It's been a long long time since I wrote. But it's good to stare at the whiteboard again. And to write. Though it's tougher too. Another Bihu come and gone. Another year that the festival is spent with some form of the Assamese diaspora. Far away from Assam and most of my family. But this second year in a row, it will also be with the newest part of my Indo-American family--Will. The part that anchors me to the US even as the chapter that led me here, ends. But more about that in another post.
Bihus and maybe all festivals have some common traits wherever you are in the world. You wear dazzling clothes, typically eat everything on display and talk loudly even while the speaker or performer desperately tries to get your attention. The women, for the most part end up looking great. I am still trying to figure out why Indian women look so much better than Indian men. Another thought for another post. And as much as I love cultural colours, the one thing that is boring is the 'cultural function' prelim to each Indian gathering anywhere in the world! And two hours of that--is always fun. And the weirdness of Assamese one-upness. You sit at the same table but wait for the other person to start the conversation. Odd, odd, odd!
Am not going to be disjoint, so just signing off from this post. More in the next one.
Saturday, 30 April 2011
Sunday, 10 January 2010
An Omani beach
Try thinking of the blue sea, maybe even azure (for the finicky ones out there), light sand and a bright sun. And my mind immediately jumps to images of brightly colored balloons, children running around and swimmers plunging into the sea.
Reality pans in, and I see a retinue of cloaked women and men instead, mostly in distinct same sex groups. This is Oman, one of the most liberal countries in the Middle East. But let me check myself for this is not meant to be a diatribe against the ‘culture’ of that region. No, this is supposed to be a plain old travel journal, from my latest wanderings into the parts of the world where oil sells cheaper than water and human life cheaper still (especially if the said lives are from Asia).
Traditionally, a nation of maritime traders, that had deep links with India, Oman now has over 6000 kilometers of very well constructed and maintained highways that crisscross the length and breadth of the country. The present monarch (Sultan) is credited with the excellent road network as with all else that is good in the country (a characteristic atypical of most active monarchies that one comes in contact with!). But this is hardly cause for complain since these very roads took us across the breathtaking vistas that Oman is home to.
Al-Sawadi
The first destination that we visited during my first weekend in Oman was the Al-Sawadi beach, a popular spot en-route from Muscat, the country capital, to Sohar, one of the country’s biggest ports. As the car swept into the promenade that leads to the beach park, we saw children running around just like their counterparts from across the world. The only difference; these kids wore robes (not the Harry Potter variety) and some of the little girls had headscarves on. As we got out of the car, we attracted stares courtesy of our more Westernized clothing and probably, the lack of headscarves.
Unlike India, the short walk to the shoreline was free of hawker attacks though we did get cornered by one as soon as we settled into a picnic hut. The sales pitch here included the hawker shaking hands with the men in our group (of course!) and then launching into a whole stream of Arabic. Fortunately my cousin understands the language and could decipher that we were being offered a boat ride on the sea. After deliberating on the safety of the short trip minus life jacket style encumbrances, we decided to go for it. A good decision since the rickety boat added to the thrill and brought us back to shore, sun-burnt but alive.
A huge picnic lunch and much walking on the beach sands later, we set out to an Ostrich farm, the second destination of the day. About a thirty minute drive away from the beach, the farm was owned by a rich Omani Sheikh and hosted a variety of animals, from extremely regal Arabian steeds to sleepy camels and the very adorable red butted ostriches (a completely invented and in no way scientific name). The ostriches, the main attraction, and the human visitors seemed to share equal levels of curiosity about each other. Though shaking hands and beaks (?) was a huge temptation, the barbed wire fencing proved to be an effective barrier. While we the humans had to be content with a lot of hellos and hand waving, the ostriches stared (and I suspect grinned) right back at us. Definitely a bonding experience!
The day over, it was time to start planning the next trip. Maybe exploring the Omani sea-life was next. We’ll see.
Reality pans in, and I see a retinue of cloaked women and men instead, mostly in distinct same sex groups. This is Oman, one of the most liberal countries in the Middle East. But let me check myself for this is not meant to be a diatribe against the ‘culture’ of that region. No, this is supposed to be a plain old travel journal, from my latest wanderings into the parts of the world where oil sells cheaper than water and human life cheaper still (especially if the said lives are from Asia).
