Vannakkam, Tambi!

Welcome, Little Brother!

Magda and I were so excited to pick up Joey from the airport with our special sign. Clearly the other passengers were jealous, and the multitude of families waiting for their loved ones were confused.

Day One.

We began Joey's first Chennice day with a drive through the chaos that is also my everyday life.

I wanted to show Joey a slice of life. Having a new pair of eyes in the auto rickshaw next to me reminded me that even my morning commute is quite lively. I am loving the perspective refresher and am noticing things that I have forgotten are foreign.

Things like the political graffiti on the walls, the myriad of bikers on the roads with lines that no one ever pays attention to, the always bright sunshine, the mysteries floating in sordid puddles, the men peeing on the side of the road, the extra green lonely trees springing up every now and then in the midst of a dirty, cracked road.

I love the motion of the city Joey captured in this photo, taken out of our auto rickshaw.

After an exciting-ly normal drive, we reached our destination: Parrys Corner. An area of town criss-crossed with tiny streets and tinier shops selling everything from office paper to Christmas lights to eye glasses to fresh produce to motorcycles to cleaning supplies to carpets to...you get the idea.

Yes, Joey is really here.

Joey's first South Indian Coffee. Equal parts sugar, steaming milk, instant coffee -- and stares.

Taking in the sights. You could stand in one place for awhile.

Another common sight: me standing on the street looking lost, getting directions, staying lost, getting directions again. Even after almost eleven months (wow).

I love this city for what you find in the details. Like crumbling architectural details -- bits of brick, peeling colors and once-regal windows.

Joey loves the fashionably old turquoise bikes.

Stay posted. Our adventures are just beginning.

Harvest Time

A new season has come -- but not the one with orange-y red colors and pumpkin flavored muffins and spiced lattes. The Monsoon Season has come, with dangerous puddles and enhanced humidity and extra loads of laundry. Despite the past month's busyness (and the fact that there is not a Fall breeze in the city), we decided to create the Autumnal spirit right here in Kipling Place. So Nicolette and I opened our specially-saved cans of pumpkin (mailed all the way from the America Place) and whipped of a deceptively harvesty feast. Then we cranked the A/C and I put on my best Fall-colored scarf to host a fabulous Harvest Party.

There were a few added challenges (in addition to not having Pillsbury crust for my mini pumpkin pies, successfully baked in our tiny toaster over).

Throwing a dinner party for 25+ means visiting at least three grocery stores. Nilgris for the bulk of it, Nuts & Spices for the speciality items (like olives, feta and, well, good nuts and spices) and Evergreen for the missed produce (like cilantro and bananas). As I mentioned, the Monsoon rains have come. The Monsoon rains are sudden then steady. The best thing to do when they come is: embrace them. So Saturday morning was extra adventurous, riding on the back of the Blue Wonder with slippery armfuls of groceries, to and fro store to house, store to house, store our house.

Meanwhile, our house was the site of an impromptu business meeting between half a dozen South Asian businessmen and our three amigos (brother and his friends of one of my dear friends who crashed at our place on their business venture travels throughout India). The meeting was rescheduled and moved to our cozy living room due to rain, of course. The more the merrier.

And then there was the sink problem. We woke up that morning to discover that instead of running through the drain, any drop (or deluge) of water spilled directly onto our kitchen floor. So we washed the dishes -- a lot of dishes, a lot of times -- in my shower. And we washed the fruits and vegetables -- a lot of fruits and a lot of vegetables -- in my shower. It was a little weird to direct guests to my bathroom if they needed to use the loo, or wanted to wash a fork to reuse for pumpkin bread.

Step One: Scrub the produce. No parasites please.

Step Two: Dry the herbs. Yes, that is my bedroom.

Step Three: Prepare the Harvest (and attempt* to repair the sink).

Repeat this Step Throughout: Wash dishes. In Shower.

Enjoy the fruit of our labour: Harvest Party!

*FYI, the sink is now repaired. The very next day we discovered two dirty rags shoved into the base of the drain pipe. We are not sure how they got there, but we are glad they are gone. Big thanks to Jay, David and Rob for their assistance fixing the sink, washing the dishes and -- most of all -- appreciating the favorite feeling of Fall.

Link to an update

I'm starting to wonder if Daylight Savings affected us over in South Asia after all, stealing away some of our hours! Life has been busy lately, as I'm sure is the case no matter where you are in the world.

I will be able to share more later, but here's a link where you can see some photos I took and read about a very recent, ongoing, case. Please do read, and join my colleagues and me in prayer.

It's a small world after all

A few months ago, a group from a local womens college came to our office looking for an expatriate woman to speak during their international conference on "the feminine mystique." The recruiters kindly refused to let me decline this offer, latching onto the comment I had off-handedly made about studying various structures of the so-called "feminine mystique" in my Gender Studies of South Asia class. I think I wrote one essay on the topic. The flattering academics even went so far as to woo me with accolades and named me their "youth icon." How could I turn down such an opportunity? So I agreed (and enjoyed) speaking about women who had inspired me by shattering gender expectations and challenging norms. I spoke of women in my country, like Rosa Parks, who had stood up for herself, for women and for men. I spoke of the women I have observed and met in my short time here, a visitor in a very complex place. The women who courageously raise up themselves and their families in freedom, after release from years and years of bonded labor slavery.

I typed up an email to explain this bizarre (but lovely) speaking opportunity to my former professor who actually knows more than a thing or two about the feminine mystique. I began with a brief summary of where I was and what I was doing. About an hour later, I got an email that started off "WOW!" and went on to say that she was in the city RIGHT NOW. She named the hotel and a few hours later my roommate and I were sitting at table sharing a Kingfisher with Dr. Nair. We got to hear all about the fascinating research she was a part of, and I learned that a group of Furmanites would be passing through as part of their study abroad travels around South Asia.

Fast forward to today (Happy All Souls Day, by the way). My colleague, Hephzibah, and I traveled to a college campus on the outskirts off the city, to give an IJM and Bonded Labor presentation to a fabulous group of Furman students. It was somewhat strange to be on the other side of the wooden desks and pens poised over blank notebooks, especially since Dr. Nair was among the attentive crowd. But it was a great presentation, full of questions and answers, which are always better than slides and talking points.

Can you spot the Furman alumn?

P.S. One other small world moment -- last week Dr. Nair sent me an email from Kerala and said she had run into an IJM group, including our President and the Regional Director who said he'd hired me, at a harbor in a very small town. They were en route to visit our office. Sometimes I like it when the world feels small.