Today is Muslim festival day of Eid, when they slice the throats of goats outside, in sacrifice. It is a sight to see, and something that would never take place in the US outside, in let’s say, the parking lot of Jefferson Commons. The Islamic people here also have Addan, which is a prayer offering made throughout the day on a loud speaker. It is something that always catches me off guard here, but something I get used to eventually during my stay. I really appreciate how passionate people here are about their religion. Of course, it can always be a starting point for conflict, but people here seem to respect each others worship practices, at least at the present time.
This city is full of different religions and you can see visual representation of all of them, whether is a crucifix, sardojee (guys with turbans) or traditional Islamic dress, with the women covered and the men wearing the white robe and hat, which I'm not sure what they are called. I wish there was more tolerance for other religions in the US, even though were supposed to have separation between church and state. People in general are just closed minded about faith I think, and a lot of misconceptions are held by the ignorant.
Last night was my cousins wedding, and it was one wild night full of boos, dancing, fighting, and more drinking. I would like to describe my movement on the dance floor, similar to Vince Vaughn in "The Wedding Crashers" and I suspect a few ladies in attendance would agree. My first time "jiving" and swing dancing, and I think I've got it down to a science.
Unfortunately, some guys took the movie too seriously, and decided to try there luck gate crashing and making moves on the younger girls at the reception. One of the girls happened to be my 15 year old cousin and ended in a bloody fight between my uncles, and these idiots. I heard stories about how tough my uncles were in their youth, and how they were over protective of their 6 younger sisters, but last night I saw this first hand, and the guys that messed with their daughters will spend a few weeks contemplating their mistake while their wounds heal from getting punched, kicked, and smacked. My uncle from Australia, who is probably the hot head of the 4 had this guy by the throat when I got there to help, and was saying "why did you touch my daughter" and smacking him in the face over and over. My uncle Ozzie, who’s about 5 ft 3, but as touch as nails gave some guy a pounding, and I had to pull him off because his daughter begged me to, out of fear that he would kill the guy. It was extremely intense, and I've never seen anything like it.
I had mixed feelings about the fight. I was proud that my uncles stood up for their daughters like they did, and I would hope to do the same if put in that position someday, but I felt bad for the married couple to have such a thing happen on their wedding day, after so much preparation. The night ended on a good note however, with the custom festival songs played, more traditional Goan dancing and a few whiskeys with my uncles to close out the bar. . It was good to see most of my D'Mello family at the wedding toowe had a blast during our time together yesterday as well.
Tonight is the 3rd and final celebration for the wedding, and will be a final party, with our family and Jassir, the groom’s family. (The first night was just our family, the second was the wedding) I am expected to entertain everyone with a few songs on the guitar, and have selected the song Mr. Jones as my encore.
"Someboy gonna get a hurtin real bad" is from the India comedian Russell Peters stand up act on comedy central. I highly recommend seeing this guy, he is hilarious.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Namaste
It’s my 4th morning watching the sunrise in Bombay, India, and I have to admit, this city has beaten me to it consistently. I’m not certain if my unusually early wake in this city is because of the jet lag, from being 12 hours ahead of the US, or from my excitement for what each day has to bring out here. Unlike the people on the street, I'm fortunate not to have routine to stick to, but on the other hand, I’m not the one trying to get by in a once exploited third world country soon becoming one of the top global nations of commerce.
Even at 7 am you hear the traffic starting to develop, and car horns honking and motorcycle engines purring. There aren’t any defined traffic rules here, and a lot of the cars don’t have side mirrors, since they will often pack a 2 lane road with 5 vehicles wide, scratching the sides of cars and breaking of mirrors. Drivers depend on sounds of horns to let them know if they are getting passed. Crossing the road in traffic is also an experience, as you just walk and hope that the car will stop like it has every time before. If you don’t, then you will be standing for quite along time. oh, and the cars don't usually have brake lights or anything like that either, because the taxi drivers think things like that will use more of their fuel in the cars.
These people will find each and every way to make a buck in this city, and are quite successful at it. Even the street venders, selling pirated DVD’s and Rolex’s are incredibly street smart, watching and observing each of the thousands of people that walk by every few minutes, and approaching the ones most likely to buy their ripped of, inferior products. Once contact is made, it goes straight to bargaining, which I find ridiculously hilarious. So much theatrics and emotions go into this part of the interaction, yelling and walking away, coming back, throwing arms in the air, it’s really peculiar to watch. And the amount bargained for, could be converted into a mere US$.50 cents. It’s just how things are done over here; even my ailing 75 year old grandma will do this to the venders that come to sell her stuff in her flat. She screams at them, threatens to get up and whack them, even though she can hardly stand, all for a few extra shrimps for the same price. You gotta be tough to survive in this city.
