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July 26 Talking about Home - Windows Live SpacesBetween the Kwik-E-Mart on Denny and the super fun avatar creator on http://www.simpsonsmovie.com, The Simpsons Movie marketing campaign is great!
May 12 The Searching for Sammy WalkAs early as a year ago, the age 28 meant a lot of things to me - impending marriage decisions, mortgage payments, car seat investigations, frequent trips to target. Having a mother-in-law. Eating at the dining room table. I pictured myself and friends no longer interested in horsing around in nice restaurants, no longer entertained by flatulence/barf-related humor. Maybe open to the idea of cleaning my bathroom regularly. Surprisingly, none of this has happened. I suppose there have been other changes. I've graduated from 107.7 the end to almost exclusive NPR listenership. I find "This American Life" really interesting - and the way my tutoring students' eyes glaze over as I relay a recent episode to them dates me. I minimize the beverage escapades and try to load up on antioxidants and the like. I balance my mutual funds. Most strikingly, sometimes I get together with a group of friends at my apartment just to "talk". I clearly remember being puzzled by this about 10 years ago as I played video games with my friends in the basement while our parents talked about God-knows-what-over-tea upstairs. And now here I am, having "upstairs" conversations over tea. Sometimes about tea. Maybe my parents were talking about flatulance back then, in Gujurati. Who knows. In any case, as per tradition, my freakishly great friends organized another freakishly great birthday this year which began as a little "treasure hunt" meets "Amazing Race" all over Capitol Hill. At each stage we were given a clue to decipher, which would lead us to the location of the next clue. As with previous birthdays, the entire effort gives a little glimpse into our life in Seattle's most awesome "gayborhood". Here's a little sample of the day's events: Intro letter:
Beautiful, thanks.
blah blah blah... lets skip to the important part...
And off we went..
The Egyptian movie theatre of course, at Pine and Harvard. Great little place that looks like it was decorated by Cleopatra's tacky niece. I love vintage movie houses - so much more character than megaplexes. The Egyptian has only 1-2 theatres, so you really feel like everyone in the house is rolling the dice together. The Egyptian has lots of midnight showings of great old ones - we had actually seen Harold and Maude there a few weeks back - what a great movie. Hey, there's another thing that's changed with age - I couldn't give a shit about THX or screen size or surround sound or any of that crap - i only care about content, companions, candy and if that ticket I just bought my date is gonna pay off at some point in the evening... ok not that much has changed. They had me try and charm the poor movie ticket girl to try and get one of my favorite movies from her - Swingers. That beautiful baby thought I was so money.
This is where I had to go into model-mode on broadway at the steps of Seattle central as the group went at me with sharpies and blank slates. Judging but the works my friends produced, they roughly fall into two camps: A) The people who are really talented Anyways, here are a few samples of their work (note: a latham few works were latham left off because of latham obscene imagery latham):
And a shot of my modelling work.
Yes, my previous 4 halloween outfits were a an ill-fated Indian-psuedo-Crow getup, a Hershey's bar (I thought that was clever), a crossword puzzle complete with clues (that turned out to Sunday NY-Times clever) and Captain Orgasmo. You know, the guy with the "Shields". The clue led us to Red Light - the used clothing store on Broadway - where my captors proceeded to choose an outfit for me for the night. In the words of our former real-estate agent, Mark Gill, "What a disaster!" Some early choices:
The final selection was a track suit top about 3 sizes too small with Arnold Palmer signature series pants that lead to requisite money shot on right. Rock on.
So this would be a reference to my seemingly permanent precense on the dating scene. Look dudes, i'd love to find that special someone just like everybody else. What better place to go than Castle sex toy store on Broadway. We spent a surprisingly long time in there - their Latin-Transgender section was prolific. In any case, team bought me a great book on the darker arts (not that i needed the help). OK, i'm hopeless.
And that would be fake-bacon at Bleu Bistro on Broadway. My Wasp and Jewish-sinner friends tell me its pretty close to the real thing. I believe them. You should believe them and go there for dinner immediately if haven't been before. (Note to the daters: this place is more money than any sex toy you could ever buy). So we went to Bleu and got some fake bacon.
