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.

Good Busy

We have officially reached the last quarter of 2009, and the beginning of the rush to plan 2010. The time to scramble towards year-end targets and meet annual goals. The time to review budgets and finish filing systems. The time to start thinking ahead to what new projects await and how old projects need to be revived and if existing projects will continue. I've been spending most of the alert waking moments at the office for the past week or so. (I'll blame my blog-silence on that. By the time I leave my messy desk, my eyes are begging for a break from the computer screen and my creative energy would rather direct itself to an endeavor other than the written word -- like eating food cooked by my flatmate (thank God for people who unwind by cooking up a storm) or hitting the town to follow around our favorite Hip Hop DJ's for some dancing.)

In the midst of all this busyness, much of which is restricted to the confines of Microsoft Word Documents and A4 sized paper, I must intentionally remind myself of the people--both my colleagues and our clients--behind the goals and targets; the real lives represented by the numbers and statistics; the invaluable relationships simply recorded in the files. Remembering, and investing in, these people, lives and relationships takes a lot of time and energy. But that's the good kind of Busy.

A couple of weeks ago, I was witness, and part, of a day that sustains me through the mundane yet overwhelming tasks of long work weeks like this one. I had the once again amazing opportunity to document a day of Freedom. The IJM team partnered with local government officials to rescue ten people from slavery. The patriarch of the bunch and his wife had three small children plus two married children living with their spouses and working for the same rock quarry owner. The middleaged couple had been bonded labor slaves for fifteen years. Please read the story on IJM's website, currently the top story in the Casework Bulletin.

So Hot Right Now

Sometimes, South Asia doesn't know quite how cool it is. Take Coconut water for instance, piles of irregular shaped ovals taking over many a street corner and prompting every third person (or thirtieth, but there are so many you'd blink and miss 27 of them) to stop and sip. A couple of weeks ago, I came across this article in the NYTimes. Apparently Coconut water is all the rage in Brooklyn. You could pay $2 to $4 in Brooklyn, or you could come visit me and pay 20 to 40 cents.

Trend Setter, on the side of Spur Tank Road.

A Happy Day

This week I had my favorite kind of work day -- one spent with IJM's "clients," individuals who are former victims of forced labor and are now living free lives. No matter how many cases I review or write about, every time I meet the subjects of these stories I am humbled and inspired. This particular family has a powerful story, before, during and after the salt mine where they were coaxed to come and earn an allegedly good salary, educate their children. One hundred percent of their "salary" was paid to one local shop, where they were forced to buy all food and necessary provisions. The school where they were promised education literally shut down two days after their arrival; the preteen daughter forced to work alongside adults raking and spreading salt. When IJM first met her, her feet were scarred with boils and her hopes were flat. When I spent the day with her, her feet walked around a zoo in the city and jumped rope, spirits soaring.

I hope to share more of their story someday soon. For now, I leave you with a (lighthearted) photo of me and a deer. That's right, here, deer like people, daytime and. I think the only thing more amazing than petting a deer in the two-wheeler parking lot were the confused looks on the family's faces as they wondered at my wonderment.

Apparently, this is normal.

I guess it makes sense that Bambi likes popcorn...
Did you know that peacocks spread their glorious feathers and dance when it is going to rain? As if I needed another reason to love my favorite animal.