Mumbai on the Slow Local

4 Easy Grocery Switches To Save Your Health

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Sat, 16 Nov 2013 04:49:00 +0000

Finding out where to source healthy cooking ingredients is a challenge shared by expats and locals alike. While supermarkets are diversifying their range of healthy and organic product alternatives, white and refined varieties still dominate the shelves as well as home cooking habits, with the assumption that the healthier options will compromise on taste.

However, poor health choices are contributing to so many health issues in this country and its unnecessary because healthier alternatives are available. After being hospitalised for kidney infection in 2012, I found out that my immunity and overall health had hit a new low and discovered how easy it is to source healthier alternatives.

Here are my four switches in staple cooking ingredients that didn't compromise taste or cost but made a big difference to the health factor of my diet.

1. From Vegetable/Olive Oil to Rice Bran Oil: Rice Bran Oil is now a mainstream item on shelves. The oil is extracted from the inner husk of rice and is thought to improve blood cholesterol with its various antioxidants and vitamins. An added bonus is that it costs the same as vegetable oil, leaving no reason not to make the switch.

Think twice if you think Olive Oil is better still for your body. Some types of Olive Oil have a low smoke point, meaning that it breaks down when heated and becomes a host for all sorts of bad things. However, Rice Bran Oil has a very high smoke point, so I keep olive oil for salads and use rice bran oil for daily cooking.

2. From Plain Atta to 7 Grains Atta: Atta is the flour used in roti and other Indian bread dishes so if you are eating local cuisine you will be consuming a lot of it. Some brands of atta add grains to help meet our nutritional needs, which for me is worth the little extra you pay compared to no grains varieties. I use Pillsbury's 7 Natural Grains MultiGrain Atta, which is available at my local grocery store. It mixes in wheat, soy, oats, maise, ragi [millet], chana dal [chick pea] and barley into the flour without compromising the softness of rotis.

3. From White Sugar/Brown Sugar to Organic Sugar: Demerara sugar is a 'raw' sugar that is readily available in shops and is not to be confused with Brown Sugar. Brown Sugar is actually highly-refined white sugar which they then add molasses to. Instead, opt for the large-grained, crunchy demerara sugar. It has a natural caramel flavour that I personally preferred in my hot drinks and cooking, and is thought to retain some more of the natural 'impurities' that are processed out of white sugar.

Even better than Demera Sugar is Organic Sugar, however its only just becoming available on the shelves. 24 Mantra Organic is India's pioneer organic foods brand that is slowly making its way into local shops and hypermarkets alike. Their brand of organic sugar is slightly refined, yet as an organic alternative remains completely free from the negative health effects of any herbicides or pesticides that are usually used to grow cane sugar.

4. From White Rice to Brown Rice: While this is the most difficult switch of the four, brown rice has proven to be much more favorable for human consumption. It is higher in fibre, contains magnesium, iron, manganese and zinc and the only form of rice to contain vitamin E. A switch to brown rice means slower glucose metabolism, improved arterial health, and most importantly a reduced the risk of type 2 diabetes. While brown rice can be a little more difficult to source, it is worth considering a switch for those who prefer rice over roti for their daily meals.

What about Brown Bread? I have not recommended a switch from white to brown bread in India after hearing that the readily available loaves of brown bread are actually white bread with brown colouring! If you know of a healthy and easy-to-find bread loaf alternative please do share!

These four food switches to my diet have been so easy to make I don't miss my former choices at all. On the contrary, I get a kick out of looking after my body a little better. For less than 200 rupees extra on my monthly shopping bill I am ensuring a healthy alternative for my four staple food products and still eat delicious meals. It really is a no-brainer to make these switches.

What easy food switches have you made that you can recommend to others?

I'm so grateful for this journey and wish you all the very best with yours!

The Star Child

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Sat, 16 Mar 2013 09:19:00 +0000

Some may have noticed that I haven't posted anything in a while. I started a full-time job in February. It's an exciting job. I'm part of a team that gives advice and services to celebrities and corporates in their charity/CSR work. It's also a very challenging job. There is a lot of opportunity to grow, but new learning and adjustments has meant that I have not felt like writing at the end of a long day or week.

In fact, I've been low in general, with last week being a real killer. I pushed myself too far into exhaustion and realised that I had been neglected my happiness for no good reason.

This is the first weekend since returning to India where I put my foot down, cancelled all plans, and gave myself a break. And what do you know, here I am to share something special that I stumbled upon yesterday

Each time I return to visit Australia, I take a chunk of my old life back with me in my bags. This last trip, I grabbed all of my old journals. I hadn't felt the sort of exhaustion I felt this week since I was dealing with an eating disorder. I remembered how I used to love the feeling, because it was the only excuse I would give myself to have a break. I started flicking through old journals and came across the only poem I have ever written outside of school. I wrote it soon after recovery, after being moved by a beautiful photo of a dancing child in a photo magazine.

I'm no poet, but it is a beautiful thing when we allow ourselves the form of expression that resonates with us in the moment.

STAR CHILD

The little girl is dancing

floating whimsically

through the dusk's humble warmth

swaying in between

a spill of notes that

coil around her like fireflies

entering and lifting her spirit

allowing her mind to wander

and wonder. And take flight

A line of shadow puppet trees

filter the day's dying glow;

in the distance

a solitary thought

escapes past the trees,

and rests, gently, at the core

of her mind

After a noble pause

it travels into the depths of her soul;

filling each solitary waltz

with new life.

it rests on the nape of her neck;

takes one final bow, and shoots upwards

And thrusting her head back

She sees the stars.

I'm grateful for this journey and wish you all the very best with yours ox

The Green Panacea: Pudin Hara

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Mon, 18 Feb 2013 13:00:00 +0000

It is all too common in India that someone returns from the doctors with a bag-full of medicines for an upset stomach, effectively bombing their system with treatment overload. But I have joined the bandwagon of believers in a herbal panacea for a range of stomach issues - and I am delighted to share with you too.

The remedy is called Pudin Hara ['green mint'] and it is a herbal medicine that comes in the form of smooth, green pearls. Ask any local and they would have heard of it. And for good reasons. It truly is a god-send for rumbling, quezy, achey and bloated stomachs (an unfortunate part of life for many expats in India!) and has provided me almost instant relief from digestive discomfort.

The pearls are made from a blend of mint oils [pudina satva] with carminative and digestive properties and there are no side-effects from taking them. At first I was quite skeptical that a mild-sounding mix of oils could cure my violent cramps and bloating, which led me to suffer unnecessarily for several months before giving them a try. Soon after I take one, I feel a cooling effect in the stomach, a signal that they are beginning to work their magic. Within ten minutes, I am usually sitting upright and ready to do cartwheels around the room. And since discovering how wonderful they are I've been hearing similar stories from many local and expat friends who have also come to swear by them.

At less than 30 rp for 12 pearls, this amazing herbal remedy also happens to be super cheap so I highly recommend you try popping a couple of green pills before heading to the doctor for any stomach upsets.

Rags to Riches: Vaghri and Second-hand Clothes Exchange

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Mon, 11 Feb 2013 01:00:00 +0000

(Kamrul Hasan)

In Australia, second-hand commodity exchange brings to mind thrift-shops, garage sales and hard rubbish days. In India, there are hundreds of local recycling processes operating as part of a well-oiled commodity system. Items are reused within family networks, resold to the poor, remade for wealthier classes, and transformed into new exports.

I became interested in one such process after Ratnesh's mum asked us to send our unwanted clothes to her in Delhi, where she exchanges them for iron kitchen utensils through the bartanwales, 'those who deal with utensils'.

Bartanwales are a Gujurati group called the Vaghri, (or Bagri) and old clothes exchange is a profession for one group of Vaghris within one of their subgroups. That's not to say that the practice is small-scale. In Delhi alone, there are over fourty-thousand Waghri clothes exchangers. Their community in Raghubir Nagar is a thriving area with its own market, temple, panchayat [local council] and support networks. A decent number of Vaghri have even migrated into Mumbai, where they take the last name, Waghri. So next time you score a bunch of fanciful, second-hand clothes and fabrics at Chor Bazar, you can thank a Vaghri for it.

Where do you find the bartanwales to exchange with? You may be familiar with those long, lingering street calls that wake you up in the early hours of the morning? Take a listen next time. One of them may be saying, Kapre de dooooo... bartan le looooo! [Give clothes, take utensils!]. That's a vaghri roaming your area, waiting for you to shout back in response to their pheri call for door-to-door exchange.

And when those utensils start to break? You can always take them to the local waste-paper man who gladly pays to take them off your hands..and so the cycle continues..

I am grateful for this journey and wish you all the very best with yours xxoo

Dealing with Reverse Culture Shock

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Fri, 01 Feb 2013 09:22:00 +0000

"The fifth stage occurs when you return to your home country. You may find that things have changed (you'll also have changed) and that you feel like a foreigner in your own country. If you've been away for a long time and have become comfortable with the habits and customs of a new lifestyle, you may find that you no longer feel at ease in your homeland. Reverse culture shock can be difficult to deal with and some people find it impossible to re-adapt to their home country after living abroad for a number of years"

Reverse Culture Shock - Culture Wise India by Noel Gama

After reading up on reverse culture shock before leaving for India in 2010 I quite looked forward to the excitement of returning with clarity about my own personal values, separate from those ingrained in cultural norms.

