shellEy here and there

flashes of a weekend at the beach

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Mon, 02 Aug 2010 02:26:00 +0000

Being home from India has been amazing. Even though I miss Mumbai and mostly reflect on it fondly, it was definitely time to come back. The last few weeks, I've been singing, resting, attending weddings and dancing all night, catching up on Mad Men (mmmmmmm!), reading poetry, recovering from illnesses which followed me home (a parasitic worm? who knows. Oh, India), reconnecting with great people, vacationing, and re-acclimating myself to life on this side of the world (Hulu.com really is great).

I spent this past weekend in Hilton Head, SC with my family. Special thanks to my Dad who made it a point to take this trip while I was in town as one last family blast before I head off to graduate school in a few weeks.

Here are a few snapshot observations from this weekend...

Standing on the beach in perfect weather, watching the sunset, and my dad saying "it really doesn't get better than this;" constantly snacking on amazing food; overhearing Bailey's giggling from the other room; admiring a sand castle, then noticing an old man was building it; lounging in the pool and talking to Vikas about my wedding and whether it will be on a cruise or a destination wedding (even though some important details are yet undecided including who I'll marry); running my fingers through the big, bouncy, crusty curls of my beach hair; being woken up by an enthusiastic Bailey every morning; keeping hilarious "that's what she said" jokes to myself; witnessing the extraordinary sight of pelicans nose-diving into the ocean like fighter jets; having conversations about astronomy with my Dad while bobbing with the waves in the ocean; and clinking our red wine glasses in a toast to family and to best wishes on my next steps.

This has been my life the last few days and it's been nothing short of perfect. India was good...but so is this.

It's time to go Home

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Tue, 29 Jun 2010 15:20:00 +0000

I don't even know where to start. As much as I've hoped for this moment when I'd reach the end of this road, my arrival is bitter sweet. But arrived, I have. I'm a different person than the one who showed up here about a year ago. I made it. Through all the mattress travails, the mosquitoes, the experiences of every consistency and shade of bowel movement (believe it), the depths of loneliness, the heartache of music, the anguish, the beach, the power of love for a Land, and falling asleep to the voice of God I indeed conquered.

India, I've been lost and found and lost again. I have loved you, and hated you, and loved you again. Every time, you've pulled me closer, and I'm managing to escape your clutches for just a little while.

I'll be back soon, and we'll be together again.

thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you...
all my heart, my soul, my love, alas, my everything to You.
s

Happy Father's Day!

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Sun, 20 Jun 2010 20:15:00 +0000

Happy Father's Day, Daddy!!

I cannot count the ways this experience was meaningful and special because of you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope you enjoy yourself and indulge a little today. You've earned it!

lots of love and see you soon!! (like 4 days soon!)
shelley

emergency landing: an overdue post

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Tue, 08 Jun 2010 18:29:00 +0000

Hi all,
In March, I got pretty ill in India and went home to Atlanta for some r&r. Actually, I had plans to go home for about 10 days for my grandpa's 90th birthday (pic of us from the event below) but as the date of my return neared, I got so sick - home sick, physically sick, emotionally sick, every kind of sick. All of a sudden India had become a toxic environment for me and I needed OUT. So, I got home and instead of just 10 days, I took a whole 2 months to recover. And recover I did.

It was a good few weeks at home, enjoying familiars like baked potatoes, driving on the right hand side of the road, eye contact, trash cans, straight forward communication, and margaritas. I didn't realize how much I missed certain things about my life in the States. I was recovering from feeling starved physically (I cut my dress size in half after 7 months of being here), and emotionally (I missed my friends, and getting to be multi-dimensional again was a relief).

Anyway, that's all to say that I'm back in Mumbai now, recharged and ready to take on another few weeks at the school. Most importantly, I'm back because I have exams in just a few weeks (eeek! t-16 days and counting!), and I need to make up for lost time that I didn't practice back at home. I'm trying not to beat myself up over not practicing as much at home because the truth is, I was super burned out. 6-8 hours a day of singing (or doing any one thing, I'd speculate) is exhausting, believe it or not. Now that I'm back, it's nose to the grindstone, just me and my books and the harmonium. I'm trying to stay focused knowing that I have one last shot at making everything right here. But I've also struck a balance. Listen Mumbai, I'm going to enjoy these last few weeks if it means eating out for lunch and enjoying the AC for an hour a day. I'm roughing it, but I'm also keeping things from being unbearable, basically.

My Juhu Beach walks are again part of my routine, as are the 6 AM practices, dog pee in the hallways, uncomfortable smells, and Subway sandwiches.

Not a whole lot has changed around here...except for me. I'm going to kick this exam's ass and call it a (long and successful) day.

love
shelley

p.s. I'd love to hear from you all now that the blog is back!

Don't You Want Me, Baby?

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 18:37:00 +0000

I'm including this video for your listening pleasure as your read this post. (available on original post, only, not RSS, sorry!)

Lately, me and India have been going through a rough patch. I'm optimistic and I'm calling our first mini fight, but India's been unwilling to listen to me lately during our little spats. Let me explain.

I've been struggling with two exhausting issues. First, is loneliness which I've bored you about before. But this feels different, more intense. Don't get me wrong, I don't sit in my room and cry about it all the time (at least not every day), but I do wonder how I can love a place so much and want to spend my whole life here, but then not feel like I have much (any) community here.

Let's put it this way: The thought of leaving here makes my heart ache. Imaging myself roaming about in the US (or anywhere else) makes me gasp for air like I'm drowning in sorrow before I catch myself and remember that I'm still here and there's no need to go there yet in my head or in my heart. It's the kind of heart ache that feels so good for right now, because I'm in the comfort of India's arms -- the comfort of the smells, the Bollywood ringtones, the Hindi slang, the auto rickshaws, the street food, the silk saris. I want to spend my last days here. I want to die here. If I can, I want to spend the rest of forever here. I need to be connected, not just spiritually and emotionally, but physically to this land. I want my ashes scattered here, and I want my scions to Know this Place as theirs.

But, how can I make that happen if I feel at home here and also so alone? Seeing a crowd of people walking down the street with their black-haired heads bobbing in front of me makes me sigh and think "ahhhh....these are my people." But then, "my people" aren't really here. I got to witness two old friends meeting for the first time in months two weeks ago. Seeing that first embrace and the disbelief that the other was standing there in the flesh, that cheek-to-cheek smile, that total understanding and surrender that only comes from seeing someone who you can be your whole Self around made me...I don't know. At once happy for them and happy for the world that such relationships exist, but also sad that I have felt that before, but don't have that here at all. I miss my people. I miss car rides with Jodi where we eat ice cream, drink coca-cola, and talk about the End Times. I miss going to Target with Leise and making fun of everything. I miss hanging out on the lawn at the Cave. I miss the distinct smell of the garage at Helmer road that I'd recognize with a blindfold on. I miss counting on pals to be there through thick and thin. I want to have my friends around who I can cry in front of. No masks, no guards, just Me. Not mostly Me, but totally Me. The closest I have come is my dearest Yashna who can relate to my frustrations on practically every level. But getting to know her has been like a small taste of a deep friendship which has left me craving more just as she's leaving next week.