Traditionally, a nation of maritime traders, that had deep links with India, Oman now has over 6000 kilometers of very well constructed and maintained highways that crisscross the length and breadth of the country. The present monarch (Sultan) is credited with the excellent road network as with all else that is good in the country (a characteristic atypical of most active monarchies that one comes in contact with!). But this is hardly cause for complain since these very roads took us across the breathtaking vistas that Oman is home to.
Al-Sawadi
The first destination that we visited during my first weekend in Oman was the Al-Sawadi beach, a popular spot en-route from Muscat, the country capital, to Sohar, one of the country’s biggest ports. As the car swept into the promenade that leads to the beach park, we saw children running around just like their counterparts from across the world. The only difference; these kids wore robes (not the Harry Potter variety) and some of the little girls had headscarves on. As we got out of the car, we attracted stares courtesy of our more Westernized clothing and probably, the lack of headscarves.
Unlike India, the short walk to the shoreline was free of hawker attacks though we did get cornered by one as soon as we settled into a picnic hut. The sales pitch here included the hawker shaking hands with the men in our group (of course!) and then launching into a whole stream of Arabic. Fortunately my cousin understands the language and could decipher that we were being offered a boat ride on the sea. After deliberating on the safety of the short trip minus life jacket style encumbrances, we decided to go for it. A good decision since the rickety boat added to the thrill and brought us back to shore, sun-burnt but alive.
A huge picnic lunch and much walking on the beach sands later, we set out to an Ostrich farm, the second destination of the day. About a thirty minute drive away from the beach, the farm was owned by a rich Omani Sheikh and hosted a variety of animals, from extremely regal Arabian steeds to sleepy camels and the very adorable red butted ostriches (a completely invented and in no way scientific name). The ostriches, the main attraction, and the human visitors seemed to share equal levels of curiosity about each other. Though shaking hands and beaks (?) was a huge temptation, the barbed wire fencing proved to be an effective barrier. While we the humans had to be content with a lot of hellos and hand waving, the ostriches stared (and I suspect grinned) right back at us. Definitely a bonding experience!
The day over, it was time to start planning the next trip. Maybe exploring the Omani sea-life was next. We’ll see.
Tuesday, 17 November 2009
Lapsed yet again
Well over 10 days and I decide to take up the proverbial pen again. I guess procrastination and I are really best friends for life!
So, I realized today that pushing the limits while fun, could mean different things to different people. It's not just about uprooting yourself and then deriving a strange satisfaction from injecting yourself into cultures that are pretty different from yours. It could be about pushing boundaries in art, about challenging the limits that you can see but ofcourse, need to transcend. It could of course mean something completely different too. Things that I couldn't be bothered to think of right now :)
Life's been on a rollercoaster the last few weeks. And that's another thing that I have discovered. While clearly on the unsettling side, rollercoasters are fun. They throw you into situations that you never thought you would be in, like being suspended hundreds of feet above the ground with some firm straps between you and near death. While you are thinking about how this isn't the moment that you would choose to die in, the machine kicks in and you are sent through some of the most nerve wracking experiences of your life. And you do come out. Alive. With a deep sense of unreality and the need of the addict to do it again. Even as you know that you are completely terrified and would run given the chance. But you don't give yourself that chance. I wonder why.
A little more than two more weeks of semester to go. And like I mentioned to somebody yesterday, I don't know whether to be happy it's done or scared that I don't have a page of my proposal written. Another 'if' in my life that's completely structured on that wonderfully stable word :)
More later...
So, I realized today that pushing the limits while fun, could mean different things to different people. It's not just about uprooting yourself and then deriving a strange satisfaction from injecting yourself into cultures that are pretty different from yours. It could be about pushing boundaries in art, about challenging the limits that you can see but ofcourse, need to transcend. It could of course mean something completely different too. Things that I couldn't be bothered to think of right now :)
Life's been on a rollercoaster the last few weeks. And that's another thing that I have discovered. While clearly on the unsettling side, rollercoasters are fun. They throw you into situations that you never thought you would be in, like being suspended hundreds of feet above the ground with some firm straps between you and near death. While you are thinking about how this isn't the moment that you would choose to die in, the machine kicks in and you are sent through some of the most nerve wracking experiences of your life. And you do come out. Alive. With a deep sense of unreality and the need of the addict to do it again. Even as you know that you are completely terrified and would run given the chance. But you don't give yourself that chance. I wonder why.