Yet, after two years of living in India, I experienced reverse culture shock as a confusing misalignment with my culture - there was more cloudiness than clarity.

While browsing through second-hand shops towards the end of my trip, a heavy sadness settled in my stomach. My dream of creating a cute little cottage-style house, which my Aussie friends could do with ease, would be quite the feat in India, a country devoid of thrift shops or the same appreciation for old-style decor. Come lunchtime, I was sobbing over a $25 cafe lunch, quite literally over the menu sheet. My emotions seemed out-of-character because I knew I could have afforded the meal and would happily live without weekly thrift shop outings. Something else had been going on.

Mundane features stuck out for being unimaginable in India. An unguarded, hole-in-the-wall cash machine. A street of scantly-dressed summer lovers. A next-door neighbor walking her pet sheep - along a smooth, vacant footpath. Free connector bus services, train rides and even bottles of water for commuters to compensate for the temporary closing of a central railway station. Hard to believe!

Some things unsettled me like never before. My heart sank when dinner was served only for people to disappear into their respective rooms. Silence, once mandatory for a good night's sleep, was now a little unsettling and kept me up. And despite being surrounded by English, I felt as if people were speaking a different language. It took some days before I rediscovered old rhythms of communication.

Two years of living India has increased my tolerance for hectic environments - in India. In Australia though, it hurt to realise that my dreams of quieter, greener grass on the other side were being shattered. I was disturbed to see sour-sob fields, as I remembered them, now converted into over-crowded housing developments. I even found myself balancing out loud banter between friends with minimal talking, with necessary input being communicated using my 'soft voice'.

I also possessed a new skepticism towards the intentions and capabilities of society at large. Is man really capable of building a gigantic, fully-functioning, car-park at Adelaide Airport in only one year? Can it be true that random strangers exchange deep and meaningfuls on a public railway platform without any ulterior motives? And surely my friend is being extremely careless to walk into a shopping centre holding her cash-loaded purse loosely in-hand? While she said it was completely safe, I knew better than to make the life of a snatcher any easier and proceeded to stuff my wallet into the very depths of my bag.

On the streets a rainbow of accents, skin tones, and clothing stuck out like a sore thumb and I could no longer look past two attitudes towards non-Caucasian Australians that were indicated through the media and passing conversations. The first attitude was to ignore differences in skin tones, religion, or even accents, as if stating the obvious was an offence in itself unless accompanied by a positive remark. This hyper-sensitivity seemed to over-compensate for those who decided to hold one group of people responsible for all of the trends they found undesireable in Australia.

One of the hardest aspects of reverse culture shock (as mentioned by Vagabondish ) is that people 'back home' don't get it. A happy moment was when someone tried to relate to what I might be feeling, "its like the silence and serenity of Australia becomes eery and uncomfortable" - Bingo! Exactly! But for the most part, I was comparing my experience to a context that no one else understood. I tried not to share my comparisons unless they were somewhat relatable, but this proved difficult because I could no longer relate to 'Australia' like I used to. A sense of loneliness in my own confusion about my homeland was what ultimately brought me to tears.

Some words of advice for others who are preparing for a trip to your home (or former home) country:

Reading up on reverse culture shock will not prevent it. People experience reverse culture shock differently and at a different time. You cannot imagine ahead of time which circumstances will shock you so there is no use trying to reason your way out of experiencing it. Expect to be surprised at how your perspective has changed, and accept any emotions that arise out of everyday experiences.
Accept the unexpected. It is natural to return with an idea about your relationships and lifestyle based on how things were when you left. However, your circumstances and the circumstances of loved ones has changed. My daily mantra was accept the unexpected and it did help me on several occasions, where relationships felt different, where my opinions differed from the majority, or where I no longer tolerated behaviors that I once ignored. Change is natural and healthy.
Connect with others who can relate: Whether it be speaking to friends within an expat community or talking things through with someone from the other culture, talking through the experience can help to ease the confusion and loneliness associated with reverse culture shock.
Its not all bad. There are positive shocks too! Despite reverse culture shock, my trip was full of precious times with loved ones. I had lots of fun noticing the peculiarities of my own culture and my own head-wobbling habit. And while its true that I felt confused at times, I guess I did find some clarity on other occasions. Being betwixt and between two cultures meant that I was faced with a conscious choice to do things like an "Australian", or an "Indian", which sometimes helped to act according to my own set of values.

I am grateful for this journey and wish you all the very best with yours xxoo

Henna and Mehndi Explained

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Mon, 28 Jan 2013 06:27:00 +0000

'Henna' is something that is commonly associated with Indian culture so it is ironic that I have received henna body art three times in Australia but not once in India!

My dear friend Brighde is a professional artist who has built a name for her henna body art designs in Adelaide, where she is called for everything from weddings to 21sts and Bollywood-themed functions. She has even observed a growing trend for henna baby bumps and henna hens nights over the last year.

Brighde suggested a henna session for our catch up while I was in Australia. After noticing so many intricate patterns adorning the hands and feet of Indian women, I was very excited and curious to hear what friends in India might think of her chosen design and positioning across my upper back.

I even attempted my own design around Brighde's ankle..

My first try at Henna

There is more to henna-based artwork than pretty patterns at Indian weddings. Let me share with you six lesser-known facts about henna that you may not know and might want to know before getting it done:

It is called Mehndi, not Henna. Henna is popularly used with reference to the temporary body artwork that adorns women's bodies but the word actually refers to any dye preparation deriving from the henna tree. Mehndi is the correct word to describe the process and product of decorating the skin with henna paste patterns. In India, henna has been used for mehndi, folk medicine and hair dying for thousands of years.

Mehndi is not just a desi or Hindu thing. While it is commonly believed that mehndi originated in ancient India as a ceremonial art form, the Henna Sourcebook places its origins in Africa between 7500-3500 BC and Ancient Egyptians were staining the fingers and toes of Pharaohs prior to mummification. Today, Mehndi is a part of religious and cultural traditions of love, luck and fertility around the globe. Bridal Mehndi is performed by Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Christians, Jews, Roma and Zoroastrians throughout India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, South Asia, Indonesia, Kuwait, UAE and North Africa. A Middle-Eastern style consists of large, floral patterns, finer-lined floral and paisley patterns signify Indian and Pakistani patterns and Southern Asian styles are somewhere in-between. North African designs stand out for bold and sharp, geometrical designs.

At Indian weddings, the grooms initials will be hidden within a bride's mehndi for him to find on the wedding night.

Black henna is dangerous - If you want a more permanent-looking, black design, get a permanent tattoo. Do NOT go for black mehndi . Mehndi is brown and temporary for a reason. Lawsone is the red-orange dye molecule naturally found in henna leaves, which has the ability to stain kerotine, the protein in our hair and nails, as well as deter fungal infections. Some henna artists cash in on the market for a darker paste by using black henna, a paste containing a nasty chemical called paraphenylenediamine (PPD), which is toxic and has left many tourist with a horrible, permanent chemical skin burn. Check the colour and odour before agreeing to get mehndi done. Black henna is jet black and odourless. Natural henna is dark brown with an 'organic', spinach-like smell.

Black henna gone wrong

Brown henna is cooling. Brown henna is made from natural ingredients including sugar, lemon juice, tea, essential oils and is not at all harmful. In fact, applying henna to the soles of a person's feet can create a cooling effect and has also been used to relieve headaches, making it a common practice among India's desert populations to cool down their body temperatures.

Camel Henna at the Jaisalmer Desert Festival

A good henna recipe is guarded. "Asking a woman for her henna recipe is like asking a woman for her age." If you want to try your luck doing mehndi , don't expect to get a straight answer on the henna paste recipe. Perfecting henna paste for optimum colour, consistency and longevity is an ongoing process for artists and winning combinations are a well-guarded secret.

Henna is dispensed through tubes that can be prepared and stored in the freezer for several months

The life and stain varies between body parts. A henna stain darkens over the first 48 hours as the skin's kerotin proteins come in contact with the henna mixture. After that, the life of mehndi depends on its positioning on the body: 10-12 days for shoulders, upper back, upper arm and top of hands, 15 days for knuckles, fingers and ankles, and 4-6 weeks on the palms and feet, where henna molecules penetrate deeper into the skin, allowing stains to remain for the longest amount of time.

Happy Henna Hunting!

Recipe: Easy Arhar Dal

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Fri, 11 Jan 2013 23:25:00 +0000

My favourite dal recipe for its taste and simplicity. Arhar/toovar (yellow split pea) dal is commonly used in Gujurati cooking and produces a smooth, gelatinous consistency once cooked. Combining arhar dal with ghee and dash of red chilli makes for a creamy, comforting dish.

Easy Arhar Dal

Arhar Dal [yellow lentils], 4 handfuls, soaked 3 hours

Pani [water]

1/2 tsp Haldi [turmeric]

1 tbspn ghee

1/2 tsp lal mirch [red chilli powder]

Red Chillis {optional)

Namak [salt], to taste

Add same parts dal and water with turmeric and salt to a pressure cooker or saucepan. Cook covered, until dal is soft through (test by pressing some against the pot with a spoon). Place ghee in a metal soup spoon and melt over a raw flame. Once hot, add red chilli powder directly to the ghee and continue to heat for approx. 10 seconds. Add the ghee mixture to the dal and stir through. Garma garam paroso! [Serve hot].. and enjoy!