I want to be here so badly, but it doesn't make sense to do it when all my friends and family aren't here. And I can't have both, so I have some serious decisions coming up. I don't know how I can leave India behind, though. I console myself about June by thinking about how graduate school is just for 2 or 3 years but then I can zip right back here.

Last time I left India, here's what I wrote:

I knew that I'd miss it when I got back...and I do. It's just not the same here. I'm just waiting to get through school, graduate in December, and go back as soon as I can. I want to go back and see it all again, but this time soak up even more the tastes, the smells, the sounds. *sigh* I miss it. It's in my dreams, it's in my heart. India, I love you.

Everything will be the same, except more intense, I'm guessing.
In the meantime, I'm working on how to reconcile that and also not worry about it too much because I still have 6 months here to eat pani puri to my heart's content.

The other issue that's been plaguing me -- literally -- is some weird allergic reaction that's been persisting for about a week and a half. My friend teases me and asks "How's your rash?" which makes me sound like some walking, diseased creature and reminds me of those embarrassing pages over the intercoms that kids got in homeroom in middle school. I think it's dust mites, or maybe scabies. After I spent the last two days painstakingly sanitizing everything -- sheets, room, cupboards, bathroom, every article of clothing, me -- and it still wasn't gone this morning, I cried really hot tears of frustration and rage. I was livid about these dumb critters which won't go away, about the lengths that I went to yesterday in the hopes that it would work, and that I had to do it all alone which was maybe the worst part. I called my mom and she said she'd send me a ticket to come home which she meant comfortingly, but made me even more pissed, of course. But I went to see a dermatologist at the hospital today (first time at an international hospital and all I can do is write in my book over and over how grateful I am to have to resources to waltz into a place like that and get first class treatment), and he said that it might be some parasitic worm or something, which he gave me meds for.

OK, THAT'S IT. I mean come on, India. I just announced to the world on the internet, and I'd stand on the top of any building to proclaim my love for you. And this is what I get in return?? Come on! My friend Pat compares everything to a bad boyfriend, and that's exactly what this India is turning out to be. I thought we had something here. You, India, keep crapping on me and taking advantage of me, and I, hopelessly smitten and blinded by love, keep crawling back. I swear, if I have a parasitic worm that looks like this roaming around in my stomach, I will seriously consider breaking up with You. (Trouble is, even something that disgusting is no guarantee of me walking away, I'm so in love.) It's rather pathetic the kind of abuse that I'm taking from India and I still keep coming back for more.

Pray for me that it's not a worm or something worse because I really really want this fight to end. Oh, and also, I want to get better soon and not have random itchy outbreaks. Yeah, that too.

Charlie Brown, you said it best: "Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love."

shelley

p.s. sidenote: I banged out some of this frustration on Mansi today and she was awesome. I haven't even begun to explore the depths of music...

where is my jetpack

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 13:23:00 +0000

Happy New Year, everyone!
Details later on how I rang in the new year, but for the time being, let's just leave it at "pretty rough morning in class" :) A fun night, nonetheless.

When I was a kid, the thought of the year "twenty-ten" sounded so distant, like I might not ever be old enough to see a twenty-something year. But, here we are. Still, I'm a little bit surprised that this decade isn't more futuristic. I was sort of expecting a Jetsons lifestyle.

Here's some lines off a favorite tee that I got on threadless:

they lied to us.
this was
supposed to be
the future.

where is my jetpack,

where is my robotic companion,
where is my dinner in pill form,
where is my hydrogen fueled automobile
where is my nuclear powered levitating house.

where is my cure for this disease.

-------

Well, i don't feel so pessimistic about 2010 or the future, at least not in this moment. I think that this year is going to be full of blessings and challenges, and hopefully lots of both. Wishing everyone out there the best damn decade ever.

and also, India, I love you.
Thanks for letting me celebrate my new year with you,
s

More coming

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Sun, 27 Dec 2009 19:57:00 +0000

Lots to catch up on here including pics and vids from a successful Annual Day, details about my exam (which I whooped), and a general recap of my experience at the 5 month mark. I only have a few min right now, but I wanted to share a quick thought.

I thought I'd never admit this, but I'm lonely and missing home. Caveat: only missing home a teeny weeny bit, and I'm not really missing the USA. What I mean is, I'm missing people I connect with, people my age, and people who think like me. I want to have a conversation with someone about a Post-colonial critique of poor Indian children selling Santa hats on the street in Mumbai on Dec 24. Or about third world feminist identity. Or about going back to grad school. Or about painting. Or even about music if I could just meet someone who knew Erykah Badu. Honestly, there's too much about me that never gets expressed here that no one else I know can relate to. It might be a mixed blessing that I don't appreciate just yet.

Basically, I'm saying: Friends, you are missed like whoa. My friend, Nichole, wrote this to me some months ago after reading my blog:

"take care and remember: there's a difference between loneliness and being alone...one is a condition of the heart (often permanent) and the other is a temporary, character-building endeavor that teaches us how to be more human."

I can only hope that I'm battling the latter and just learning to be more human?
Blah. Being human is overrated.
Right now, loneliness is my Kryptonite.
Music, take me away.
s

This Land is My Land

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 19:10:00 +0000

The lines to that song were ringing in my ears today as I drank a celebratory Coca Cola on the beach alone, looking out over the sunset. Even though the rest of the words to the song don't exactly fit, it was kind of perfect.

Today, I got an envelope in the mail with the address written in my Dad's familiar handwriting. I ran up to my room, locked the door behind me, and sat with it for a few moments. I couldn't believe what I was about to see. My heart was in my throat when I opened it, and out tumbled two little booklets. One -- a navy blue one with a gold seal on the front that I used to keep tucked away in a pocket of a duffel bag in DC in case I needed to up and run away somewhere instantly -- is also known as my passport. The other one is blue, too -- the same color blue as those seats on the trains in India that makes me just melt -- and also has a golden seal on it, but it's for "The Republic of India."

I'm a dual citizen, friends! It's official! I know I mentioned it in a previous post, but holding those sacred government-sanctioned documents (do I even believe in government?? well, I do at least for the purpose of getting to stay in India ;-D) was more than I could ask for from this already awesome week.

Here's a pic of my new goodies. I didn't get a pic of me holding them, but imagine tears + my Pani Puri face. Something like this --> :D

Under "validity" of my new Indian visa, it says "lifelong." Yeah, I just about lost my breath over that one. Now, the only thing keeping me from staying here for ever and ever and ever is...me. It's totally up to me. For everyone who keeps asking me when I'm coming back "home," I am at home. And if you mean to ask when I'm coming back, my answer is, "I'm never, ever leaving. At least not in my heart." And now my body can stay too if I want.