At the very micro level of my experience so far here, I am touched by the humbleness and sincerity of the people I have been with over here. They are generous beyond belief with the few possessions they have. (This is ironic considering the bargaining that they do otherwise) They are willing to accommodate up to 20 people, in these little 1 bedroom apartments. I have been honored to sleep on the floor in these peoples homes; they treat their guests like royalty with what they have to offer. My Aunt made crabs the other day for dinner, and I was having a tough time eating them, because of the shells, and my younger cousin cleaned all her crabs from the shells and gave it to me upon seeing me struggle. They are very affectionate people. We all walked this same cousin to her school, which is an all girl’s catholic school where they have to wear uniforms and wear their hair in pigtails. Even though I did everything possible to embarrass her in front of her school friends, in which I would have run away red in the face at her age, she was so proud to have me there.
To take a bath in these homes like my grandmother's who I call Nana, you have to boil a pot of hot water, put it in a bucket, fill up the rest with cold water from the tap, and use a mug to wash yourselves in a tiny bathroom with no bath or shower curtain. Each person gets a limited amount of water, and must be very conservative in using it. When you go to the "chemist" (which is like a convenient store) and order a coke, a little boy will follow you around until you finish the drink, to collect the bottle and bring it back to the store to get the deposit for it. When you eat out in a restaurant, or buy clothes in a store, there are 5 people serving you during your visit.
The wedding is in only a few days, and today is the "Rose" which is a pre-wedding tradition for both sides of the family. We poor coconut milk and break eggs on the bride and maid of honor, and sing and dance all night to festive songs here. I am learning how to jive and swing dance, so I won’t look like an idiot at the wedding, which unfortunately has happened a few times at parties here so far I fear. Even when you amongst family here, in a small living room, these people will get up, put there favorite songs on, and start dancing, jiving, singing and enjoying life. It’s a totally different experience than I’m used to, and am damn glad I’ve been exposed to it. Its now time for breakfast, since the bread man has just arrived. Still much more to talk about.
Even at 7 am you hear the traffic starting to develop, and car horns honking and motorcycle engines purring. There aren’t any defined traffic rules here, and a lot of the cars don’t have side mirrors, since they will often pack a 2 lane road with 5 vehicles wide, scratching the sides of cars and breaking of mirrors. Drivers depend on sounds of horns to let them know if they are getting passed. Crossing the road in traffic is also an experience, as you just walk and hope that the car will stop like it has every time before. If you don’t, then you will be standing for quite along time. oh, and the cars don't usually have brake lights or anything like that either, because the taxi drivers think things like that will use more of their fuel in the cars.
These people will find each and every way to make a buck in this city, and are quite successful at it. Even the street venders, selling pirated DVD’s and Rolex’s are incredibly street smart, watching and observing each of the thousands of people that walk by every few minutes, and approaching the ones most likely to buy their ripped of, inferior products. Once contact is made, it goes straight to bargaining, which I find ridiculously hilarious. So much theatrics and emotions go into this part of the interaction, yelling and walking away, coming back, throwing arms in the air, it’s really peculiar to watch. And the amount bargained for, could be converted into a mere US$.50 cents. It’s just how things are done over here; even my ailing 75 year old grandma will do this to the venders that come to sell her stuff in her flat. She screams at them, threatens to get up and whack them, even though she can hardly stand, all for a few extra shrimps for the same price. You gotta be tough to survive in this city.
At the very micro level of my experience so far here, I am touched by the humbleness and sincerity of the people I have been with over here. They are generous beyond belief with the few possessions they have. (This is ironic considering the bargaining that they do otherwise) They are willing to accommodate up to 20 people, in these little 1 bedroom apartments. I have been honored to sleep on the floor in these peoples homes; they treat their guests like royalty with what they have to offer. My Aunt made crabs the other day for dinner, and I was having a tough time eating them, because of the shells, and my younger cousin cleaned all her crabs from the shells and gave it to me upon seeing me struggle. They are very affectionate people. We all walked this same cousin to her school, which is an all girl’s catholic school where they have to wear uniforms and wear their hair in pigtails. Even though I did everything possible to embarrass her in front of her school friends, in which I would have run away red in the face at her age, she was so proud to have me there.
To take a bath in these homes like my grandmother's who I call Nana, you have to boil a pot of hot water, put it in a bucket, fill up the rest with cold water from the tap, and use a mug to wash yourselves in a tiny bathroom with no bath or shower curtain. Each person gets a limited amount of water, and must be very conservative in using it. When you go to the "chemist" (which is like a convenient store) and order a coke, a little boy will follow you around until you finish the drink, to collect the bottle and bring it back to the store to get the deposit for it. When you eat out in a restaurant, or buy clothes in a store, there are 5 people serving you during your visit.
The wedding is in only a few days, and today is the "Rose" which is a pre-wedding tradition for both sides of the family. We poor coconut milk and break eggs on the bride and maid of honor, and sing and dance all night to festive songs here. I am learning how to jive and swing dance, so I won’t look like an idiot at the wedding, which unfortunately has happened a few times at parties here so far I fear. Even when you amongst family here, in a small living room, these people will get up, put there favorite songs on, and start dancing, jiving, singing and enjoying life. It’s a totally different experience than I’m used to, and am damn glad I’ve been exposed to it. Its now time for breakfast, since the bread man has just arrived. Still much more to talk about.
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