Recipe Index

What I Got Through Australian Customs

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Thu, 10 Jan 2013 08:19:00 +0000

Australian Customs is notorious for confiscating goods that are allowed in most other countries so I thought it might be of interest for others to share what made it through from India.

Customs suggest some types of goods that may be confiscated and therefore need to be declared for inspection: including illegal weapons, medicines, herbs & plants, foods, soils. I had several items on that list and was pleasantly surprised with what made it through

What I declared:

· One tube of Golecha Henna

· Haldi [turmeric] powder (packaged)

· 100g mustard seeds

· Elaichi [cardamom]

· dal chini [cinnamon]

· 500g organic jaggery

· Herbal Face Pack

· 2 x Whole Brown Flattened Rice packets

· 500g packaged Nigliri Tea

· Methi Khakhra (Packaged crispy roti)

· Butterscotch finger biscuits

· 600ml pineapple beverage

There was only one prohibited item - dal chini [cinnamon]. The officer noticed that an unidentified leaf had made it into the packet but this was not the reason for confiscation. Anything with a botanical name is not allowed, and cinnamon apparently has a botanical name.

I was quite surprised, given that there were some seeds in the mix and I have had seeds confiscated in previous years. As the customs officer said, rules have relaxed recently.

It would be interesting to hear what others have got through customs recently. I wonder whether I could have gotten that ghee through after all.

My 30+ Hour Flight to Australia

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Fri, 04 Jan 2013 00:30:00 +0000

There wasn't much more English at the airport itself

I have arrived in Melbourne after a 30+ hour flight with China Eastern Airlines, including a 15-hour stopover in Shanghai PuDong airport. Not too much pointed to a comfortable journey: a New Years day flight (after 4-hours sleep), poor reviews for both airline and airport, and a Shanghai PuDong website with no English site translation (not even google translate). I had no idea whether internet was available or a place to find some rest, which are my usually activities in long transits, and one reviewer's quote of AU$60 for two cups of tea and a juice at the airport made me cross my fingers that my carry-on snacks would make it through China's apparently over-the-top security processes.

Overall, it wasn't that bad. There was surprisingly no queue at the Delhi check-in counter, rather than rude and grumpy customs officer was happy yet hungover. He even requested to add me on Facebook upon hearing my broken Hindi and word of my return next year (he had all required details in-front of him!). The cleaning staff even wished us all a happy 2013. I was equally surprised in-flight, after reading complaints about China Eastern planes and service. I scored a spacious, exit-row seat in a new aircraft and got all of the usual services that top air carriers provide (warm face towel, drink and good food), and while there was no entertainment for the 5-hour flight, there were shared screens for the longer 9.5-hour leg to Melbourne. I even somehow managed 6 hours sleep, a new personal record.

Shanghai airport is unusual and largely boring. I ended up with two stamps from immigration in the passport, despite not leaving the airport. It is possible that I went through the wrong section because I ended up in a tiny transit lounge, where I was told to wait for my 15-hour stay. Soon enough an older, Hindi-speaking Indian lady decided to adopt me and persuaded me out of my transit-lounge slumber and guided me into the main gate area with her. The free water took some time to figure out but I got there (even though they only provided warm or hot water) and I even found a few free internet hubs to waste time on (no Facebook in China, though). The worst part was the temperature: air conditioner was up so high that I was almost shivering with two blankets, a jacket, 2 scarves and socks for mittens.

Come time to go through customs in Melbourne and I was pleasantly surprised with what they let me get through customs, and now here I am, ready to enjoy a few weeks back with family and friends.

Hello Australia, its good to be back.

Lovin' my Oven

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Mon, 31 Dec 2012 16:00:00 +0000

It's the little things. And this little things is a big deal..

Banana Date Bread - First Baking session in two years and first ever successful bread

I have an oven!

You don't know what you've got until its gone and for me the oven was gone for two whole years. It got to the stage that I was salivating a little too much over eating baked potato at restaurants.

Indian kitchens are not equip with ovens because Indian meals are prepared either on a stove top or in a tandoori oven. A built-in, gas or electric oven always features in Australian kitchens. Aussies use ovens for roasts, pasta bakes, pies, cakes and biscuits and usage peaks during Christmas season for making the roast dinner, gingerbread men and a pudding (hence my quest to find oven-less Christmas recipes this year).

We were planning on buying an oven next year but then a few days before Christmas our friends kindly passed on their portable oven to us as they had upgraded to a bigger one! I got over-excited and pumped out three cakes, two roasts and two pasta bakes in the space of 48 hours. Admittedly, that was slight overkill. But I did find out that this beauty bakes more evenly than most built-in varieties.

Quite proud of my first attempt

Owning an oven in Mumbai is exciting for another reason. I will never make Indian curries as good as Ratnesh's family but the oven is my familiar territory. Perhaps I finally have some way of giving to them something that I make with my own hands and that they will enjoy. For this reason and with a new appreciation for the wonder of ovens, I might just be baking more throughout 2013 than I ever would living in Australia.

Buon Appetite!

My Indian Family Nightmare (and Finding Reality!)

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Sun, 30 Dec 2012 09:47:00 +0000

What I experienced:

We arrive at New Delhi Station after a sleepless overnight train-ride. Ratnesh's mum and sister come to take us home. Touch both feet and then my heart. Ratnesh suggested I greet his mum by doing this last time and he reminded me again. I really want to but it feels so out-of-character that I once again opt for a shy "hello" and smile.

Typical disrespectful white girl!

I'm sure they're thinking it even if they aren't saying it.

A 20-minute car ride home follows full of Hindi chatter that I cannot understand. Surely they are wondering why I haven't learnt more Hindi over the last year. I quietly beat myself up for my lack of willpower. It is really unacceptable, I have no explanation.

We park outside their home and I try to pile all of our luggage on me to take upstairs to make up for my poor greeting performance but Ratnesh doesn't let me. So I decide to make everyone a chai, which is more a 'woman's' job. But I can't figure out how to light their stove and don't know where the adrak [ginger] is. Rather than apply my shameful Hindi skills to ask someone I opt to keep on searching and eventually produce four cups of tea.

God, I can't even remember how to formally address his mum and sister, how careless of me. So I just pass them all their cups with a smile. No thank you's from them, but I am used to this by now. Still, I still assume that there is something wrong with the drink, perhaps not enough sugar. At least I tried.

I join them all snuggled up on the bed while they chatter some more between themselves. I pretend not to care but really wish I could join in on the conversation and scold myself again for my lack of Hindi skills. My ears prick up upon hearing my name and mention of Christmas. Ratnesh kindly translates.

"Mum was saying that you have put on weight over Christmas"

"Haaa!" [yees!] she says with a big smile.

Before I have time to react, the doorbell rings. I know the drill after my first visit and dive under the quilt on their bed in case a family member is at the door. After my poor performance this morning, the last thing they need is for me to cause family controversy over why a white girl is hanging around.

Lunch time and Ratnesh's mum brings out some chole puri. I say thank you as she passes me my plate.

"Mum says that her service is 'just an advertisement', soon enough you will be the one doing this for her"

They laugh. I laugh. But oh god. How much truth lies behind these jokes? What do they really expect? Waiting on their every need. I start to imagine me hunched over in a sari, washing their feet and answering their every call while Ratnesh, entertains himself with video games, his god-given right as their only son.

I feel exhausted and allow myself to lie down. Am I being let off lightly? I'm not even engaged to Ratnesh, so obviously they don't expect much of me at the moment. Come a few years and perhaps they will be expecting me to be washing clothes, tidying up the house and preparing dinner each afternoon.

I roll over for an hour's nap. Ten minutes later I hear the TV turn on. I have never been able to sleep with too much noise around me, but I have seen them all do it with ease. Another thing for me to 'work on', I guess..

******************************************************************************

This was my experience of yesterday, from my doomsday perspective after arriving to stay with Ratnesh's family for my second time. I am scared of not being the perfect addition to Ratnesh's family. Part of me believes in a cruel fate: They will morph into 'evil Indian in-laws' sooner or later and I will become the unacceptable foreigner. Then I will have to make the dreaded choice: go back to Australia or stay and fail to meet their expectations in misery for the rest of my life.

Where in god's name did these ideas come from? Ratnesh's family have shown me an overwhelming amount of love and acceptance. Sure, they expect me to help with cooking and cleaning, like any other family member, but that is reasonable and I expect that of myself anyway. And sure, open comments on weight fluctuations catch me off-guard. But actually, Ratnesh's mum was saying it as a compliment, I was looking more 'healthy' apparently, I cannot imagine them ever full-on harassing me about my looks. And sure, I find the idea of cooking for Ratnesh's family a little daunting because they are used to foods that I cannot cook well, but I would love to try out some continental cuisines for them, and they have shown a willingness to eat it.

Being scared of a doomsday future has limited my ability to relax and show Ratnesh's family my love and appreciation for them. I am being incredibly hard on myself. I can not expect to be a "perfect" daughter-in-law one day, nor do I want to if it means not being accepted and harassed for the rest of my life! But that is far from my present reality.