India, it's you and me, Baby, one way or another until the very end of my days.
shelley

staring competitions

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 04:36:00 +0000

The staring here is out of control. I mean, people glare and crane their necks long after they've passed me, even at the risk of bumping into something I front of them, to size me up. They stand in groups and tap their friends on the shoulder to point at me and comment. Sometimes the women whisper to each other and stare with so much disdain, it makes me look down and think wait, I didn't actually leave the house wearing a miniskirt, right?? Do I look like a hooker? Or am I not wearing a shirt at all or something? I really did put on a salwaar kameez today like every other day, right?? It's bad.

When I first got to Mexico, I was surprised by how the men stared. I realized that it was because I must have been a somewhat rare sight for many of them: a young woman, walking around alone. Plus, most of them assumed I was Mexican, so if they stared, they were giving me the totally creepy, "Oye mamacita, I would do anything to be with you right now if you just said yes even though I have a wife and kids back home" look, not the "hello tourist, how are you? How can we make your stay enjoyable?" look. It wasn't just to me, though, obviously. It was to every woman under 40, if I had to guess. I felt uncomfortable a lot of the time, but I learned to wear long sleeves and I mastered my cold face which responded "if you come one step closer or fantasize for a moment that I am attracted by your gestured proposition, I will kick you in your cajones." It must have been that mean since the guys backed off a little bit.

India's different though. They stare for different reasons. Here, they're trying to place me. They're curious and are trying to take in as much about me as possible so they can hurry up and pass judgment. All this speculating and condemning must be completed in about 10 seconds (sometimes 15 or 20 depending on how flexible their necks are and on how fast I'm walking), so it's intense. I remember a few years ago when I came for about 2 weeks, I arrived having decided that I would stare back. I remember planning it all out when I was packing my clothes for the trip and making the conscious decision that I would definitely glare back and make them so uncomfortable that they'd avert their eyes first. In the 14 days I was here, I didn't win a single one of my private little contests. Not a single. I'd try and stare back and the men (especially) would either look so offended that I dared to give them a cold look (because of course they have every right to check me out, size me up, make me feel uncomfortable with their greedy eyes) that I thought they'd march over to me and kick my ass (or harm me even worse) OR they'd be turned on which was most definitely not what I was going for. So every time, I'd have to look away because I didn't want to be hurt.

This time, I didn't think about it really. Honestly, I sort of forgot how invasive the staring is until I got here. Anyone I complained to about it said relax, you get used to it. But that wasn't really comforting, either. There's a lot about India that I wanted to get used to, but somehow, feeling violated and uncomfortable when I'm out on my evening walk was not one of them. And the more they stared, the more uncomfortable I got. And the more uncomfy I got, the more out of place I felt. And thus, the more they stared because I looked so awkward, like I didn't belong. It was an ugly cycle.

Somehow, though, along the way, my attitude has changed. I've changed, actually. I'm not adjusting anymore, not feeling like an outsider, not really even feeling out of place out on the street. You know by now how I feel, right? (hint: happy.) I've figured out how to carry myself. It's much less intentional than in Mexico, and I don't have to walk around with the fierce look, even if I'm alone. I really don't even think about it. I look a bit more like I belong. Or at least like I've convinced myself that I belong and that body language and energy seem to have gone a long way. The stares have subsided significantly, but they're still there.

So now, I stare back.
I stare back because I can. Because I've got the gumption to do so. Because I know my way home if anything were to happen. Because I know who to call if anyone messes with me. Because I feel in my element enough to be sassy. Because I frankly don't fear them. It's no longer "What could they do to me?", but "What would they actually do??" And because I've got some good cuss words under my belt.

Plus, with my new found confidence, I like to mess with folks a bit. For one, they don't expect the stare back. It's especially fun to catch someone staring and if they avert their eyes, I keep staring because I'm sure that in a second, they'll turn around for another glance. And when they do, BAM! I catch them again. Sometimes I catch one person 4 or 5 times until they're so ashamed they have to stop. Sometimes, I even give them a thuggish jerk of my shoulders in a gesture of "what? huh? what do you think you're looking at? You got something you want to say to me? Then why don't you come over and say it?" They never do, of course. :)

It's wonderful being on the winning side of this staring competition.
Even more wonderful knowing I'm doing it in India. Bring it!
shelley

up to my eyeballs...

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 18:58:00 +0000

...in graduate school applications (applying to environmental/landscape design, sustainable development, and south asian diaspora/migration studies programs), studying for end of term exams (I'm giving a written exam of two years worth of music theory in some 2.5 weeks), and other projects going on at the school (including two or three which were not described in the previous post). More details on the progress of all my work as I have some news. (In the meantime, if you want to send me an encouraging note or just generally good vibes so that I accomplish all of this like the raging rock star i aspire to be, by all means... :D)

i was almost feeling overwhelmed yesterday but then i remembered that i still get to see the beach, sit with Mansi, and enjoy a cup of chai practically every blesséd day.

india, meri jaan...i love you more than I've ever loved anyone or anything.
s

in pain (the good kind)

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 02:09:00 +0000

We got yelled at yesterday morning. It happens. Around here, I guess you're supposed to get used to it and let it roll off. But then why do they yell if we cope by ignoring? I don't understand what comes of it except high blood pressure. Anyway, whatever whatever whatever.

I spoke with Jodi for about 45 seconds:

Shelley: I got in trouble
Jodi: Lots of trouble?
S: sort of. not sure how bad, though. we'll see.
J: Are you getting sent home??
S: Oh, naw. It's not that bad.
J: Oh. (disappointed)

haha. There's very little about me that makes me an ideal candidate for the school (my background, my lack of training, my age, my level of commitment to singing professionally, etc.), but I still belong here for the time being. Sorry dear, but I'm just not coming home that easily.

Plus, I received some really good news.

Drumroll please....I got dual citizenship!

I can stay here as long as I want and don't have to register myself with the local police like I'm some sort of bandit. And thanks to skype, I can imagine a life here that doesn't feel so far away. It'll feel more real when I get a few more docs in the mail. That's when I'll take a few friends out for a round of pani puri, but until then, I'm celebrating in my heart like it's 1999.

I have already started daydreaming about being in India to live, work, and play.
My cheeks hurt from smiling so much,
shelley

shelley neither here nor there

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 19:32:00 +0000

I realize that I'm publishing this on the internet for everyone in the world to see (except maybe folks in China?), but it's still worth mentioning that not everyone can/should know that I just got back from Pune. I had to pull some strings and lie...? nah, "lie" is a bit harsh...bend the truth a bit to be able to take some time off. Supposedly I was visiting family, but actually, I was playing cards and star gazing some 3 hours away. So, for what it's worth, since you're reading this, feel free to restrain yourself from going around and spreading the news about what I was up to last week. :) Most people who would have a problem with it, though, have no idea about the blog, but some see me on facebook.

