Murugan Idli Shop

banana leaf feast

Puzzles

With each day, as a parent, you have a terrific opportunity to learn so much from the subtle actions of your child. I was consistently amazed when—if I am patient and peaceful enough to let myself witness it—the transformation and development of a child serves as deep insight into our own lives. Most recently, I have discovered this to be true when watching Kaia do once of his favorite activities: puzzles.

Sometime last spring, in March or April, Kaia started in on his first puzzle challenge, a large 30 piece floor puzzle of nursery rhymes. For some months he had been doing the types of board puzzles that captures toddlers’ attention, but for some reason he decided that he was ready to tackle the interlocking kind. It was quite remarkable to see how quickly he learned to place all of the pieces and so cute to see his pride emerge upon placing the final piece. Ever since mastering this one, he has this hunger for new puzzles and can sit for well over an hour putting them all together.

After realizing that he is very much able to dump a puzzle (or 2 or 5!) out and do the entire thing himself, I have taken to sitting with him and just watching his mind work. I can’t tell you how many times he has picked up a piece that I thought was the wrong one, only for it to be correct. It is kind of an odd feeling when you’re being outsmarted by a 2 year old. Anyway, the patience that he also exhibits, scanning the available pieces and considering the options, turning each piece multiple times, is something that I’ve learned a lot from. There is this certain confidence that he has, knowing that the puzzle will eventually come together, and that at some point the challenge become easier as the pieces, literally ‘fall into place’. But, in the beginning, it is a matter of trying to put together combinations, and not losing faith and falling into frustration. As time goes on, the path to completion becomes more clear and, when that final piece is placed and the full picture comes clear, there is time for a clap and a smile, and it is on to the next one. For me this persistence is such a life lesson -the challenge to forge ahead when the answers may not be so clear. This is but one thing I’ve learned at the foot of the little puzzle prince.

Why I Love this Time: a, b, c, d, e, f, g…n, o, q, p, l, m, n, o, z…p, r, s, v, 2, v, w, x, y and z.

Back to School

After a two and one-half week break, Kaia went back to school at Kids Central today. It seems like so long ago that we first took him there and all of the anxiety that accompanied that event. Today was so smooth—no tears, no clinging, just a brief wave bye-bye and off he went. Since it was a new term, there were a few new children in the group and you could certainly tell who they were. Just as I was exiting the school, I saw a mother whom I had briefly met last week bringing in her son (born on May 20, one day before Kaia) into Kids Central for the first time. He was, predictably, wailing and wrapped tight around his mother and she looked even worse than he did. She had told me when we spoke that this would be the first time that he was going ‘to school’, so she was concerned about how it would go. From the looks of things—not well to begin with. I don’t long for those days, but it is fascinating how quickly the human condition adapts and moves forward. All of the sadness and nostalgia I felt leading up to that day, and how it really gripped me, has gone into hibernation for the time being and now it is just a regular ol’ thing to drop him off. Of course, this is just a warm up act for all of the other significant detachments—first day at ‘real’ school, when he chooses friends over papa, adolescence, off to college…

Why I Love this Time: The day before yesterday, he was walking with a cup of water to bring to me and tripped, spilling the water all over the tile floor. He was so sad, because he was so proudly bringing it for me to drink, and immediately dropped to the floor and sobbed. As I comforted him and told him that it was OK and he could get papa another cup of water, through his sobs he said, “sorry, papa”. It was one of the most touching moments of my entire life.

Sethu's Family

Sethu's Family at indiapapa bday

When do we eat the cake?

Time

Thanks to the power of nostalgia, when I reflect back on being 20 years old, the memories are still fresh and accessible. I was eagerly anticipating the release of REM’s Green and enduring the end of yet another mediocre 80-82 Halos season. Life was good as the last of summer’s brutal humidity melted into the brisk Ann Arbor autumn—which of course, meant that it was all just around the corner: U of M football, shows at the Blind Pig, wings at Spots, studying in the Law library, beers and foos, walks in the Arb, fun with a good fake ID… Life was good. I mention this because now indiapapa is closer to 50 than 20 and, if there is one thing I have learned, it is that these next 15 years are going to roar by even quicker than I can remember the name of the great deli we used to eat at..

Anyway, while I don’t think that I can consciously become more aware of ‘taking advantage’ of the moment, the reminder of time’s march just reinforces my thanks for this time with Kaia. For you, dear readers, this may seem a bit overly sentimental and somewhat shallow in analysis, but there are certain times where I lack the ability (or am perhaps just lazy!) to fully articulate what it is that I am experiencing. Today I put up a photo from Kaia’s birth on my computer desktop—I’m posting it here as well—just to remind me that this little critter is going to be huge before I can even contemplate what happened. I had never before experienced the emotion of when joy and sadness tie a knot around a moment that you know is precious. Since he’s come into my life it seems like they happen on a regular basis. Hopefully by the time I’m 50, and he’s 17, we can look back on this entry and experience the same joyful walk down nostalgia’s lane.