I have tried to talk to Ratnesh about family expectations. He gives vague guidelines but it is a lot to ask someone to know what parts of his own culture might differ from mine. It is scary to live in a different culture because human beings like predictability but I will be learning along the way. And I might not like what I come to see. But I may as well start basing the future on a clear picture of my present reality, rather than a distorted doomsday scenario. especially when my reality isn't all that scary after all.

*********************************************************************************
What Actually Happened:

We arrive at New Delhi Station after a largely sleepless train-ride. While we are only a 20-minute ride away from his home, Ratnesh's mum and sister offer to pick us up and I am thankful for not having to exert effort into finding a rickshaw, although Ratnesh would have probably done it for us. Soon enough they arrive and help us pack our bags in the car. We exchange hellos. Ratnesh's mum does not speak English and I have a very limited knowledge of Hindi at moment. There have been times when I have felt huge resistance to learning but at the moment I am enjoying the process.

The family talk throughout the ride home and his mum makes several efforts to include me despite our limited vocabularies. I just smile at her to try and show that I am happy to be here and she says that I need to learn Hindi so that we can communicate. I look forward to the day when our conversations consist of more than "Kaise Hai?.. Theek hu"

We arrive at the house and I consider bringing all of the luggage upstairs but Ratnesh gets to the big bag first. Once in the house, I consider heading straight to the kitchen to brew up a cup of tea for everyone but Ratnesh's mum directs me to the bedroom. It is cold and there is a very enticing quilt waiting for me. Soon enough a cup of tea is in my hand, followed by some home-made breakfast. I honestly feel grateful for the hospitality and kindness, despite being nervous about not helping her out. I get up to look for something, and upon returning hear them mentioning my name and something about Christmas.

Mum says you have put on some weight and that you look much healthier now. You must have been sucking Ratnesh's blood! [khun pee rahi ho], she laughs.

I didn't get the joke but felt a little confused about how to take the weight comment. I also knew from my time with her that it is highly unlikely that she means to offend me and didn't mind her making comments about my weight. Even so, an apocalyptic scenario of nasty in-laws trying to 'keep me in good shape' for their only son lingered in my head. I had gotten these idea from recent complaints by other expat women married to Indians about their circumstances, among other sources no doubt.

Before long the door-bell rings. I feel a little unsure and ask whether I should hide in the bedroom because I am aware that not all of the extended family know about me yet. For Ratnesh to date a Westerner might be cause for gossip that they would rather not deal with yet. They will tell everyone in due time but in any case it is mamma ji [uncle] at the door and he met me during Diwali.

"Namaste" I say with a smile, "Kya apse chai chahiye?" (yes, I said it like this)

I make him a cup of chai. I am used to making chai by now and don't feel as nervous as I used to about serving it up, which is quite a relief.

"mm chai achhi hai" [good chai] he says.

Come the afternoon and I make us all some more chai. There are no thank you's but I am pretty much used to that now and Ratnesh has explained what that is about already. It means that we are close enough to not have to say thank you for every small thing. Families help each other out, it is just what is done. I like this attitude and the closeness in Ratnesh's family and while I still entertain ideas that my chai is not suited to everyone's tastes, Ratnesh's mum says that she likes it and I think it tastes as good as always.

In the afternoon I spend a few hours trying to catch up from sleep but a combination of worry, bright lights and television noise keeps me awake for the most part.

Lunch time comes at around four-thirty and out pops some more food cooked by Ratnesh's mum. I take my plate.

This is just an advertisement', soon enough you will be the one doing this all for me! she jokes.

I don't know how much truth is in this and I become a little scared of my doomsday future scenario once again. They are smiling, but I later ask Ratnesh to explain what they will expect of me in the future, to which he says "just that you help out sometimes with the cooking and general tidying up as a family member". It seems reasonable but my inner-critic is not satisfied.

By now I am really feeling exhausted and allow myself to lie down again. There is talk of a trip to the markets, but I ask whether we can go tomorrow instead, to which there is no objection and they insist that I rest for the day.

I do just that. It is difficult for me to sleep when the time comes because I am not used to sharing a bed and do not snooze off before the lights and TV are turned off. But eventually I do manage a surprising amount of sleep, given my experience of the day.

Reflections on The Year Past

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Thu, 27 Dec 2012 06:12:00 +0000

2012

2012 has been a year of bubble-wrap, happiness and courage. I moved to Mumbai, met Ratnesh's family, started blogging, became a post-graduate, and scored a job for the New Year. Three-hundred-and-sixty-five days of small changes in lifestyle and attitude and I'm entering 2013 with openness to experience what this Maximum City had in store for us!

While I have loved living in Mumbai, my body has, unfortunately, not been as happy. Food poisoning came in April (I haven't eaten banana chips since) and then in July I was back in hospital with a bad kidney infection. Two bouts of scabies followed (I didn't know what it was either!) and my intestines proved to me regularly that they could tie knots better than I could with my hands. Interestingly enough, my face has been largely spot-free for the first time in many years!

Ratnesh & I in hospital with my Thali Hospital Food

The kidney infection was my body's big wake-up call that it was not happy. In fact, I had been suffering from fatigue for over a year and I had been ignoring it- everyone around me was coping just fine so I figured I should be able to as well. After the kidney infection, I began getting the type of sleep, water and food that was more agreeable to me. For the first time ever I also take 6 types of vitamins each day (and remember to take them!). Come to think of it, I have not experienced any weird health conditions for two months now - knock on wood!

India Overload of 2011!

The first half of the year saw me implementing measures so that India and I could stay friends. I never wanted to relive 2011's misery so my initial strategy was to block out potential threats that might burst my happiness bubble with Ratnesh. It did not work too well: I became a scaredy cat. I avoided taking a crowded local , speaking my point of view to locals, doing anything that might be 'wrong' around Ratnesh's family, being glared at in public. I blocked myself off from the opinions of others and information beyond what I felt necessary for my direct existence living with Ratnesh. I have watched less than ten Bollywood movies, hardly read the newspaper, and picked up only one book about India in the last two years, to avoid feeling overwhelmed by outside perspectives on all of India's confusing aspects.

I am now friends with the Mumbai Local!

I am grateful for this year of bubble-wrap. It has been one of the best years of my life in many ways. Though, come this September, I realised that walking tippie toed in India would not work well for long-term happiness. So I tried to open up to different shades of Mumbai and its people. I have been surprised by some of the things that I started to do. Like deciding to start a blog about my life in Mumbai (I had wanted to publically blog for years!). Like grabbing Maximum City off of the shelf (5 months after I bought it) and becoming immersed in descriptions of Mumbai's underworlds. Like showing interest in the daily headlines for the first time ever. And like randomly throwing in some Hindi phrases in my daily conversations with Ratnesh, after a long bout of resistance to learning Hindi.

My First Blog Post - Masala Chai Recipe

Allowing India to be India has also allowed me to be un-Indian. What a relief. Instead of worrying about what Ratnesh's family might expect from me as his girlfriend (which I did for the first half of the year), I channeled some energy into enjoying my time with them in recent trips to Nainital and India's beaches. Mind you I got very lucky that they are wonderful people who have been accepting of me from the beginning.

Most recently, as an un-Indian, I allowed myself to go crazy about Christmas: my favorite festival. I decorated to my hearts content and had a lot of fun teaching Ratnesh about "Christmas traditions" (which may or may not have been customised to my own taste). I initiated some festive cheer in a country where the vast majority do not celebrate Christmas - and it has probably been the most enjoyable Christmas season of my life.

Christmas Cheer with Diwali Lights

Reflecting back on the year past, I have no big realisation or a resolution for 2013. I am just extremely grateful for each and every person that I have met along the way and every experience that has taught me something new. I am grateful to have a life filled with love and opportunity and I am thankful for the chance to blog, through which I am finding the courage to speak from my heart. And I am genuinely excited to see what the New Year has in store!

I am grateful for this journey, and wishing you all the very best with yours for the New Year ahead.

Love Love Love

Elise xxoo

Expat's Christmas Recipe: Mulled Wine (Gluhwein)

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Mon, 24 Dec 2012 04:27:00 +0000

Merry Christmas Eve Everyone! If you do not get around to any baking or decorating this Christmas, make a couple glasses of this and you'll feel festive in no time. Mulled wine is the ultimate 'Christmas in a Glass' drink and also happens to be super easy to make. This is my favourite variation:

Ingredients

2 bottle of your favourite red wine (or the cheapest, it won't taste the same by the end!)

2 oranges

1 lime

200g brown sugar

10 cloves

1 cinamon stick

1/2 tsp nutmeg

1 vanilla pod/tsp vanilla essence

2 star anise

1-4 cups water (optional, to dilute the wine)

We used Madera.. Around 250rp..

Method:

Peel oranges and lime and add the peel, along with juice to a saucepan over low heat. Add sugar, cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg vanilla and enough red wine to cover the sugar.

Allow to simmer until the sugar has dissolved. Keep on a rolling boil until the mixture becomes a thick syrup.

Add star anise and the rest of the red wine and turn heat to low. Heat the wine for 5-10 minutes longer, making sure to mix in the syrup well and making sure that the wine does not boil (unless you would like to decrease the alcoholic contents)

Add water to dilute the wine (optional) and once the mixture is hot, ladel into glasses and serve warm.