Anyway, my head was buzzing when I left Pune. The last couple of days I was there, I was both excited about coming back and getting back into my routine and also really enjoying the hospitality, good food and awesome weather. Mumbai can be hot and muggy, and stays that way all year long. While longing for D.C. winters is completely out of the question (check out the pic below to get an idea for how cold it was in January last year), I still kind of miss having four seasons. Pune was arid and there was a slight chill in the evenings and it was so perfectly sunny and breezy during the day time that it reminded me of San Francisco.

Me in DC last winter. I do not miss climbing into this jacket even a little bit:

Aside from the weather, there were some other things keeping me from wanting to come back. I met some cool people to hang out with! Ajinkya's crew back in Pune was super sweet and convinced me -- several times, against my better judgment -- to stay just one more day and party with them. I was surprised by how quickly they accepted me, included me in their conversations, told me stories, were eager to get to know me, and were all out friendly. They used phrases I couldn't resist like "if you go, I won't talk to you ever again" or "if you're cool you won't go." How could I say no to the nicest guy from my trip who sent me a text in the middle of the night that read "please don't go tomorrow. :-("? He was convincing me to stay for one more day to party with him. And stay, I did. Oh and speaking of partying, I got the chance to have more than 1 drink in a sitting so that was refreshing, too.

And Pune, as a city, is officially one of my favorites in India. It's young, and as I mentioned before, there are unique hangouts and independent coffee shops, restaurants and bars. The idea of a bar where you can just sit and they play good music while you chat with your friends seems to be a foreign concept in Mumbai. Here, there's not much in between the seedy dance bars (pseudo strip clubs), chain coffee shops (like CCD and Barista), high end restaurants where they serve cocktails, and all out clubs which are too expensive to frequent regularly and are really not so chill. The clubs in Mumbai are more of a "scene," but Pune was even more laid back than Mumbai (I wonder how I'll ever go back to Delhi? I hear it's quite the opposite). Let's just say that I was impressed with this little place. I found a lot less wannabeism and a lot more individuality. And when I finally settle here in India, it will be on the top of my list of cities I could see myself in. Speaking of staying in India...details forthcoming.

One more fabulous thing that happened to me while in Pune - I met Yashna!
She's a friend's ex-roommate's friend, so we're about three degrees of separation from each other, but we were meant to meet. She's an Indian American who had a roller coaster of a year emotionally and spiritually (my words, not hers), packed all of her stuff in the States and came to India to find some solace and healing. (Sound familiar??? ;-)) We instantly hit it off when I first talked to her some weeks back, and visiting with her was a high priority for my trip to Pune. We had dinner at an Italian place in Koregaon Park, drank wine, enjoyed awesome pesto pizza and mushroom stuffed tortellini, and even split a chocolate bomb for desert. Talk about total vacation for me. And we did that all while having the most meaningful conversation I've had with anyone in person since coming here. I finally found someone I could talk to about identity, about the politics of hair and skin color here, and what it feels like to be in a rut and find yourself starting to climb out. Plus, we're about the same age which was a welcome change from the youngsters I've been spending time with. (Although I do love that most of my friends here are so young [17-23 or so] because it keeps things light, helps me laugh more, and is generally just fun.)

Still, spending time with a woman who's my age, speaks my language (literally and in many different ways, figuratively), and shares a lot of other aspects of my identity made me come to a few realizations. Like, how I love it here and so badly want to blend in. I want to get all the jokes, speak without any errors, read and write fluently, etc. But I also want some credit for making it this far; sometimes I want acknowledgment for where I've been and the fact that I can even get along this well here. In the end though, as I was hanging out with Yashna, I realized that identity-wise, no matter who/where I want to be, I'm really neither here nor there.

But don't for a second think this was a tragic realization. Nay, the good part is that for once in my life, I don't feel utterly trapped by this duality. Yeah, so I'm Indian and American. Yeah, so I love that my roots are in both places, and I've proven to myself that I can successfully live in either culture. But I can finally say that I don't have to be one or the other. I'm not an American, no matter what my accent sounds like, and I'm not an Indian no matter how often I wear salwaar kameez. I'm both and that's that.

A final thought about Pune before logging off: I haven't spent much time around dogs or other animals as pets. This past week, I got used to hearing the pitter patter of Zulu's steps in the other room and greeting him when I walked in the door. I won't say that we totally bonded, but we were comfortable with each other, and it dawned on me what a presence pets bring to a home. I caught myself wondering how he was doing earlier this afternoon. He's probably lounging right now or playing fetch with someone. Lucky dog. Here's a couple of pics of him and a few more of the new friends I made.

puppy love

enjoying a margarita at Hard Rock Cafe

Nutella + banana sandwich and cappuccino

(seriously, no one deserves this much pleasure in life)

at Sinhagad which is a half day trip away

(he really is that much taller than me)

drinking fresh chaach at the top of the mountain

view over the city on the way to Sinagad.

Gorgeous view, gorgeous day.

Perhaps one of my favorite excursions since I got to India.

Udy and Ajinkya off the court after their nightly game of ball

me with Shalome, aka Shelley

Two Shelleys in a room makes for lots of trouble.

playing Jenga!

coming soon on shellEy here and there: reactions to my tan and answering "does this ever get easier??"
hugs from back in Mumbai,
shelley

I say Puna, you say Pune

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 18:56:00 +0000

I've been spending the last couple of days in Pune on vacation. I have a couple of dear friends here, including one Ajinkya who you might have read about in some previous posts. He so warmly invited me to stay with him and his family that I could hardly refuse. I have so much to say about my few days away from the school here, but I only have a few min right now, so here's just a little bit.

I have met the most adorable people, and Pune is the most unique city that I've gotten to know in India so far. Mumbai will always have a special place in my heart, but Pune has awesome weather, is cleaner, and has a real "scene" for young people that I think I could get used to. The size reminds me of DC - small enough to get around, but big enough to call a city.

It's been nice to feel like I'm being taken care of and the food is homemade, full of variety (awesome!), and made with lots of love (not to mention totally delish: prawn curry, fish filets, cabbage salads, homemade achaar [pickle], and very very little daal. awesome.). Since being here, I've had my own room, a super firm and cozy bed, time for yoga and meditation every day, and hot tea in the mornings with a view of the city from a chill balcony while soaking in crisp (68 degree) fresh air and warm sunshine. It's been good. Really really good.

I can't wait to get back to Mansi, though.
Coming soon: lots of pictures, on making a new friend, and thinking about what it means to be an American living in India...

besitos,
shelley

doing some other things, too

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 12:47:00 +0000

As it turns out, I've found a way to make myself useful at the school. Sure, I can't sing like the others, but I've got some skills that I could whoop their butts in: I can read and write English decently well. 1 point, shelley, 0 points rest of the students. ha.