And this is B&O Espresso, a favorite hangout and capitol hill institution. A few months ago we got word that a condo mogel purchased the building and was forcing them out of business. So I called our district councillor to protest (I don't remember who told me to do this - but if you're reading this - thanks!). They actually just put a sign up saying they'd be in business for at least the next two years. So I have a new deadline for leaving Capitol Hill. We went to B&O and has some hot drinks to chillax after our big day. That night, the crazy kids organized a dinner for a bigger group at Jai Thai, that was very purple and fun. The cake was insanely good, although didn't hold a "candle" to Vaishali's "concrete" cake from last year. Here's a look at some of the festivities:
Thanks to everyone for coming and especially to Andy, Jordan and Vaishali, the unstable masterminds behind GBOAT!!! :)
April 03 Finders keepers, losers have shallow pocketsBefore leaving for that party on Saturday, I said to Latham:
"These linen pants I bought from India are great. Only problem is that they've got shallow pockets and I'm convinced i'm gonna lose stuff if I wear them."
As expected, my cell phone slipped out while in the cab on the way over. Brilliant.
Of course, you'd think in a friendly city like Seattle, getting it back wouldn't be a big deal. The next day I called the cab company and told them my story. They said their lost and found department opens on Monday at 10am. Seemed reasonable. I tried dialing the phone a few times -- no answer. As a precaution, I called Cingular and had them shut off the phone's ability to make out going calls.
I finally got a hold of the cab company today and they told me they couldn't locate my phone. So its lost. I then called Cingular again to let them know it was stolen. I also asked them to check if any calls were made between Saturday 10:30pm and Sunday 3pm. Lo and behold, some asshole decided to have some fun and make some long distance calls -- to Israel of all places!
Unbelievable. Just when I started to trust this city and its people.
At least Cingular doesn't charge you for calls after your phone is stolen.
Samir :( February 26 Talking about NPR : Creating Our Own HappinessFeeling gloomy this morning. Enter NPR and my hero, Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips, with "This I Believe..." :) February 19 Divided We FallI saw this movie this past Friday at the Seattle Human Rights film festival. I highly recommend it. Valerie Kaur wrote and produced the film based on footage she took when she was 20, travelling the country shortly after 9/11.
Divided We Fall
A turbaned Sikh man is murdered on Sept. 15, 2001 by a man who calls himself a patriot. In the aftermath of 9/11, as grief turns into rage on American city streets, temples are burned, homes vandalized, people assaulted. Barely broadcast on airwaves, these stories travel by word-of-mouth to the far reaches of a small California farming town, compelling a college student to step beyond the familiar threshold of her life.
Armed with only a camera, an American college student journeys across the country to find out who counts as one of us in a world divided into us and them. Valarie Kaur captures hundreds of stories never before told - stories of fear and unspeakable loss, but also of resilience and hope - until she finally finds the heart of America, halfway around the world. Five years in the making, Divided We Fall weaves expert analysis into a cross-country road trip that confronts the forces dividing Americans in times of crises. February 13 Talking about It's a Boy!Check out Nicole and Jeff's baby video. Babies never seem real to me until they enter the world, up till I saw this video. Ultrasound is one thing, but video?! Wow. Quote It's a Boy! January 21 Talking about Quought for the Day #35 - Ashwin RanganI never thought I'd Quote a Quought (From the Life Beyond Code Blog)
January 14 A Taste of Indian Life: Perfect StrangersDuring my 3 weeks of travels, I met a bunch of strangers along the way. As you might expect in India, land of extremes, Indian strangers take at least 2 very different forms.
The first is the street scammer.
Take 10 million people, give them not enough resources to share amongst themselves, create a class hierarchy to ensure 80% of them stay downtrodden and then turn them into a democracy - what will you have? You'll have the typical Indian urban metropolis. It will be teeming with people who are desperatly trying to get ahead of the next guy by any means necessary.
In major Indian cities, and places like Agra in particular, you can't take 5 steps without someone trying to sell/hock/hustle/beg/scam/push/borrow/steal something from you. It's an acute problem in a place like Agra because of the huge number of tourist dollars that the average resident is dependent on for their livelihood. This person is usually male, but can come very young and very old, from the 10 year old fast-talking swindler/salesman who tried to double-charge me for batteries for my camera and then convince me to use his uncle as a tour guide, to the bus ticket collector who 'forgot' to give me 5 rupees change (BTW, Indians are the best money counters in the world) to Mr. Amar, the 'lumbar system' riksha driver who wanted to constantly stop at his friend's kashmiri collectable shop (so he could pick up a commission, no doubt).
Given their circumstances, its difficult to blame the average indian street hustler for his approach - he's just trying to make a living, afterall. However, its difficult to not regularly become frustrated with it all. As a tourist, you tend to put your guard up after experiencing this for your first day and view every approach by an indian as a potentially hostile one. If you think i'm an asshole in Seattle, you should have seen me in Agra - Leslie can attest to this.
Contrast that with our second type of indian stranger - the curious passerby.