This recipe adheres to Christmas project requirements for Expats in India

Recipe Index

Shanti! Beach Trip through Karwar, Palolem & Malvan

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Fri, 21 Dec 2012 09:18:00 +0000

Last month, it was the chilly mountain air in Nainital, this month a sunny road-trip with Ratnesh, his sister, brother-in-law and friends through shanti [tranquil] beaches in Karnataka, Goa & Maharashtra. Towards First Class - the slogan printed on our Neeta bus to Goa.They got it right in more ways than one. The pristine white beaches that we visited are on par with the Thai Islands of Ko Lipe, Adang, Rok Nok & Tarutao.

I sat and watched the sun set over the ocean four nights in a row, and gazed up at a night sky full of a million stars. For a week, my ear-drums were treated to the sounds of ocean wind, waves, seabirds, and chill-out tunes, rather than horns, shouting and festival music.

It was like medicine.

The photos do most of the talking..

Karwar, Karnataka

Karwar is a seaside town on the banks of the Kali River, just 15 kilometres from the Goa border. Our resort was a five-minute walk from this river beach...

and a short drive away from clean ocean waters..

Palolem Beach, South Goa

Around one-hour from Karwar, across the border in South Goa, lies a crescent-shaped, palm-tree lined Palolem Beach. This is now my favourite beach in Goa. An awesome balance of shanti, shopping, dining & entertainment. Unlike Karwar and Malvan, Palolem is a tourist hot-spot, both for foreigners and Indians, but the atmosphere was much more 'çhilled' than 'party' here as opposed to some North Goa beaches. You find people sleeping under the shade of palm trees, sun-baking in the sand, strolling at sunset and throwing the frisbees along a spacious shoreline, rather than negotiating through busy crowds, bargaining at seaside stalls and dancing to the thump of bar music.

Palolem Beach Shoreline at Lunch-Time

Us Looking Mong-faced in the Water

Chilling the Afternoon Away at a Seaside Restaurant. This is the Life..

Ratnesh & I Kayaking.

The Girls

Beautiful Sunset at Palolem Beach..

Tarkarli Beach, Malvan

Our last stop was Tarkarli Beach, in Maharashtra, although we were some 500 odd kilometres from Mumbai. Another pristine beach, there were only a handful of other people to be seen on the shoreline.

Me and Superman, with Sindhudurg Fort in the Background

The birds were all just chilling on the water. It looked pretty, and a little odd.

For those with an interest in underwater activities, this is your place. Snorkelling and scuba diving sessions are available for around 300rp and 1500rp respectively. It is said that on a clear day you can see the sea floor up to 20 metres down. I was only able to see the bottom for maybe 5-6 feet. Even so, the coral and fish life is well worth it for snorkeling We went out by boat to an unbleached reef near Sindhudurg Fort (lying just off the shore, dated 1664), and before we knew it, three hours had passed snorkeling around and soaking up the sea breeze. A few of us tried 'scuba-diving' - not the tank-type but with the aid of a very long tube to breath through while exploring the seabed..

Ratnesh & Shikha geared up for some scuba diving

Fish Fish Everywhere!

Got him!!

I guess that a big part of why these beaches remain so pristine clean is that they are less accessible for tourists (excluding Palolem Beach). We were lucky enough to travel in cars, which also meant that we slept in, ventured out, and moved on to a new location as and when we pleased. I've been back one day but my mind is already longing for another beach vacation! But for now, I will happily settle for that smoggy yet pretty urban sunset on my rooftop and a week of Christmas celebrations with friends in Mumbai.

In any case, the New Year is soon approaching, which means a long-awaited trip back Downunder for some shanti time, Aussie-style, with family and friends in Melbourne and Adelaide. Bring it on!

I'm grateful for this journey and wish you all the very best with yours xxoo

Begging for my Life: Sasha's Story of Begging in Delhi

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Sun, 16 Dec 2012 14:59:00 +0000

There are plenty of views on begging among India's middle and upper class citizens (Ratnesh offers his view on when to give and refrain with beggars & why here).

But have you ever wondered what begging really involves and means to a beggar?

A drive to understand begging from the perspective of the beggars themselves led Sasha to write a well-researched, thought-provoking story on one day in the life of a female beggar, from her eyes.I am privileged to share it with you all today. While it can be tempting to apply easy explanations and stories to India's 'voiceless' beggars, I do hope that Sasha's story causes us to spare a thought for the bigger and tougher issues that are masked behind each face glaring at you from the car window.

Thanks so much, Sasha!!

I stand in the scorching Delhi sun as my husband adjusts my sari, once red, now dirty brown. The embroidery is faded and tattered and the jewels have been scratched dull from over-use. My daughter found the sari in the empty block across the way while she was looking for plastics that could be sold. It suits me well; it would have been a fine sari in its day.

My husband continues to arrange my sari to ensure the most dirty pieces are visible; pats me on the shoulder and then places his wallet into a tree branch above my head, out of my reach. I look at him, in his fine black shirt and clean, new dark red pants. I found a shiny piece of paper once with a man on it; he looked very much like my husband. It had words on it but I could not read them, as I am just one of hundreds of thousands of Indian women who have not received an education. Someone told me that the shiny piece of paper said "Calvin Klein". I do not know what that means.

My husband tells me to do well today, and then he turns to leave for work.

* * *

Leaving my daughter to scavenge through the rubbish, I walk across the paddock to a cow dung hut erected in the shade of a big house that is built on the adjoining block. The bricks of the big house have a pink veneer and it stands three storeys high. It casts a large shadow and during the high heat of the day the cluster of huts on the other side of the fence are well shaded.

I reach the hut and lift the tarp that acts as a door.

"Namaste", I say to the woman inside, who looks sickly and pale with a new born child suckling her withered bare breast. She roughly pulls the child away, who emits a low mewling, too weak to muster a louder noise. Reaching inside the folds of my sari, I produce a couple of dull coins.

"500 rupee," she says.

I make a mock surprised noise. "500 rupee? 50 rupee."

"200."

"50."

"100."

"100 rupee," I agree, and jingle the coins into her outstretched hand.

We go through the same routine every day. If it looks like I have had a good day previously, the next she will raise her price. It is difficult to haggle too much with her; she is experienced, she knows the going rates and she knows that I need her wares. Wrapping the child in a dirty rag, she hands it to me.

"Shukriya, thank you," I say and turn to leave.

***

It is high summer and not many white tourist gora are travelling in Delhi. Pudgy pale skin and sweaty limbs struggle to handle the heat of an Indian summer and clothes not made to allow the breeze flow through to let the heat escape. My choli blouse and draping sari are perfect for the sultry Indian summers. My belly is bare; the navel being source of life and the symbol for creativity, and my sandalled feet are cool on the hot, dusty Delhi streets. Silly foreigners.

Approaching me are two glistening foreigners, wilting behind their tour guide.

"Sir, sir, 5 rupee, sir" I say beseechingly to their pale faces, waving an empty milk bottle in their direction, baby tucked uncomfortably under my arm. They look startled, glance imploringly at their guide for direction, and then look away. The guide laughs, and says to me in Hindi, "Go away, you beggars are the best actors in India!" I snapped at him, "You don't know!". He continues to laugh and talk with his sweaty tourists as he guides them away from me. I consider following, but decide that I will pick my battles.

***

Beggars, housewives, prostitutes. Those who receive money for not undertaking an activity that the government constitutes as work are classified as non-workers. Begging is illegal, but for some we have little choice. We are hounded for being poor, and nothing more. In my world, women and children I know are assigned targets to achieve; how much money to make in a day. My agent is a little more lenient, thankfully, although he does take a particularly large percentage of what I have earned throughout the day. If a beggar is sacked by their agent, what good are they then? The agents offer protection. It is the children who I worry for, the children born into this way of life. I feel I have little choice, due to my sex, my religion, my caste. But the children who beg because they have seen it as the easy way to move through life; they are the ones whom I am sad for. The children who have been taken from their homes or orphaned and forced onto the streets, it is for them I weep.Up ahead of me I see a young boy knock on the car window of a shiny white van. The window rolls down a crack and he takes the opportunity to shove something through it. Here we have a small child who may be developing some business skills, rather than pleading for their rupee. This boy may have more of a chance to escape the street life.

Oh wait - here, here is a car approaching, slowing, slower, and it has stopped right near me. I exclaim sharply but quietly to the beggars near me; it is now my turn. I tap softly on the passenger side window with my fingernails. Click, click, click. I look at the baby in my arms and give it an unseen pinch on its skinny little thigh. It emits a plaintive mewl and I look back into the car. The car begins to pull away and I hasten to catch up with it. The lights have changed to red and I have missed my opportunity. I sharply smack the child across the head and scold it for not being endearing enough. Self righteous tourists in their wealthy cars, clothes and lives, I think to myself as they drive away.

***

My husband applied for a house for us a couple of months prior. We had a small stash of rupees, enough to prove we could live in a residential area, but we were denied. Do you know the reason? Because we are vegetarian. That was a round-about way of saying that we are polluted, we are beneath them, we are not fit to live in a house. Even our shadow is cursed. We did try. But we were discriminated against on the basis of religion and caste.