I'd been thinking about how to handle the events that I recounted a few days ago. Should I go talk to her? Would she chew me out, though? Should I send a message through someone else? That seemed too indirect. I thought about writing her a note of apology and explanation, but I brushed it off because I thought she wouldn't appreciate a letter since I live in the same house practically. She might expect me to come confront her face to face. In the end, though, I admitted that I feel most comfortable handling conflict and expressing myself through writing.

I wrote her a 2 page note on small paper and in my signature green ink. I tried to deliver it to her and dash off, but she made me wait while she read it (it was pretty awkward). We ended up having a conversation afterwards and it was....just lovely. It was strangely intimate because she opened up and told me so many stories about her father who she was very close to (and who was also the visionary for the school and an extremely accomplished singer/musician. More about him in another post.). And you know how I feel about a fondness between fathers and daughters...

Somehow, this very tranquil space for us opened up and we chatted for almost an hour. Just before leaving, everyone was feeling so warm and fuzzy, and I mentioned that she shouldn't hesitate to ask me if she needed some help with anything, including editing the English version of the 2nd year book, which I knew was underway. Thrilled about the offer, she immediately handed me a fresh proof which the printers had sent back that day.

Since then (about 10 days ago), I've been working on edits and looking and various drafts of the book. I've also helped put some official letters together, been consulted on vocab and grammar questions, and most recently, I've been working on adding input for the new web site for the school which we're trying to launch ASAP. I've spent hours and hours with the Principle, in her quarters, both of our noses between the pages of manuscripts, chatting, sipping on tea, discussing linguistics, and most recently, we even started exchanging books, quotes, and opinions about Ayn Rand.

Strange how things can change. That said, I am in no way ready to call us close or friends. I'm still mostly terrified of her, but it's nice to see her other side. :)

still more to catch up on; it's coming soon.
shelley

doing what I came here to do

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Sun, 29 Nov 2009 06:16:00 +0000

It's been almost 3 weeks since I've updated because it's been unusually hectic at the school. In short, we got in trouble. Heaps and heaps of trouble. We weren't going to the 6 AM practices with extremee regularity or always on time (I'd like to add that I had about a 90% attendance rate...not horrific, but still it's not 100%) so one day the principle came into our class and chewed us out. She entered the room, started yelling at all the hostelites, kicked us out of class, and told us to pack our bags. She wasn't ready to compromise, was sick and tired of dealing with us (apparently?), and didn't want to hear any excuses. [Sidenote: in truth, that morning in particular that she was referring to was a bit of an exception because the door to the practice room was locked for some reason so we waited around for a bit and then went to bed not knowing what to do. Still, this excuse was invalid in her eyes.] We stood in class for a few minutes wondering what to do when she yelled again to get the hell out of her sight (or some such language) and that she really didn't want to hear anything else.

Leaving class, however, was not an option for a few reasons. 1) We'd be conceding that we deserved to be kicked out. 2) Along the same lines, we couldn't just up and leave the classroom without a fight. 3) It is totally disgraceful to get kicked out of Guru Ji's class. (And Guru Ji was soooooo sweet. He's freaking the most adorable person that I've ever met. He was trying to defend us, but there was no chance that he'd be able to stand up to the Principle who's a rigid martinet and happens to be his older sister.) And 4), if for no other reason, at least I wanted to go back to class...because it rocks! It's amazing to be in the presence of Guru Ji while he's doing riyaaz. I mean, sure I get everything wrong all the time when called upon and he has a special way of picking on me, but I adore him and miss his class if he's not there for even a day.

So instead of admitting defeat immediately, we stood outside of class for a few minutes and whisperingly conferenced for a few minutes and decided to go to her room and apologize to her personally hoping she'd let us return to class. As soon as we entered her room, she started yelling again. I was trembling, wondering when it was going to end. I actually felt like I was standing in a lion's pit and the zoo keeper wasn't anywhere to be found. No one could really save me from the situation, so I just had to stand in the corner and pray that I wouldn't be eaten alive even though the lion looked really really hungry. She didn't accept our apologies and told us to get out of her sight again. She also threw in some more insults like "you all are the most negligent, undisciplined, ungrateful, spoiled, unworthy, [insert more insults, etc.] group of students I've ever known." At this point, I realize that she's really just outdoing herself with the adjectives. Kya dialogues maarti hai yeh Didi! I mean seriously, no one deserves to be yelled at like this unless you're really trying to prove a point or trying to scare the crap out of them. (I think she was going for both.)

I also learned that getting a good scolding in India is pretty different than back home. Occasionally, the discipliner might throw in a question here and there. I have learned that most questions are rhetorical here, so don't bother with them.

Example:

"Do you think it's fair to your parents that you're such an imbecile?!"

Response back home: "Excuse me, ma'am, but I'm not an imbecile."

Response in India: Just shut up and don't answer. Extra points for looking down.

In the end, I was called back to class (I guess because I'm new and because I have dimples I think) and I got off really lightly. Hardly a slap on the hand. I was shaking in my boots for the rest of the day, though. Instead, to avoid such a verbal ass whooping again, I've been practicing my pants off and kissing lots of butt lately. It's working in my favor so far (knock on wood, or "touch wood" as they say here). It just might have been the right amount of fear I needed to be even more serious.

These days, I wake up and sing every day (5:55 AM these days to be precise ;D), get to look out on the ocean, enjoy the company of a few gems of friends who take good care of me, laugh at the cheesy jokes they crack in Hindi (which is somehow way funnier), write a good bit, and practice a lot.

I'm doing what I came here to do.

Goddamnit, I love it here so much.

shelley

100 day milestone

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 15:44:00 +0000

I have a special ritual that I don't talk about much, but it's changed my life, and I recently crossed a milestone. When I was in DC, I met a wonderful woman who was incredibly centered, intuitive, open, friendly, and every time we talked, I walked away with some sage tidbit. We only met 3 or 4 times over a glass of wine or coffee and sometimes bumped into each other in the neighborhood. She is multi-talented: a yoga practitioner, writer, gardener, thinker, and probably many other things. She seemed to have it all figured out...or at least she had figured out how to not have it figured out gracefully. One thing I learned from her was about the practice of keeping a list of gratitudes. Actually, I used to do this in college and Beau and I used to talk about it sometimes, too, but she inspired me to start again.

Some days after getting to India when I was struggling to find some meaning in this experience, I decided to be more regular about the list and made a commitment to write daily. Basically, it's a short exercise to reflect on things I'm grateful for or, if you're in the mood to be cheesy, you could say it's a chance to count my blessings. (Also, as you can see below, it is aptly decorated with a pic of Bailey who I am very very grateful for.)

