of the taller people there so I could see over everyone's heads which was fantastic. Jess and I kept asking questions of Praful, discovering more of what kind of festival we were attending. Turns out our understanding of festival (food, drink, music, artist stalls, etc) and the Navratri Indian Festival (dancing, prayer, family, community) were not in mesh. The break was actually 30 minutes of prayer and devotion. We ate our share of the offering (sweet bread and fruits) to the gods and clapped along with the chanters but understood very little of it. And by the time the food stalls opened (12:30ish), we were sleepy and ready for home.
We stuck it out sitting on the floor with all the families and watching dancing commence again. There was a little girl, around 3 years old, who was fascinated by me. She would come up and touch my shoulder and then just stare curiously at me. I smiled, waved and said hi, and she shyly grinned at me. Her grandmother(?) would gently tug her back to the family group a few over from our small circle. And then a few minutes later she would stroll back and touch my shoulder again. Very cute.
We hiked back to the car a little after 1 am. Praful drove us back to Rupal's house and I drove Jess home. And then I drove home. I swear I hit every red light and they lasted forever! I finally fell into bed just after 2:30. Not what I expected but I did have a great time. Thanks Praful for broadening my horizons!!
First of all, I had never been to Morrow before. Or known that it had a Hindu temple. Second of all, I don't go out after 10 (I have to already be out). And I can't remember the last time I got home after 2 am completely sober. Third, I was very surprised after all the multiculturalism of SF, my first Indian festival was to be in Georgia. Georgia, please accept my apologies for under-estimating you.
We arrive around 11 and park in a field about a half mile from the festivities. There are four of us, me and Jess dressed in American and Praful and Rupal dressed in traditional Indian robes. And everyone else is colorfully garbed in Indian dress. The women with arms linked in part to combat the cold, brightly colored and very sparkly. All with long hair braided and decorated. The men in more somber colors, also glittering, but a little more toned down. And so many people!
Praful was our tour guide for the evening. He explained that shoes were not allowed and took us to seven massive bookcases full of shoes. He tucked his and Jess's into a "safe spot" but Rupal and I had large handbags in which we tucked our sandals. We got our tickets and wove our way through the crowd into a gymnasium sized room stuffed with people. In the center sat a gazebo-like altar with concentric circles of people dancing around in a complex series of synchronized moves. The dancers were mostly women but several men contributed to the mix. Praful greeted several friends and then endeavored to teach us how to dance. He showed us the basic steps--step, step, back, circle, step, step, step, circle, or something like that-- and then lead us into the fray.
To say I was bad is an insult to bad dancers. Those women arriving without jackets or large handbags knew what they were doing. I'm making excuses but swinging a huge purse through the crowd was not easy. Nor were the dance steps that had all the turns done with our backs to the direction we were moving. And with our backs to our dance instructor. Jess was getting the hang of it but I just had too much baggage and not enough coordination.
Fortunately, that was about the same time that the break started. We ducked out into the cool air for some water--no alcohol to Jess and mys disappointment. I kept ogling all the Indian finery and noted a few other "Western" faces, but not many. And I was one of the taller people there so I could see over everyone's heads which was fantastic. Jess and I kept asking questions of Praful, discovering more of what kind of festival we were attending. Turns out our understanding of festival (food, drink, music, artist stalls, etc) and the Navratri Indian Festival (dancing, prayer, family, community) were not in mesh. The break was actually 30 minutes of prayer and devotion. We ate our share of the offering (sweet bread and fruits) to the gods and clapped along with the chanters but understood very little of it. And by the time the food stalls opened (12:30ish), we were sleepy and ready for home.
We stuck it out sitting on the floor with all the families and watching dancing commence again. There was a little girl, around 3 years old, who was fascinated by me. She would come up and touch my shoulder and then just stare curiously at me. I smiled, waved and said hi, and she shyly grinned at me. Her grandmother(?) would gently tug her back to the family group a few over from our small circle. And then a few minutes later she would stroll back and touch my shoulder again. Very cute.
We hiked back to the car a little after 1 am. Praful drove us back to Rupal's house and I drove Jess home. And then I drove home. I swear I hit every red light and they lasted forever! I finally fell into bed just after 2:30. Not what I expected but I did have a great time. Thanks Praful for broadening my horizons!!
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