Castes. You even see the societal organisation of roles and responsibilities in nature. But only those who have heavily sinned in this life should return as ants, so why are we, who are so much more than ants, treated so? The Brahmins are our queen ants, the educators, the priests and teachers. We have our own soldier ants, the Kshatriva, defending the society. What do they defend anymore? Why are these walls still in place? Our business men, our Vaishya, our major worker ants, and our minor worker ants, our Shudra, our unskilled labourers. But ants do not have a class so lowly that they are rejected by everyone. Like me, there are over 160 million other Indians who do not fit into any of the castes. The Untouchables, ostracized by all and suffering prejudice and violence if they forget their place.

***

Delhi's orange sun disappears beyond the horizon, and it is now night time. I have returned the child to its mother; exhausted and hungry. The mosquitos serenade me while I sit inside the hut and prepare some rice for our dinner. I have a handful of coins beside me; it has not been a good day. The gora tourists are being told not to give to us, my agent says. We are not to be given to so that the begging ceases. The begging will never cease; there are too many of us. My agent says we must try even harder, look even sadder, and act more poor than I already am in order to make money.

The heat of the night pours into my cow dung and mud hut. The smell, once overwhelming, is something one becomes accustomed to. Outside I can hear the stray dogs barking to each other, and the occasional low bellowing of a distant cow.

I nestle down next to my husband and daughter upon the pile of rags that serve as my blanket.

I go to sleep, so I can do it all again tomorrow.

Sasha is undertaking a Graduate Certificate in Arts (Writing) at Swinburne University, Melbourne. Her story is inspired her own visit to India, where she worked for an educational music publisher and travelled around Northern India, all of which she says was an "amazing, eye-opening and utterly crazy experience"

Thanks for the Birthday Gift. Love, Elise

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Fri, 14 Dec 2012 12:03:00 +0000

Thanks to everyone who took the time to vote on the expatsblogs awards - ended up with a golden birthday gift today in the form of a 1st place ribbon for Indian blogs in expatsblog's 2012 awards. Aww, I'm feeling the love.

At first it was a humorous experiment after noticing that my three-month-old blog had been nominated for a blog award in the first place. Being a relatively new award, the other blogs hardly

had any reviews. Fifty three votes later ..and I believe a couple of coffee promises from Ratnesh, and I now have ...new html code on the side-bar...

Lets be honest, there are many more comprehensive expat blogs out there from well-established bloggers, but I want to say a really big THANKS to anyone who reads my posts, including those who wrote a review - some of them were really sweet - Love to you all!

I'm grateful for this journey and wish you all the very best with yours xxoo

Postcard to Dawdler

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Thu, 13 Dec 2012 11:07:00 +0000

As most of what he does is digital, he finds it deeply pleasurable to simply hold a pencil for a few minutes every week

- Anonymous Dawdler

So I recently shared why I think that sending a letter has value in our culture of speed..

..but what about when you get that feeling to share generalities with the whole world?

Introducing Dawdler, a community of friends and strangers answering one simple question:

What are you doing, you know, more generally?

Updates are just as daft as twitter, only they are delivered at a more leisurely pace, meaning twice a year.

Oh, and please send your update via postcard to:

Dawdlr, c/o RIG,

32-38 Scrutton Street,

London, United Kingdom

EC2A 4RQ

Next online updates are on May 21st, 2013. So, you know, take your time.

I am rather chuffed to have joined Dawdler today. I wanted to send my first update last week as soon as I first stumbled upon Russell Davies' website. But the universe had less hasty plans for me.

I couldn't find a postcard anywhere in the house. And upon asking around my local markets, I couldn't find one there either.

Until the strangest thing happened. Upon returning home from another unsuccessful hunt on Tuesday, I flicked off my flip-flops only to notice this cheeky fella glancing up at me..

I have found the face of Dawdler

This is a postcard that Ratnesh got in Bhutan (the land of Slow) last year and I hadn't seen it since moving here. It must have spent the week hobbling out of hiding because I have no explanation as to how it ended up in the shoe pile.

I am now officially a Dawdler, having posted my very first update for 16 rupee ( + 40 rupee rickshaw) this morning - or at least, it is being posted around, somewhere out there, in India Post. You can't even 'speed post' a postcard, can you? It truly is the last method of mail that demands to take its time!

I've gotta say, the minor anticipation of seeing whether my postcard will make it onto the Dawdler newsfeed next May wins over the general indifference of sifting through the overload of random facebook information each day (I don't have twitter). And it sounds like some fun to receive random postcards with creative ramblings from strangers throughout the year.

Perhaps I can start a Dawdler community here in India! What do you think about that (you, know, more generally?)

Replies via postcard please (email me for receiver address :p)

I'm grateful for this journey and wish you all the very best with yours xxoo

Expat's Christmas Recipe: Heavenly Creamy Eggnog

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Tue, 11 Dec 2012 04:05:00 +0000

2010: I put Eggnog in these little jars and gave it away with presents

Eggnog brings back memories of the dentist - I used to be treated to it after each visit as a reward for being so brave. But for most, eggnog is a creamy, festive treat, which with its rum and brandy additions can definitely make your festive season more Jolly.

I used this recipe in 2010 and it was amazing

4 cups milk

3 cups cream

1 cup sugar

1 cup rum (eg. Old Monk!)

1 cup brandy

1/2 tsp vanilla extract or 1 full vanilla pod

2 tsp vanilla extract

10 fresh egg yolks

7 cloves

1tsp cinnamon or 1/2 cinnamon stick

1/2 tsp nutmeg, ground

Add cloves, cinnamon and 1/2 tsp vanilla to milk in a saucepan and heat on low for 5 minutes to bring it to a slow boil. In a bowl, whisk together egg yolks and sugar. Slowly add the hot milk mixture to the egg mixture and whisk together. Pour into a saucepan and cook on low for a few minutes. Strain to remove cloves/cinamon/vanilla and allow to cool for approx. 1 hour.

Once cool, stir in cream, rum, brandy, and 2 tsp vanilla extract. Refrigerate overnight and serve cool.

Makes 8 servings

This recipe adheres to Christmas project requirements for Expats in India

Recipe Index

You're Fat!! Weight Watchers in India

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Sun, 09 Dec 2012 05:18:00 +0000

Weight Watchers has taken on a whole new meaning recently. Excuse me for generalising but a few episodes have alerted me to the frankness of comments passed by Indian men and women on a person's weight, as well as their general appearance. Not behind their back, not sugar-coated, straight to their face as a noted assessment!

"You've got fat!"

These 'weight watchers' can be found everywhere, and can pounce at unexpected moments. May it be in your family after time between meets, among friends while trying on clothes, or even distant acquaintances during lunch break chit-chat.

Recent episodes that have alerted me to this inclination:

"You're Fat!" Scenario 1: First words spoken to a friend (another western lady who is with an Indian) by her mother-in-law after some time between visits.

..and then the next day..

"You've got fat!! Scenario 2: Exclaimed to another friend by a male colleague as a passing comment (I know that men around the world can be oblivious to the sensitivities of us women to our appearances, but seriously..)

And it works the other way too...

"She's pretty/skinny" A friend told it to Ratnesh, as a gesture of 'ápproval', third attribute being 'nice' (phew, I'm happy that snuck in!). Someone else also told me that I wouldn't have to worry about Ratnesh's family approving of me because I was pretty and slim. So, should I not be this weight, say, I gain 10 kgs, would I be fat and ugly and not acceptable to society? I no doubt would hear all about that too, or wouldn't I?

Sculpture of the Indian Female's Curves..

Now, how do you react to these sorts of comments?

In terms of the 'pretty/skinny' comment, I don't feel like saying 'thanks' (here or anywhere) when it is said in a context that ties my appearance to my value, as a friend, a girlfriend, a family member, whatever -even if the words are also trying to express kindness in a socially acceptable way.

Why do I find weight watchers interesting?

a) Women here don't seem any less sensitive about their appearances than anywhere else, perhaps a little more than some places (Skin colour sensitivities especially!). Surely then, the other person is aware that the receiver might take a frank 'fat' comment personally?

b) It comes out sounding judgmental, at least to me. It is not a supportive "oh.. you've gained a few pounds, it happens!", its a "You've got FAT! Wow!"

c) It comes out of the mouths of people who I wouldn't expect to say it. May it be a mere acquaintance, or someone like a mother-in-law, who in THEORY, being family should be supportive rather than judgemental (I can hear a few laughs at my idealism!)

d) It happens in Australia too, but only the game dare make a "You Faaat" comment to someone's face. (Unless it is about being skinny, or the two people are throwing hurtful words in an argument). This back-stabbing also happens here. I find it to be an ugly waste of breath anywhere in the world.

On trying to explain the weight watchers phenomenon to me someone explained that appearances matter a lot here. In what situations do they matter and why??

I've noticed that people, if asked how so-and-so's girlfriend/boyfriend is, will not hesitate to include physical appearances and perhaps say no more than what they look like and what they do. So yes I have picked up on the inference that these attributes are culturally important for determining suitable matches.

I'd also like to think that there are other reasons beyond the outright importance of looks for status and social acceptance that influence the weight watchers phenomenon.

So let me ask all the Indian's out there: What is this about??

Perhaps you sometimes feel that you are doing someone a favour by alerting them of weight gain?