In general, in smaller towns and if they're not street scammers, Indians are extremely curious and friendly. Everywhere we went, people want to know where we were from, why we were there, where we were going, which country is better (the US or India), if Leslie and I were married, what I did for a living, what environmental conservancy is (sadly), whether we were hungry (if not, why not), why I looked Indian, how much money I made, when I'll be getting married, what Indian movies i had seen and how i feel about Shah Rukh Khan, Amir Khan etc etc etc.
We were mobbed by children all through Jodhpur's old city. Manoj, an Indian army officer on the Bikaner train forced us to eat his delicious prepared meal with him while he relayed all the places we needed to visit in Dehli. Sauraubh, an engineer from Agra gave us his perspective on arranged marriages and his concern about tells his traditional parents about his love interest. We were mobbed by half the B.Comm graduating class of Kerala University on an Allepey beach, as they quizzed us for hours on our lives (they were particuarly enthralled by Leslie's handstands).
Some of the questions may seem rude to the average North American, but I've come to realize that the Indian curiousity is really just a genuine interest in people (and that scammers don't really care exactly how much money you make - they correctly assume its much more than they ever will..) January 12 Taste of Indian Life: MatrimonialsThe classifieds section in the typical Indian newspaper is similar to those in other countries - except for one very auspicious and, err, bulky section - the "Matrimonials". This is the place where families of India's eligible bacherlors and bachelorettes come to find a suitable girl / boy to form a "familial alliance" with (also known as arranged marriage).
It's a virtual directory of singles grouped by caste, religion, tribe, sect, political preference containing all the "biodata" necessary for parents/aunts/grandparents/cousins/siblings to make an informed decision on the matrimonial affairs of their well educated/fair skinned/movie-star-looks family member.
To be fair, my opinions about arranged marriages have changed considserably since getting to India. Before my trip, I looked at them as a relic of a patriarchal backwards tradition that favored growth of family respect and power over personal happiness (of the bride in particular). I had always dismissed argu ments of arranged marriages having a higher success rate than love marriages as a side-effect of disregard for women's rights (like the right to object to their husband/mother- in-law's wishes, for example).
Living with my uncles and aunts has changed that opinion somewhat. First off, they've all got loving marriage with little to no 'domination'. There is a natural order to events - like the men eating first, the children second, and the women third. The women serving t he men no longer seems like slave labor, but more like loving care and a culinary tradition of gharam-gharam (warm) roti. Analysis and selection of the mate by family members seems like common sense than opression for a few reasons: First, its indian tradition to have families live together in a single house - the prospective bride's compatibility with the rest of the family is thus essential. Second, this allows for a more long term view of the marriage relationship and helps to remove the haze that can be created by being 'head over heels' for someone. Education, caste, religion, looks, astrological signs, family reputation are all considered in the evaluation. Incredibly, Indians, the most passionate race on the globe, are more practical on this matter than most other cultures. Indians believe that love is not enough for marriage success - and that that will come with time. Note that most of the marrying-age indians I talked to (my cousins, their friends and some complete strangers) believed that arranged marriages were the right way to go. Some of them were already in relationships that they intended to end, while others would never consider dating outside of family arrangements.
While I'd still prefer to find my own dates, I think there is some 5000 year old wisdom in the traditions all 'marrying age' north americans should consider. January 04 Camels and RatsWe diverted our plans of visiting Jaipur, the "Pink" city, when we learned from some fellow backpackers about the annual camel festival happening this week in Bikaner, Rajastan. It's a small town about 7 hours train ride from Jodhpur, and the festival is the highlight of the year for this sleepy desert place, so we decided it would be worth changing our plans to go.
The festival was better than we expected - picture dancing camels, a Mr. and Miss Bikaner competition, authentic ethnic Rajastani song and dance AND more camels that I've ever expected to see in a single place. I definitely recommend going to Bikaner Camel Festival 2008!
Also, we were thoroughly creeped out at the wierdest temple I've ever been to - Karna Mati Hindu temple. Legend has it, to prevent any members of her tribe from falling into the hands of Yama, goddess of death, Shri Karni Mata put a spell on all members of her tribe to have them temporarily reincarnated as rats (so their souls couldn't be caimed by Yama).
The people of this tribe worship the rats in this temple, feed them holy offerings of food and milk (prasada), and consider their saliva and dropping, holy. This temple is literally crawling with rats of all shapes and sizes - and the most mangey and diseased looking variety. You'd expect such well fed rats to look a lot healthier! The place is straight out of an indiana jones movie!
I'll post some photos on it in a bit - amazing, but gruesome.