Well, yesterday was the 100th consecutive day of making a gratitude list. There are few things in my life that I've been so committed to and for so long, so that's an accomplishment in itself. But more importantly, this list has changed my perspective, my attitude and my general outlook. Here are some things which appear the most regularly that I'm grateful for:

- being in India
- this experience
- my parents
- getting to sing every day
- time with my two closest friends here
- conversations with jodi
- street food (yes, I am actually grateful to the universe for pani puri because it's divine)
- the chance to do this again tomorrow and make up for everything that I didn't do today
- feeling free free free
- for this level of contentedness...and so much more.

(I'd highly recommend this exercise to anyone)

In other news, I got my ass handed to me in class today. Guruji is so freaking intimidating and I'm at the bottom of the totem pole here. Everyone around me is about 2000 times more advanced and I know that I am granted some concessions because I'm new and have little background, but there is still an intense amount of pressure I feel when all my peers are listening to me or when we are called on to sing alone. It's rare, but this morning each student was asked to sing a pretty high note. I've hit the note before, I know the note, I sing it almost every day in practice. But today, I failed. And big. My heartbeat was ringing in my ears and after trying for it 4 times, I couldn't even hear the note I was supposed to hit anymore. By the end, was I even in the ballpark? I have no idea. I think my teacher eventually made me stop because he realized there was no chance I was going to get it today so he had mercy and/or couldn't bear the torture of my shrill, quivering, off-pitch voice anymore. It wasn't cute, trust me.

me: this is the hardest thing i've ever done.
noah: well keep doing it and then you can call it the greatest accomplishment of your life. which would be awesome, because greatest accomplishments of lives are hard to come by these days.

*sigh* I have so much work to do. Miles and miles to go.
But I'm thankful for that, too.

shelley

p.s. left something crucial off my list yesterday: sushi! oh, philly roll, how I would love to eat you right now.

Caution: Do Not Open if Hungry

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 19:32:00 +0000

I didn't have the usual nostalgias I have at the 1 month away-from-home mark here in India. But now, almost 4 months later, I'm feeling it at little bit.

Excerpts from a previous entry:

The food here, at the school, is really delish. While I'm in a grand city with lots of international chains, the food that's cooked at the school is very traditional, simple, home-style cuisine.

[A]s some of you may know, the 30 day mark is usually pretty significant for me (as I wrote about from Mexico and also from Thailand). I usually start missing food back home, the variety of cuisine, and -- with the exception of Mexico -- every other place I've been for 30 days always, without fail, leaves me craving cheese. And if I'm not missing the comforts of home, I'm at least thinking about it.

But this time is different. I'm not yet missing cheese so far (thanks in part to Domino's, I guess) and I'm not missing home-cooked Indian food, obviously.

Maybe in a little while I'll be singing a different tune...

Right. So, here's me singing a different tune. The food here is simple, but spicy and a little mundane. I really can't have the same cuisine 3 meals a day (dosas in the morning, daal/chaawal in the afternoon, and again in the evening) -- it's too much! I showed up in India practically having filled my daal quota for a lifetime, so you can imagine how I feel about being served the lentils so regularly. So I've been looking for alternatives. I supplement my evening meals with fresh fruit every day and recently started adding some fresh veggies, too. Nothing fancy like what we'd call a "salad" back home, but just cukes and tomatoes with salt and pepper. Even that makes everything taste better.

I've also tried to explore and find some decent western-ish joints to toss it up a bit. And I've found just that - Western-ish.

Sure, Pizza Hut, Dominoes, and McDonald's taste close enough. Their menus are a little different (like the McAloo Tikki Burger or Chicken Maharaja Mac at McDonald's), but the fries and the coke, and the smell of the places is the same. You could say it feels like home, but I don't really frequent those restaurants back home, so they're hardly comforting. Instead, I'm missing a fresh salad with balsamic vinaigrette, avocados, and pecans. Or fettuccine with pesto sauce and freshly grated parmesan. Or fake meat - fake chicken tenders and Texas Pete hot sauce, Morningstar Farms Grillers Prime veggie burgers, or fake salami. Fresh Brushetta. Basil. Watercress & arugula. Romaine lettuce. Or baked ziti. Foccacia bread. Radius Pizza on Mt. Pleasant St. The Cecilia at Tryst. Flying Biscuit cheese grits. Fresh salsa (like Sheena taught me to make). Enchilada night at Vikas and Preeti's place including their fresh guacamole dip & awesome nacho tray. Ben's Chilli Bowl's Chilli Half Smoke. A cup of coffee with cream instead of milk or whip cream. Cinnamon in my coffee. Squash that's not prepared with indian masalas. Peach Yogurt. Black Bean dip. Olive tampanade. Macaroni with unprocessed cheese. Ethiopian Food. Bibimbap or chop chae from Adam's Express. Fresh Spinach. Pine nuts. Blackened fish. Papusas. Sauerkraut. Chinese Stir Fry but without indian spices.
I could really go on, but I think it's time to stop. You get the idea plus my stomach is kind of grumbling.

The main problem is that I go to restaurants which have some of this stuff on the menu, like Italian or Chinese, but in every single instance, I've been let down. My problem is that I go in with all kinds of expectations like a "California Caesar Salad" might taste familiar. But no, it's not: it's old iceberg lettuce drenched in processed dressing with extra-fried croutons and no cheese to boot. In a future post, I'd like to explore all the ways that I find Mumbai incredibly...Indian, even though it seems to boast progressiveness and international appeal. But in my experience, here "International" is defined by American, and mainstream American at that. They're missing some nuances just yet, and that doesn't just go for food.

I'll keep exploring, but I have to start reigning in my expectations just a little bit. Really, it's fine and it hasn't been all terrible. It's not that I don't like it, it's just that I was just expecting something different here.

Here's how I explained it to my Indian friend:

Imagine that you picked up and went to the US and you were all alone. About 90% of the day you were speaking English, which you're not used to but you can manage, and everyone you met was so...American. And all you wanted was a good, tasty, Indian meal. Just one meal a week would do it to give you that taste of home and some sense of security. But every Indian restaurant or every chain from back home you went to was good...but just didn't quite cut it. So close, but not close enough. Like they'd use oregano instead of cilantro (dhania). Or you could tell the ingredients weren't fresh. Or it just lacked that masala or that chutney that used to give everything back home that finger-licking मस्त चटपटा flavor.

My friend looked at me with a face that said "geez, that would suck." Welcome to my world, friend.

But if this much access to pani puri and chat at the beach means fewer spots that serve authentic stuffed tortellini, then I am so ok with that.
shelley

p.s. photo above is courtesy of bonnie and our blog, string fever. Have you been checking it recently? 'Cause we've been updating.

photo essay and unrelated quote

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 18:09:00 +0000

In case you're in the mood to give up foie gras forever -- and maybe even meat in general -- and/or in the mood to see top notch photojournalism, check out this moving and utterly gorgeous photo essay by Mike Belleme.