Is it a gesture of 'closeness', that people can be so honest with another?

Perhaps it is neither said nor taken in a judgmental manner here?

Could "you're fat" even be a compliment at times??

I have no comments on weight watchers of men because I've mainly noticed it being used with women. Maybe its because I am a woman, maybe its because it stands out (as I feel that women are more sensitive to these sort of comments), or maybe its because there are actually less judgments made about men's physical appearance.

Also, I'm also not saying that it is always a 'bad' thing. As the old 'sticks and stones' saying goes, words are only offensive if someone already has insecurities about their looks (but as noted, I do feel that unfortunately most women have at least some insecurities.. so guys, please think twice before blurting out your observation!!)

And I must say that, actually, many people do not just come out and "say it as it is", but it is definitely an inclination likely to occur more frequently in conversations here, compared to in Australia, UK or Thailand, the other places where I have lived.

I am grateful for this journey and wish you all the very best with yours xxoo

Expat's Christmas: Salt Dough Ornaments

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Fri, 07 Dec 2012 15:21:00 +0000

This is a new Christmas idea for me, courtesy of my sister Tash

Natasha's pretty ornaments

Beyond the hanging of edible gingerbread men and popcorn chains on the Christmas Tree, I have never thought to make inedible decorations, until I saw how pretty my sister's home-made ornaments were this year. I was surprised to hear how easy they are to make and while she used an oven to bake them, I used a pan over very low heat on the stove-top - it did the job (the ornaments got burnt, but it didn't matter as I was going to paint them anyway)! The only thing was that I think my surface was a little harder to paint, because it came out slightly rough.

You're sure to have the ingredients (salt, flour, water) so now just need to decide how to decorate the ornaments and get the paint and whatever else you might need to make them look pretty.

Both of our batches came out looking a little 'rustic' - mine moreso than hers. But I personally like it. And for those with more artistic talent , the possibilities are endless in how you shape and decorate them. Do a google image search for "salt dough ornaments" for some inspiration and you'll see what I mean!

My first attempt.. plus a knitted Christmas Tree on the right..

[Using stove-top, these ornaments took 20 minutes to cook (approx 10 on each side), half an hour to cool, and then painting time. I repainted mine twice as the 'burnt look' was showing through the white paint with only one layer]

Thanks Tash!

Ingredients

1/2 cup warm water

1/2 cup flour

1/2 cup salt

Mix together 1/2 cup salt, 1/2 cup warm water and 1 cup of flour

Knead until the dough is smooth and roll out until approximately 5mm thick

Cut the dough into the shapes that you want your ornaments to be when finished (I used a small cup for circles and just freehand with a knife for the heart)

Add a hole at the top of the ornaments where ribbon or string will be attached later (use a skewer or pen. You can add a hole on the top and bottom of the ornament if you would like to make a chain of ornaments. Or, put four holes to make a square shape in the middle and 'sew''on a button )

Lay the ornaments out on an oven tray lined with baking paper.(Add texture and decoration by using stamps or a knife)

Bake at a low temperature, 120 c for around 1.5-2.5 hours [if using a stove-top, place dough shapes as far to the outside of the pan as possible and put on lowest heat, checking regularly that they are not burning) until hard, and browned. Check them every 15 minutes to half an hour [or every 3 or so minutes for stove-top] to ensure they are not overcooked. Take them out of the oven and allow to cool.

Once completely cooled, paint the ornaments (allow paint to dry after each coat, and before you flip over to do the other side) and thread ribbon or string so that they can be hung up or attached as a name tag to gifts.

Makes 10-12 small ornaments

This recipe adheres to Christmas project requirements for Expats in India

Wise Man's Christmas Tree

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Thu, 06 Dec 2012 12:19:00 +0000

Christmas Tree shopping hasn't been all that easy in Mumbai. so I've been considering an impromptu version.

My sister posted this photo this morning, 'Miss Pearlz' Christmas Tree ...

It involves books, yellow lights, and no cost, three of my favorite things. I thought, perfect, I'll give that a go..

**random twigs poking out for a tree effect & diwali lights for xmas lights

What do you say, passable?

If nothing else it makes an interesting talking point! It's a bit precious. But hey we don't have quite as many books as little Miz Pearlz does!

It's the little things..

I'm grateful for this journey and wish you all the very best with yours

Elise

Food for Thought: Eating Behaviors in India vs Australia

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Tue, 04 Dec 2012 15:37:00 +0000

Above: my favourite South Australian pastry - the Cornish Pasty. Made for one with a ridge to grab hold of.
Below: A selection of creamy Indian curries to share

"You identify yourself with others by eating the same thing in the same way..people will struggle to eat things they loathe..and avoid perfectly tasty food that is on the forbidden list.." - Robin Fox, You Eat What You Are

Beyond the need to eat for survival, eating is a powerful social symbol of who we are - our values, beliefs & shared identities. Not abiding by eating norms is one way to gain 'óutsider' or 'insider' status. Perhaps it is partly a drive to be accepted among Indians that I am viewing in the high volume of cooking tips and encouraging comments for "successful curries" that are shared online between expats in India. That and the sheer volume of variations and linkages between food, culture and religion, far beyond what can be found in Australian cuisine, for sure.

Beyond the well-known spiciness of Indian food and tradition of eating with your right hand, I have encountered other differences, and similarities, in eating attitudes among Indians. While some I have welcomed instantly, others have stirred some resistance and, dare I say, 'food for thought'..

Similarities

Be our Guest

He had a horrible thought that the cakes might run short, and then he - as host: he knew his duty and stuck to it however painful - he might have to go without - Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit, J.R.R. Tolkein

Sharing cups of coffee in Australia, Giving a cold drink and snacks/sweet in India

Guests are given priority in India, as they are in Australia. In Australia, the host & guest will usually have a cup of tea/coffee together. While it depends on each family, Indians go a little further, not stopping at a drink but often offering a plate of snacks, whether the host is eating snacks or not, or even inviting them join for a meal, despite whether a guest is planned or unannounced. It is like people here always have a 'guest food stash' on stand-by in case someone shows up at their door.

Food is Personal

Complimenting the chef is a polite gesture in both countries. On the flip side, verbally showing dislike is offensive too - at home or a restaurant. I first tried sweet paan a month back at a restaurant with office colleagues. To be honest, I found it disgusting. I wanted to spit it out . Knowing it would have been rude to exclaim my dislike, I excused myself for the bathroom to take out the rest..

I didn't think that showing dislike at a restaurant in Australia was offensive, but I certainly took it way too much to heart when Ratnesh's family didn't like continental dinner at a restaurant in Nainital! I was so surprised that I cared! I guess I was so excited to be eating a conventional, Aussie-type meal with Ratnesh's family that I got sad that they didn't taste what I tasted in that beautiful, oven-baked, jacket potato. So there you go, it goes both ways!

Differences

Eating Alone vs Eating Together

.. it usually doesn't go that far..

While dinners are still quite often family-time in Australia, Indians almost always eat as a group. Ratnesh leaves for work on an empty stomach and starts his day at the office canteen for breakfast with colleagues. It is much less common to spot an individual chilling at restaurants or coffee shops here. I like this, although it did at first make me a little uncomfortable to chill alone with a book at a cafe, which I have long enjoyed doing.

My Food vs Our Food

Indians are also much more likely to share food, not just space. If my lunch break coincides with that of my colleagues (which is likely, as eating together is a 'thing' ), it soon turns into a picnic, with everyone trying out the other person's dish.

I really do love this attitude of 'óurs' not 'mine' with food as it puts me in a mind frame to think beyond myself, to acknowledge & appreciate others around me. But sometimes, it is quite challenging, coming from a culture where dishes are usually designated to individuals, and offering to share is not the norm. Especially when there is one small, favorite food that I want to fully consume when I please without first offering it around. We went trekking during monsoon and we would always do a shared lunch with our group of friends. After the mountain descent, we stopped at a cafe for a chai break. They stock these small sponge-cake sweets at most places like these & I love them (its what I've used to make cheats lamingtons with). There are 5 bite-sized slices inside one pack. Upon requesting one, Ratnesh suggested that I offer to share with our four friends. I was like, are you serious. Four bites from the gang would have left me with basically one tiny slice. I so much wanted that cake, all 30 grams of it. But to say "I don't want to share" sounded so primary school, especially as many people had offered their single serving snacks to me in the past. While I'd like to say I bought a couple to share around, I went into a huff and settled for a chai, as this was what everyone else was having too. As I said, I really like the culture of sharing, but it can be counter instinctual for me at times!

Quality vs Quantity

"An average Western household would consider a one-dish casserole with a salad quite adequate, while we need rice, dal and chapatti as adjuncts to any meal" - Homemaking, Laeeq Futehally.

A nice start. Now add dal, acchar, perhaps some jaggery, buknu..

I have made soup for dinner a couple of times here. While Ratnesh says thanks, his eyes glare up in hope that the rest of the meal is on its way..

As well as providing a variety of different foods on one plate, Indians offer a variety of condiments and extras to their meals. In Australia, it is usually just salt & pepper. In fact, requesting additional condiments to a home-cooked meal can be insulting if the cook has put effort into creating 'subtle flavors' and 'simplicity'. Indian dishes are a taste explosion. It's funny to see people cover a simple homemade pasta or stir-fry dish with cups of extra sweet & spicey sauce without a second thought. I can imagine Italians would have quite the time watching that.