A little more than two more weeks of semester to go. And like I mentioned to somebody yesterday, I don't know whether to be happy it's done or scared that I don't have a page of my proposal written. Another 'if' in my life that's completely structured on that wonderfully stable word :)
More later...
Wednesday, 4 November 2009
That itch again
I don't feel like writing about places today. I don't feel like doing any of what I officially started out to do on this blog.
Today, I just want to write.
About that glove that I lost last winter, the one that set me free. About the feeling of ineptitude when I stare into blank faces week after week, trying to convince myself that what I say, makes a connection somewhere. I try, before the bubble bursts. Right in my face. About roads that I have lost to the past. Some by choice, and some perforce. About roads that I see stretch out ahead. That I wonder if I have the strength to traverse.
About human connections. That light up in the most unexpected places. And the ones that collapse unexpectedly. About friends that I make and try my best, to keep. And those that I lose. And the pointlessness of ruing that loss. And in the most annoying academic way, the pointlessness of the pointlessness of ruing that loss. Ha! (Girl Interrupted?)
I want to write about the joy of finding people, places and adventures. Of building from scratch. And then that ever present need to move on. To force closure where none was ever required. I want to write crazy today. Like I said, to stop being official and become the rebel I (never) was (though Ma may disagree :) To forsake routine and go back to Hampi, to Goa, to other frontiers that I haven't touched yet. Soon! If nowhere else, it will be back to the craziness of NYC.
Today, I just want to write.
About that glove that I lost last winter, the one that set me free. About the feeling of ineptitude when I stare into blank faces week after week, trying to convince myself that what I say, makes a connection somewhere. I try, before the bubble bursts. Right in my face. About roads that I have lost to the past. Some by choice, and some perforce. About roads that I see stretch out ahead. That I wonder if I have the strength to traverse.
About human connections. That light up in the most unexpected places. And the ones that collapse unexpectedly. About friends that I make and try my best, to keep. And those that I lose. And the pointlessness of ruing that loss. And in the most annoying academic way, the pointlessness of the pointlessness of ruing that loss. Ha! (Girl Interrupted?)
I want to write about the joy of finding people, places and adventures. Of building from scratch. And then that ever present need to move on. To force closure where none was ever required. I want to write crazy today. Like I said, to stop being official and become the rebel I (never) was (though Ma may disagree :) To forsake routine and go back to Hampi, to Goa, to other frontiers that I haven't touched yet. Soon! If nowhere else, it will be back to the craziness of NYC.
Sunday, 25 October 2009
To Wisconsin instead
So, I want to take a break from recapping Egypt. I'll head over to Wisconsin instead, the last place I was at.
A weekend that coincides with Diwali and we decide to pack our bags and set off to (what else) take pictures of the awesome fall colours of the Midwest. I am hoping that we find at least a church that has candles out--I mean Diwali is the festival of lights, right?
So we set off, an hour or two late but never mind, it's a mini vacation :) And we really set off--I mean it was miles and miles (sounds better than kilometres and is probably what the eccentric Americans measure distances in ;) of farmland and quiet. I still can't get over how different travelling in the countryside is in India and the US. I mean, there is not a soul in sight here--no little kids waving to you from the sides of the highway. Just quiet. I don't know how I feel about that--just doesn't seem right. (I think it's homesickness again). But here you travel in a car and could go by without any contact with humanity unless you need the inevitable pit stop at a gas station (read petrol pump). No second class train compartment where you grab seats and protect them from the general category ;)
After about four hours of driving, we reached Waterford, WI, the cheapest hotel town closest to the Kettle Moraine National Park. And instead of a hotel, the GPS (one of the staples here) takes us to a deserted airfield! I think I do that--the only time we went to Springfield (Illinois' state capital and more farmland than town), we got lost! Anyway, went down Church Street and found the hotel. abrupt end but more tomorrow :)
A weekend that coincides with Diwali and we decide to pack our bags and set off to (what else) take pictures of the awesome fall colours of the Midwest. I am hoping that we find at least a church that has candles out--I mean Diwali is the festival of lights, right?