Also, rediscovered this quote after some time from Yael (thanks!). I was also talking about Rilke this afternoon with Vikram when we were at an artsy bookshop at the historic Prithvi Theater. Funny I stumbled on this today:

“People have already had to rethink so many concepts of motion; and they will also gradually come to realize that what we call fate does not come into us from the outside, but emerges from us. It is only because so many people have not absorbed and transformed their fates while they were living in them that they have not realized what was emerging from them; it was so alien to them that they have not realized what was emerging from them; it was so alien to them that, in their confusion and fear, they thought it must have entered them at the very moment they became aware of it, for they swore they had never before found anything like that inside them. Just as people for a long time had a wrong idea about the sun’s motion, they are even now wrong about the motion of what is to come.” –Ranier Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet (1929)

peace,
shelley

I'm feeling better...and so international

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 09:33:00 +0000

Hi all,
I'm doing much much better so thanks for all the overseas love that you sent.

Speaking of overseas...recently a handful of friends have contacted me who are now living/studying/working abroad. Helen is in Indonesia; Shannon is moving to Cambodia this month (both are on Princeton in Asia fellowships); Tiffany & Jennifer are in Korea teaching English; Rajeev is studying in London; Andrew will be studying in India in the spring...

Those are just the friends who have reached out to me, although I suspect there are a lot more people I'm not in touch with who have wandered out of their home countries. I wouldn't call myself an expat since I've only been gone 3 months (+ 3 weeks + 1 day) but still, something about being able to say I'm living abroad sends a tingle up my spine. Like I'm part of an "in" group I've wanted to join for a long long time.

feels good.
s

p.s. if you're somewhere "out there" hit me up!

On Feeling Sick

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 19:54:00 +0000

I have been feeling totally gross for the past 14 days. I've had the flu complete with body ache, fever, sore throat, and more. I'm beginning to think that since the symptoms have lasted for so long that maybe I was afflicted with some type of [insert animal here] flu. bird? swine? who knows. And if diseases can be spread via bad smells, then there's plenty of that around here too.

I'm getting better, though, and now I'm down to just a head cold but I can't stop sniffing. And yesterday, I sort of fell...on my bum...down the stairs. Trust me, it wasn't cute or graceful and I've had a wicked headache and back ache ever since.

Coupled with the head cold, I've been kind of uncomfortable (not as miserable as I was when I was sweating with fever and inhaling fumes from the ongoing construction in the building last week), but still mildly uncomfy. And missing mom's food. And finding it hard to sing. As I said to a friend via email, "being sick, abroad, alone is basically the loneliest thing I've experienced so far."

I still love India though. Definitely love India.
shelley

Out on the Town

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 10:29:00 +0000

Since diwali, I've been out "on the town" a few times experiencing the other side of Mumbai (which I've often heard about) and it's been very very fun. I was so meant to be here.

Meet Vikram:

Vikram is my cousin, Vivek's good friend who lives in Mumbai. He's always keeping me posted on cool happenings in Mumbai. He's also one of the nicest people I've ever met which compensates for his rash driving habits. :-)

He works for Airtel (one of the largest telecom companies in the world I recently learned) and he invited me to a corporate marketing event. Basically, to get the word out about the release of their new car, the Xylo, along with a big radio station and a famous radio jockey, Mahendra (big car company) held the "Time of Your Life" Karaoke singing competition in 21 corporate offices around Mumbai and chose one winner from each office. Then, they invited all the contestants and their friends to this swanky club and held the finals. The winner got a trip to Italy for 4 days. So, needless to say, we're not talking about a small event which few resources were poured into. Instead, we're talking about the kind of event I imagine Ford might put on in New York City. It was so incredibly western, I could hardly believe it. The place reminded me a lot of the club, Vision, in Atlanta (anyone know that place?? can I get a what what!). Starting from the very marketing concept right down to the decor and the songs that folks were singing (Elvis songs, "When you Say Nothing At All," etc.) it was about as Western as anything I'd expect back home except that there were a lot more black-haired folks. Here's a couple of pics so you get a feel for what I'm talking about:

Aseem (pictured above) is Vikram's collegue who was in the competition from Airtel. When I asked him what got him interested in singing, he said, "Umm...not sure. I take a shower every day I guess is how." Brilliant answer! I can relate.

Another night out was to a club called Hawaiian Shack. For you non-facebookers, here's a few pics:

Again, Vikram, who is my main source to most fun outtings in Mumbai, invited me out with his friends. I sort of scandalously snuck out to see what a real club in Mumbai is like. Some random observations:

Whoa, there are other women here -- native Indians in fact -- who have short hair! I felt some solidarity. Also, they had the most amazing playlist which took me back home. Songs/artists included "Best Days of my Life," "I Will Survive," Journey (this band is determined to follow me around the world no matter how far/hard I try and run from it), The Eagles, & Nelly Furtado. And even more surprisingly, everyone knew all the words to the songs. I haven't been to tons of clubs back home, but the scene here isn't all that different: the girls are wearing a lot of the same type of skimpy attire, and they're constantly adjusting their uncomfortable tops and tossing their hair from one side to the other. Y'all know the scene, right. One thing that is different, however, is that the men seemed relatively civilized. I'm told that it's because we're in Mumbai, not Delhi, but I think that in general, it's much less acceptable to walk up to a woman and hit on her or grind up against her, so people were refreshingly well-behaved compared to what I'm used to seeing at clubs back home. They also had a Nirvana poster on the wall. Love it. Haven't seen or heard about them even once since being here except from my own ipod so that was cool.

In general, it was great to get out and meet some cool new friends, Vikas and Ashwini!, and check out the young, Mumbai social scene. I could fit in for sure.

Finally, here's a pic from one other recent night out in Mumbai. Vikram to the rescue again! We went with a handful of friends to The Hard Rock Cafe which, apparently, is the same here as anywhere else in the world. The other two places I just mentioned at least had some Mumbai flavor, if only a little. But with HRC, if I were blindfolded and dropped off there, I wouldn't know which city or country I was in even by the number of Indians since there were so many farangis. The decor was...well, you probably have an idea. Here's a couple of pics anyway.

It was fun, though. I liked seeing the Tom Petty guitars and homages to Tina Turner, Janis Joplin, John Lennon, and others. I miss that stuff a little bit at the music school.

Yesterday I went to see a movie for the first time since being here. Finally, right? I'm in Mumbai for goodness sake, movie making capital of the world. I saw London Dreams which was incredible for the first half. But then, after the intermission, it got all, well, "bollywood." Not sure what I was expecting.
Here's a couple of songs from the film although sorry the second vid is the song only (not available on RSS; see original post). Sona - I'm trying to keep you up to date!