Quantity also refers to the generous spirit of the person serving food in India. You really need to be adamant (with a smile and thanks!) that you do not want anymore, otherwise they will keep on piling it on the plate. While giving compliments is really appreciated, expect them to also then offer you more, to which you can say no "or nahi, bahut acha tha!" [no, but it was very nice!].

Early vs Late Dinner
Whereas being a little early, or right on time, is considered polite when invited over to dinner in Australia, the opposite is true in India. Being 15 minutes, or even half an hour late is standard, and don't expect to eat for another hour after that. Also, dinner-time in Australia is around 6-7pm. But Indians have only just finished their afternoon cup of tea by then. Dinner in India comes at around 8-10:30pm.

Fresh vs Frozen

I've only found frozen food aisles in the massive hyper supermarkets in Mumbai

Look in an Indian's freezer: you will see ice cubes, maybe peas, corn. Look in an Aussie's freezer: you could see ice cubes, frozen vegetables, bread, frozen meat, chicken nuggets, pies & pasties, frozen leftovers, microwave meals, you name it.

While it is true that Indians are about quantity, it isn't the case that they don't care for freshness. Indians prefer to eat a meal that was just-cooked, and usually on a stove-top not a microwave. On the other hand, while an emphasis on serving a quality meals (ethics, presentation or freshness) goes against the freezing habits of Australians, the culture of convenience wins on many occasions and the high prices of home-deliveries makes a microwave meal a much more attractive option.

Chomp Chomp Chomp - BURP!

When Indians get into the meal you are most likely to hear it. It is not always the case, but while Australians will make a point to minimise noise, Indians are less concerned. Yes, well, this one was a little distracting at first, especially when it is chomping away at the last strings of meat on that chicken drumstick and I still have fresh images of smelly butcher shops chopping up cage-fulls of fated chickens from around the corner (first world sensitivities..?). A couple of times I've even heard a guy let out a burp and noone flinches. The chef can take it as a compliment!

Food is God

My Tulsi [basil] plant. In Hinduism, several deities & sacred pilgrimare sites dwell within this plant

There are religious occasions where food is sacred in Australia, depending on a person's religious. For example during a Christian communion, while taking bread and wine. To throw food around the table is surely rude, but it is not the great insult that it is in India. I learnt this one the hard way. I was feeling playful and, in ignorance, I threw a roti at Ratnesh's face. I thought it would make him laugh. Man did I feel bad after seeing his face.That is possibly the biggest insult that you could do. I may as well have spat in his face. Food is sacred. Lesson learnt. There is one exception though - birthdays. Then you can smother as much cake as you want over people's face. How did this tradition make its way into India? The funny this is that they think of it as a Western tradition.. I've surely never done it back in Oz ..

What parts of India's eating culture stand out for you? What aspects do you particularly like, dislike or don't understand?

I'm grateful for this journey and wish you all the very best with yours xxoo

Expats Christmas Recipe: Candied Almonds

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Tue, 04 Dec 2012 05:18:00 +0000

I was told this recipe by two lovely Swiss friends who relate it to their own Christmases of past. It meets my oven-less Christmas criteria, almonds are everywhere here, and it is so quick and easy to make that you would have some bad luck to stuff it up. The other great thing about candied almonds is the storage life. You can make them a couple of weeks before Christmas, so long as you trust yourself not to snack them away before the day arrives.

1 cup whole almonds

1/2 cup water

1 cup brown sugar

1 tbspn cinamon/ 1 cinamon stick, broken into pieces

Mix together water, sugar and cinamon in a saucepan until boiling. Add the almonds and stir.

The liquid will begin to evapourate..

2 minutes in...

5 minutes in...

...until a syrupy coating is left on the almonds. Pout almonds onto a stick-proof sheet and separate with a fork. Leave to cool for 15 minutes Serve warm or cold.

This recipe adheres to Christmas project requirements for Expats in India

Recipe Index

Expat's Christmas: Pomander Balls (Orange Clove Decoration)

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Mon, 03 Dec 2012 04:24:00 +0000

Pomander Balls

Pomander balls have so many things going for them, for expats & everyone, that they leave commercial, plastic Christmas balls for dead..

They make your house smell festive. They were originally used as natural air fresheners in the 15th Century. After making one last night, I woke up to a warm, citrusy-sweet aroma that will last throughout the festive season and into the New Year.
They are not just for Christmas time or Christians. They are nice decorations and air fresheners all year round, whether you celebrate Christmas or not.
They deter pests. Great for expats in India! They are ant & moth deterrents. Put them in drawers or hang them in the kitchen to keep away pests through natural means.
They last. While the aroma fades after some months, the ball can last several years. You need to keep the ball in a dry spot for the first few weeks to ensure longevity. This is called 'çure drying' and will prevent it from starting to decompose.
Bang for Buck. This is a bonus for those on budgets like me. You only need cloves & oranges. In Mumbai, making two balls cost us around 140rp ($1.30 each).
They are enjoyable. They take 2-3 hours to make but can be left & returned to as you please. It is something you can chip away while exchanging banter with good company. The smell that oozes from the skin as you're working on it lifts the spirit. It is satisfying to finish & it gives back generously with its smell, look, & long life.
They are simple. There is appeal for parents looking for a long-term Christmas project for their children. It is a great way to teach concentration & precision, without requiring too much skill.
They are unique gifts. Their natural, made-with-love look make a nice present either on their own or as a personal touch to a purchased gift.

The main skill in making Pomander Balls is to leave no orange skin visible.

What you need:

An orange

Cloves (approx 1/2 cup per ball made)

A bobby pin or toothpick

A ribbon & glitter(for hanging & decorating, optional)

Instructions:

Take the orange out of the fruit basket.

Stab the orange with a pin & leave it in there as a marking point.

Replace the pin with the clove, so that only the clove ball is poking out.

10 minutes in...

Repeat, making sure to place the cloves tightly together until you have completely covered all orange surface with cloves.

One hour in...

Almost two hours in...

The balls will shrink and harden over the first few weeks, as the moisture evapourates from them. During this time, make sure to hang it in a dry place.

Finished!

** Brush the cloves with glitter for a sparkly finish.

** Once the original smell has faded, brush them with a mixture of your favorite powdered spices (perhaps cloves, cinnamon nutmeg, ginger).

I am grateful for this journey and wishing you all the very best with yours xxoo

This project adheres to Christmas project requirements for Expats in India

Why am I excited about Christmas in India? I can make the rules!

noreply@blogger.com (Elise Collins) — Fri, 30 Nov 2012 20:38:00 +0000

Welcome to Christmas Season! As I have always wanted snow on Christmas, but don't get it in Adelaide or Mumbai, I've made my dreams come true here on this blog :)

Last week, while exchanging ideas on Christmas celebrations in India, a friend mentioned how she has done the whole "trying too hard", and then "not trying enough", approaches in previous years. It is true that finding the right balance in ''doing Christmas'' requires some thought in a largely Hindu nation with little knowledge about Nativity, Noel or Northern elves. But the fact that I have been inundated with new festivals and rituals here has enhanced my enthusiasm to make something of the one holiday that is part of my culture, family religion & upbringing.

Challenges for me this Christmas:

I don’t have an oven = no roasts, no gingerbread men.
Ratnesh’s family is Hindu & few friends do Christmas= no family/friends to join in with Christmas preparations or understand Christmas rituals.
My Christian family is in Australia = no family here.
Christmas Decorations are hard to find - where do you buy Christmas Trees in Mumbai?

2010 Gingerbread Cookies. None of those this year!

But in the end, I've decided that Christmas season is exciting because:

It’s my first Christmas here: I can start new Christmas rituals!
No-one knows anything about Christmas: I can make ALL the rules!
I can make Ratnesh sing carols & cook stuff with me, and tell him its the rules!
I avoid Christmas commercial hype! I decide when Christmas season starts!
Diwali lights are like Christmas lights - but cheaper!
I have no decorations - start of a new collection!

First addition to new collection. Proud of my bargaining skills which scored the set of 10 for 550rp ($10) down from 950 rp ($18).. not bad!

In the end, Christmas has always been about the attitude and activities that I take on during the season, not just what I do or what those around me do on the day. As a kid we used to secretly make paper decorations & popcorn chains to hang up at 3am on Christmas morning, just to see the smiles on our parents faces the next morning (We were soo Brady Bunch!)

Based on the benefits and challenges of celebrating Christmas here, I offer my list of easy yet enjoyable projects that meet my Christmas project requirements for Expats in India over the coming weeks:

DRINKS

Egg Nog

Mulled Wine

Cinnamon Cocoa

SWEETS

Candied Almonds

White Christmas
Chocolate Xmas balls

DECORATIONS

Pomander balls (great to deter ants & moths! see)

Salt Dough Ornaments

MUSIC

Michael Buble’s Christmas Album (it’s been playing since September. I’m training Ratnesh for the compulsory carols singing :p )

Looking forward to sharing some recipes/instructions from finished projects with you soon.

What are your ideas for those away from home (or without an Oven!) this Christmas?

I’m grateful for this journey and wish you all the very best with yours

Elise xxoo