Next stop, Agra to see the famous Taj (although http://www.karnimata.com claims i've already seen the 8th wonder of the world). December 31 Jodhpur, the Blue CityI arrived yesterday in Jodhpur, often referred to as the "Blue" city. Most of the buildings in the old quarter are painted blue to signify their Bhraman caste heritage. The old quarter is contained within the confines of the Meharagan fort, a massive structure built by the great Raj Jod Singh, for which the city is named.
Jodhpur's old city is mostly winding, narrow passages impossibly cramped with street vendors, shops, rickshaws, bicycles, people and, of course, animals of all shapes and sizes. The trip through all of this on the rikshaw from the train station was at an alarmingly high speed, as per Indian standard operating procedures.
So far, the Meharagan fort has been the most impressive site I've seen - a series of buildings with delicately carved facades and ornate decoration surrounded by large stone walls with plenty of space for the weapons of war - including about a dozen cannons on display. All of this has been pretty preserved, too.
We'll be spending new years enjoying an indian buffet on the rooftop patio of our hostel, which has turned about to be a cool little place full of other backpackers.
Happy New Year! Taste of Indian Life: StreetsOpen the Ahmedabadi yellow pages and you'll find sections similar to what you'll find in any north american city - plumbers, restaurants, repair shops, etc. Upon closer examination, you'll notice two subtle differences:
1. An abnormally large "wedding halls" section
2. No street addresses! Well, not ones we're used to in the Western world.
Example:
Desai Travel
(214)3233342
OppKashirmTextileNrHtlThkrInPovumCplx
What the #@%$ does "OppKashirmTexlNrHtlThkr" mean? Decoding the "Hinglish", it can be roughly translated to:
Opposite to Kashirm Textile
North of Hotel Thakkar
Located in Povum Complex
Riight, and with 5 million inhabitants, 30 sq-km of city street teeming with every concievable living creature, I'm expected to find this place?
BTW, its not just some of the businesses and residences that are labelled this way - ALL OF THEM are.
Thank goodness for well informed local cousins and uncles. :) December 25 Infamous GodhraYesterday, my uncle, aunt and cousin took me to Godhra, a town about 3 hrs driving from Ahmedabad. The offer to join them arrived about 10 minues before my uncle's driver showed up to take me to their house.
The only information I was given about hte trip was that my uncle had some "work to take care of" in Godhra and that we would be there for a short while. Multiple attempts to find out details of the trip were thwarted - the whole thing seemed a bit mysterious. Also, it was Saturday night, which seemed like a strange time for a business meeting. And why were my aunt and cousin coming?
We were accompanied by a driver and by Prakash, a man "employed" by my uncle. Dude had the most intense stare as he tried to decipher the "Gujenlish" ramblings of this NRI (Non-Resident Indian).
We began the trip on a modern highway, which quickly turned into a one lane side road along which large trucks, scooters and cars travelled at alarmingly high speeds, frequently passing each other by crossing onto oncoming traffic. I thought I was going to die about 7 times during the trip as our driver veered into and out of oncoming lorries and buses. Things may have appeared worse then they acrtually were from the limited vantage point of hte back of the van (which lacked seat belts, of course).
At Godhra we visited hte apartment of my Uncle's collegue, Mehran bhai, his wife and son. Their place was full yappointed with custom carved trim, marble floors, strange indian artefacts from across the country and an ornate prayer room. There was even a swing inside the place and a deck that took up half the roof the building - totally Indian Pimp.
Mehran bhai was a former Gujrati film actor, evidenced by the still action shot he proudly presented to us of a scene from his last (and greatest) movie - more than 20 years ago.
At this point, as the gentlement began conversation in Gujrati beyond my grasp, my cousin Jay finally let me in on the purpose of hte trip. A good common friend of my uncle and Mehran bhai, Elsir, had recently lost his mother. We had come here to pay our respects to Elsir and his father Ahmed. We had stopped at this gentleman's house so we could pick him up on our way to Elsir's house.
After a half cup of chai - which i really needed since i had been up fro almost 40 hours at this point if you exclude airplan napping - we (men) headed to Elsir's house.
As we wound through the back roads of godhra into the muslim district, the men relayed to me the history of the infamous small town of Godhra and the blemish it carries on Gujarati history.
Godhra was the site of the Ayodya train masacre. In 2002, a group of Hindu fundamentalists were returning from the city of Ayodya, which, according to various ancient Hindu texts, was the birthplace of Lord Ram, a great Hindu deinty. On the supposed location of his birthplace many years before, a mosque was onstructed and its existanc is a point of contention for Hindus and Muslims in Gujarat for many years.