But as for the experience in general, it was lovely. The theater was gorgeous, plush seats (assigned seating here which was interesting. Otherwise, as Vikram told me, people would bum rush the theater for the best seats in the house), and nice decor. They have caramel popcorn here (awesome!) as well as nachos and the rest. The drink cups aren't nearly as big as back home which is probably a good thing. On the whole, I liked it, but I remember going to movies here as a kid and the floor wasn't carpeted and there were guys whistling at each heroine who came on screen. Missed that a little...

I'm back to serious singing these days though so there will be a lot less going out.
shelley

Random Updates

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 17:43:00 +0000

Hi Everyone! For you non-facebookers, here are some pics from Diwali (if you're catching this through an RSS feed, check out this post online)

For many families in India, Diwali is a time to get new clothes or household goods which you've been saving up for all year. Well, not that I needed an excuse to wander around the markets since I can basically do that all day everyday, but I too treated myself with some goodies.
Hey, when in Rome..., right? So I went out the market and bought myself...

a fruit bowl! and...

a new door mat! and...

Our hall had the most broke-ass, saddest phone, so for a whopping $4.26, I invested in the most fly phone I think I've ever seen and then came home and decorated it even more.

Ever seen a bright yellow plaid phone? I didn't think so. :)

Other randomness:

Here's a pic of me sitting in my window skyping on Diwali

Even though I've been sick for the last week or so and I hear it might be from eating out, I'm still as keen on going out and eating from all the little stands and eateries as I was before. Can't let a little flu come between me and my juice-wallah. I'm strongly considering choosing the next city I live in based on availability of good Indian street tasties. :)

Juice from my favorite Juice stand. Here we have watermelon and mausumbi which we don't even have back home. Sheesh, America, get with it.

My fave dairy where we go and get "Masala milk," e.g. the most delish flavored milk.

Finally, a pic of the happiest blogger you've ever read.

love,
shelley

Who's Indian? I'm Indian!

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 12:12:00 +0000

Hi all,
I haven't really blogged about my birthday yet and my parents' trip although I posted pics here in case you missed them. Basically, I hung out with a long list of celebs on my birthday including Suresh Ji (my guruji), Dhanraj Pillay (a superstar hockey player who I met during the Atlanta Olympics when he came with the India team), Johnny Lever (hilarious comedian), Sonu Sood (actor who looks surprisingly exactly the same in real life as on screen), & Debu & Richa Bhattacharya (actors and family friends. Side note: I watched bits of Debu's films with him like Dev-D, Mangal Pandey, and Goal and it was fascinating watching a film while sitting next to the actor. He provided all kinds of interesting insights.)

It was really overwhelming that so many people took time out of their day to wish me a happy birthday. I felt so humbled because these folks are big wigs - they have busy lives and important things to do but they were so sincere.

Best of all was that my parents were here, of course. When they came, I'd already been living in Mumbai for 2 months which was enough to get my bearings and feel comfortable getting around in the city and learn how to manage myself in India in general. We don't get out too often as students, but...let's just say I manage. ;-) For me, the best part of my parents coming was that I could show them around my neighborhood, my territory. We spent some time doing some sightseeing and even had a cup of tea at the famous Taj Hotel, but my favorite part was schlepping them around and showing them all of my hangouts. Obviously that included Juhu Beach where I go for my daily walks, favorite restaurants, my fruit stand guy, my milk guy, the nearby post office, etc. I was the one flagging down the auto rickshaws, giving directions, ordering food, and just getting us around in general. It was all me!

I had some interesting conversations with them, too. I will always be in awe of that great immigrant narrative where people pick up and leave everything they've ever known for...adventure, education, a better life, family, whatever. My dad once told me that back in the 60s and 70s when my parents came to the US to study, it was as if they were leaving India and headed for the moon since it felt so far off. My mom didn't speak to her mom for the first 6 years after she moved, a reality which is practically impossible for me to understand since technology has been available my whole life. Having conversations about what they left behind and how much things have changed is endlessly fascinating for me.

"So, Mom and Dad, what's it like being back? Don't you totally miss this??" (as we're stepping over trash and watching a guy spit up some very odd-colored mucous right at my feet - totally gross but I just love it so much, I can't contain myself). I don't blame them for feeling like the US is home now. It'll always be home for me, too, but right now (and I think for a long time still) India is home. My soul is peaceful and unagitated here.

Indeed, it was a strange sensation to be the one dragging my folks around India. I think they were happy to see how content I finally am. I know that there were many times when I first got here when all I wanted was a friend to relate to - just one! But I didn't have that, and looking back, I'm kind of glad because I can claim the success of getting established all for myself and no one can take that from me. Taking my parents around, I even felt a tinge of pride because I proved (I think) that in a way, I've made it here. I can get around, I can handle myself. I know my stuff.

And all by my grownup self.
In so many ways, I have arrived. At home. At last.

shelley

street food

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 18:51:00 +0000

IS MY FAVORITE!!!!

and i ate so much of it today too. I can't get enough. Today alone, I went out with friends and we munched on all sorts of stuff together. I had paani puri twice, ragada pattis with 4 types of chutney, a veg mayo sandwich, watermelon juice, and a mixed fruit plate with chaat masala...mmmmmmmm.

What? I can't help myself. Plus, it's Diwaali season so anything goes. (Ahem, I just created that rule, but I'm sticking with it till the end of the month or until my stomach starts protesting, whichever comes first.)

India, don't leave me and I won't leave you either.
love
s

me, most days

noreply@blogger.com (shellEy) — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 17:50:00 +0000

I'm freaking thrilled to be alive. This is me, most days.

I realize that in a recent post, I was wavering about my commitment to being here. It's true, I don't always enjoy every challenge of being at Ajivasan (the music school). But the "here" that I'm wholly overjoyed about is India. It's this country that makes me drop to my knees every day and wonder how I've accumulated such good karma. It must be on the scale of Oskar Schindler or something because I keep coming back to this blog and trying to capture how my heart feels here, and I can't seem to find the words to describe how happy it makes me.

I'm super happy. On cloud nine happy. Vanilla ice cream after no-sugar for lent happy. Reconnecting with an old friend happy. Getting snail mail happy. Singing in the rain happy. Reading a book with a shawl happy. Bubble bath after a long day happy. Deep breath happy. Cheese grits from flying biscuit happy. Lounging around on a Sunday afteroon outside when it's 72 degrees and sunny happy. Sneaking out and not getting caught happy. Camping and roasting marshmallows happy. Sipping on La Fin du Monde happy. Hearing your favorite song on the radio happy. Walking in grass barefoot happy. Shaking the hand of God happy.

I guess there are a lot of different happies I feel here. I can keep trying to describe it and relating it to other experiences, but in the end, there's just the one kind of happy that I can't seem to explain. You know what I'm talking about, right? The one where your heart is physically bursting with contentedness, and you don't want to be anywhere else because you know that this is exactly where you were meant to be in this spot, on this day, in this moment. And the only word you can think of to define it is...happy.