It Sounds Like Things Are More Surreal ...
... in Indiana today than they are over here in India.
We got your note Dad. Wow. I thought electricity was supposed to go out over here -- not there. Also, we're sorry to hear about the fact that you had to wrestle another tiger.
(To catch everyone up: The power blew at the homestead in Vallonia, Indiana, last night, Dad reports. So now there's a giant diesel generator in the yard. The chain of events -- explosion; installation of small generator; removal of small generator; installation of huge generator -- freaked out the cat so much that Dad had to grab it by the head and pull it out of Mom's studio. So that's the tiger-wrestling part. For anyone who didn't know, Dad previously wrestled an actual tiger about 30 years ago as part of the grandstand entertainment at the County Fair. Little-known but true fact.)
From all this, we can only draw the obvious conclusion: Things go to pot when Mom leaves town.
As for us, we had more fun than Dad today. We ate breakfast at a beautiful, old-fashioned restaurant in the heart of the city, which looks straight out of 1940s Vienna or something--except for one thing: There's this huge big-screen TV hanging from the ceiling, playing nonstop videos of women in saris gyrating their hips on beaches/meadows/Alpine slopes while being hotly pursued by chubby men with silly moustaches.
So that was breakfast.
We also did some shopping. But only after getting in a fight with our cabbie. We told him to take us one specific store, and he pretended that he was following orders, but in fact he took us to an entirely different store where he probably gets a cut of the profit. What did he think, we were just off the turnip truck from Indiana? We sized up the situation and guess what happened: a U-turn. Soon we were at the store we wanted, spending rupees on gifts for Dad. (Wait till you see the new elephant saddle we bought you, Dad!)
Our day was wrapped up by a wonderful home-cooked dinner at the home of Usha Varadarajan, the mother of a friend of mine from work, Tunku. (This is Jesse writing this note.) From the guava juice, to the delicious main courses, to the wine and coffee on the cool back porch, it was simply great. Other guests included Tunku's brother and brother-in-law -- journalists with the newspapers the Express and the Hindu -- and other family members including Usha's sister. We talked about all kinds of things -- from the contemporary art scene in India (Usha has a house full of wonderful paintings) to whether a Bush or Kerry presidency would be better for India. Tunku's brother had just come to dinner after participating in a televized discussion of that point.
And with that, our first day in India comes to a close. Tomorrow maybe Abby will give us an update on the rash she claims she's getting from the bedsheets.
We got your note Dad. Wow. I thought electricity was supposed to go out over here -- not there. Also, we're sorry to hear about the fact that you had to wrestle another tiger.
(To catch everyone up: The power blew at the homestead in Vallonia, Indiana, last night, Dad reports. So now there's a giant diesel generator in the yard. The chain of events -- explosion; installation of small generator; removal of small generator; installation of huge generator -- freaked out the cat so much that Dad had to grab it by the head and pull it out of Mom's studio. So that's the tiger-wrestling part. For anyone who didn't know, Dad previously wrestled an actual tiger about 30 years ago as part of the grandstand entertainment at the County Fair. Little-known but true fact.)
From all this, we can only draw the obvious conclusion: Things go to pot when Mom leaves town.
As for us, we had more fun than Dad today. We ate breakfast at a beautiful, old-fashioned restaurant in the heart of the city, which looks straight out of 1940s Vienna or something--except for one thing: There's this huge big-screen TV hanging from the ceiling, playing nonstop videos of women in saris gyrating their hips on beaches/meadows/Alpine slopes while being hotly pursued by chubby men with silly moustaches.
So that was breakfast.
We also did some shopping. But only after getting in a fight with our cabbie. We told him to take us one specific store, and he pretended that he was following orders, but in fact he took us to an entirely different store where he probably gets a cut of the profit. What did he think, we were just off the turnip truck from Indiana? We sized up the situation and guess what happened: a U-turn. Soon we were at the store we wanted, spending rupees on gifts for Dad. (Wait till you see the new elephant saddle we bought you, Dad!)
Our day was wrapped up by a wonderful home-cooked dinner at the home of Usha Varadarajan, the mother of a friend of mine from work, Tunku. (This is Jesse writing this note.) From the guava juice, to the delicious main courses, to the wine and coffee on the cool back porch, it was simply great. Other guests included Tunku's brother and brother-in-law -- journalists with the newspapers the Express and the Hindu -- and other family members including Usha's sister. We talked about all kinds of things -- from the contemporary art scene in India (Usha has a house full of wonderful paintings) to whether a Bush or Kerry presidency would be better for India. Tunku's brother had just come to dinner after participating in a televized discussion of that point.
And with that, our first day in India comes to a close. Tomorrow maybe Abby will give us an update on the rash she claims she's getting from the bedsheets.
posted by jespes at 3:07 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home