So we set off, an hour or two late but never mind, it's a mini vacation :) And we really set off--I mean it was miles and miles (sounds better than kilometres and is probably what the eccentric Americans measure distances in ;) of farmland and quiet. I still can't get over how different travelling in the countryside is in India and the US. I mean, there is not a soul in sight here--no little kids waving to you from the sides of the highway. Just quiet. I don't know how I feel about that--just doesn't seem right. (I think it's homesickness again). But here you travel in a car and could go by without any contact with humanity unless you need the inevitable pit stop at a gas station (read petrol pump). No second class train compartment where you grab seats and protect them from the general category ;)
After about four hours of driving, we reached Waterford, WI, the cheapest hotel town closest to the Kettle Moraine National Park. And instead of a hotel, the GPS (one of the staples here) takes us to a deserted airfield! I think I do that--the only time we went to Springfield (Illinois' state capital and more farmland than town), we got lost! Anyway, went down Church Street and found the hotel. abrupt end but more tomorrow :)
Wednesday, 21 October 2009
Les Pyramids
Back after yet another week. The high level of punctuality's probably becoming a regular feature of this blog!
Anyway, so there we were in Giza, next door to Cairo, in the Hotel Les 3 Pyramids. Probably not on the Top 10 list in Trip Advisor but a decent place, nevertheless. Finally, we would get to see the remains of the Pharaohs, and get a glimpse of everything that history books had shoved down our throats ;)
But then, good things always take their own sweet time. We were first taken to the museum of Ramses 2. The guy was so confused, he ended up marrying one of his daughters! I guess all that does deserve a museum of honour ;) The next stop was the step pyramid in Saqquara--the precursor to the Great Pyramids. A little bit like the rough architect's sketch before the final building goes up. A slight detour at a carpet shop and then finally, the pyramids!
One of the biggest names on the Greatest Wonders list, the first is the Pyramid of Cheops, the second, of Khefru, and the third, of Macarenas (sounds very familiar). While our parents very wisely decided not to enter the belly of the beast, my sister and I had the spirit of the explorers upon us. So we went down a steep ramp, just about ready to slip every few steps, pretty sure that we would end up with broken limbs, or die of suffocation in the Pyramid of Macarenas.The scary trek was worth it. Though it's been a few years, I still remember the sense of awe that we felt when we could finally walk around this ancient burial site.
Unfortunately, the Sphinx had closed its doors for the day and we ended up getting pictures of it only from the outside. But then we were never ones to give up early. A bit of sauntering around the shops, and then we were back for the Son et lumière, as the Sphinx came alive to tell us the story of the Pyramids and the Egypt of yore. It was a fascinating show, with the light from the stars above and the mesmerizing voice coming together to take us back into one of the richest periods in the world's history.
More later...
Anyway, so there we were in Giza, next door to Cairo, in the Hotel Les 3 Pyramids. Probably not on the Top 10 list in Trip Advisor but a decent place, nevertheless. Finally, we would get to see the remains of the Pharaohs, and get a glimpse of everything that history books had shoved down our throats ;)
But then, good things always take their own sweet time. We were first taken to the museum of Ramses 2. The guy was so confused, he ended up marrying one of his daughters! I guess all that does deserve a museum of honour ;) The next stop was the step pyramid in Saqquara--the precursor to the Great Pyramids. A little bit like the rough architect's sketch before the final building goes up. A slight detour at a carpet shop and then finally, the pyramids!
One of the biggest names on the Greatest Wonders list, the first is the Pyramid of Cheops, the second, of Khefru, and the third, of Macarenas (sounds very familiar). While our parents very wisely decided not to enter the belly of the beast, my sister and I had the spirit of the explorers upon us. So we went down a steep ramp, just about ready to slip every few steps, pretty sure that we would end up with broken limbs, or die of suffocation in the Pyramid of Macarenas.The scary trek was worth it. Though it's been a few years, I still remember the sense of awe that we felt when we could finally walk around this ancient burial site.
Unfortunately, the Sphinx had closed its doors for the day and we ended up getting pictures of it only from the outside. But then we were never ones to give up early. A bit of sauntering around the shops, and then we were back for the Son et lumière, as the Sphinx came alive to tell us the story of the Pyramids and the Egypt of yore. It was a fascinating show, with the light from the stars above and the mesmerizing voice coming together to take us back into one of the richest periods in the world's history.
More later...
Tuesday, 13 October 2009
A Post-it
Just so I don't forget. A friend set me thinking about how it makes perfect economic sense to deny yourself the big bucks and create employment instead. Specially in the Indian context. More later.
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