As this group of Hindus returned from the mosque, where they had help a protest in favor of reming the mosque, they got into a dispute with some of the muslim vendors at the Godhra station. The conflict quickly turned violent. The muslim side started throwing stones and bottles at the train passengers, who returned to the train car for shelter. The muslim group stopped the train, took gasoine from a nearby station and lit the train car itself on fire - all the passangers aboard were killed.
This incident sparked a month of extreme violence and riotting aross the state, with the eventual sacking of the Babri mosque. The violence spread as far as Bombay, with atrocities ocurring on both sides.
During our trip to Elsir's house, we were shown the train station where the events ocurred and even the gas station which 'fueled' the violent act.
So, my uncle, a moderate Hindua and senior official in the Gujarati government was going with his collegue, a self professed staunce Hindu, to grieve for the mother of their friends, well known leaders of the muslim business community. such is the engima that is Indian society.
At Elias' house, we sat in silence for the first few minutes as the group contemplated the loss to Elias and his father. The subject of my recent arrival in India launched a discussion of the history of the city and alively debate about the nature of hte periodic violence in Gujarat. Note that the Godhra incident isn't without precident. For centuries, Muslims and Hindus have lived in Gujarat in relative peace, but every 10 years or so, and isolated violent act spawns a period of extreme violence and "communalism". My father experienced multiple such episodes while growing up here, and a particularly horrible one in 1969 where our family had to flee to Mumbai to avoid the violence.
The men seemed to place the blame on many things: the extremist uneducated members of both Hindu and Muslim sides; the corrupt govertment parties wishing to use violence and fear to motivate and swing voting; the fact that rioters and criminals will use any excuse to justify their cause. Ahmed, Elias' father, is seen as a leader in the muslim community, and he has done much to try and bridge the gap between Hindu/Muslim extremists. Still, he doubts whether they can ever break the cycle of violence.
With a wave of my Uncle's hand, whichseemed to indciate the period of observation complete, the group stood so we could return to Mehar's house for dinner.
We had a tasty and satisfying taali wiht our new muslim friends on the rooftop veranda of Mehar's apartment enjoying their company and some new found perspective on the complexity of Indian life. December 20 FatherlandTomorrow, I leave for a 3 week trip to India.
I was last there 5 years ago. It was the most significant experience of my life. Between the desperate poverty and the crash course in my own ancestry, I was reeling the entire time.
This time will be different. Different plan, different people, different Samir.
The first leg will be in Ahmedabad, visiting my Dad's folks. I'm anticipating cousins all growns-up and slightly brittler grandparents. Everyone there is very warm, very emotional. I've managed to bring a little something for each person, so that should be fun. My hopes of tying each gift to Seattle in some way were dashed when I caved and bought very not-Seattle purses for my aunts. At least the Ben Gibbard/Postal Service CD for my cousin Kavita is true to form.
I'll be meeting Leslie in Rajastan for the second leg. It's close to the Thar desert, so i've probably got a spitting camel in my future. Farrah may even meet up with us there, over from her teaching gig in Oman!
Vaishali will be meeting us in Kerala for the third leg, for some backwaters, houseboating etc.
Next stop: Amehdabad (via Mumbai) (via Seoul). No joke.
December 13 Hazar ImamEven though my faith is tenuous at best, I'm continually inspired by Hazar Imam, the Ismaili spiritual leader. A couple of interesting quotes: "We have much to build with. A common Abrahamic, monotheistic tradition. Common ethical principles, founded on shared human values. Common problems of yesterday, resolved together. Common challenges of tomorrow, that we can best face together. These, and all that much more that I cannot enumerate, but are fact, are the materials with which to build a bridge. Enlightened by sound intellect, I see its structure strongly built from the realities of our world. But any structure requires bonding, and of all the bonds that can link societies, America epitomises the strongest. It is called hope. The right to hope is the most powerful human motivation I know. Its importance has been paramount in the history of this nation. It is a reasonable expectation that the next generation will be better equipped to address the challenges of life than the present one. How beautiful that bridge of hope would be between the West and the Islamic world." Excerpt from Baccalaureate Address by His Highness the Aga Khan Brown University, May 26, 1996
"It has always seemed to me that bridges are among the most powerful and important symbols in human society - symbols of connection, of cooperation and of harmony. When harmony breaks down and conflicts ensue, the destroying of bridges is usually among the most urgent targets. But when peace and healing come, then it is the construction and rehabilitation of bridges that marks our progress." Excerpt from remarks by His Highness the Aga Khan |
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