Oh, Zingerman’s! And time marches on....

Why I Love this Time: “big boy pants”

Safety First

Always wear a helmet

Kolam

One of the more beautiful traditions in Tamil Nadu is the kolam, which refers to the decorative artwork drawn in front of homes and deities in puja rooms. The intricate symmetric designs and mandalas are a part of a long cultural tradition of south Indian families and are passed down from women to girls. They are considered to be a sort of painted prayer and often designs carry special meaning from family to family. Every morning you can see women drawing exquisite kolams in front of their homes and, by afternoon, they have all but disappeared due to wind, rain or human feet. This, of course, is part of what makes them so special.

The base is usually finely ground rice flour or chalk and can be simply white or with numerous colors. Today, Joyce decided to do a kolam in front of our home and, with the help of Kaia and Sekar, created a masterpiece. Usually, it is on Friday that she draws a kolam in her own home, so this was an appropriate day to do it at our place. Kaia showed amazing restraint in not jumping in an messing it all up (as he’s into these days with puzzles and blocks), and was quite deft at tip-toeing around the perimeter. I just crossed my fingers that he wouldn’t slip and fall right in the center.

It is hard to know how long it will last (since we’re in a flat, there is not concern about wind or rain), but with the steady stream of visitors, I’d give it about 2 days. It is great to know, however, that we’ll be making another one soon.

Why I Love this Time: His love for puzzles and the ritual of putting in the last piece together.

Kaia's Kolam

The Kolam 

Can I mess this up? 

Can I Help? 

Flowers 

The Finished Kolam 

Ganesh Chaturthi

Of the hundreds of gods and manifestation in the Hindu pantheon, perhaps Ganesha is the most popular. Even the most uninformed and uninterested visitor to this country cannot help but notice the elephant-headed visage of Lord Ganesha on just about every auto and in every building. This week has been Ganesh Chaturthi, which is the festival celebrating his birthday. The whole event is rather ritualized and significant (while some areas do not celebrate as wildly, it is a national holiday), so Kaia and I thought that we would give it a whirl and try our hand at celebrating local style.

The first thing we had to do was to purchase a small clay figure of Ganesha that would adorn our home for three days and then, on the third day, be tossed into the ocean (or river) as a symbol of Ganesha’s journey toward his home in Kailash and taking the misfortunes of man with him. When I first heard about this, I was a bit in disbelief that we (everyone) was going to take these statues and throw them into the ocean?!? Little did I know that some folks create plaster of paris idols that reach up to 25 feet in height! So Kaia and I went to the nearby temple where, conveniently, there were hundreds of clay Ganesha statues for sale. We purchased one, but then I realized, if we were going to do this right, there were a number of other accessories that we’d need to get. Here is where it helps to have regular temple going domestic help.

Our ayah, Joyce, advised us of all of the things that we’d need to get to make it right: a coconut, sugar cane, dates, bananas, camphor (for burning), a bell (to summon Ganesha), corn, a banana leaf (to place things on), dahl, and a puffed rice mixture (that Ganesha supposedly likes to eat). All of these things can be seen in the first photo. Oh, and an umbrella and flower lei for Ganesha as well. After getting everything for less than $3, we set it up. She told me how to peel one banana (in the opposite direction) while keeping the other closed and the process for doing the puja, which Kaia did a great job with—even placing the flowers and mixing the food (photo #2).

After placing all of the items in their proper place, we lit the camphor and circled it three times around Ganesha while ringing the bell. After the completion, you ‘feel’ the heat from the burning camphor and touch it to your forehead. In photo #3 Kaia is learning how to do this with a little help from Sethu. In photo #4, the process is complete with a little reverent prayer and bow and it is off to the ocean in a few days.

We did the puja on Wednesday in our home and then, on Saturday experienced the external celebration that I was particularly looking forward to. It was just a long procession of people (mostly men) shouting and chanting, carrying Ganesha statues, making their way to the ocean. The small clay statues, like the one that we had brought with us, were piled up in the back of bullock carts, presumably from regional temples, and the people were disposing of them as proxies. But what was particularly stunning was the size and elaborate décor of some of the statues. As I said before, all I could think about is—what is the ocean going to look like after this? In the final photo, you can see how they lift the larger statues with a large crane and then boat it out about 100 yards before dumping it. It must be a pretty creepy looking artificial reef out there with hundreds of Ganesha in various states of decomposition.

But back to our little disposal ritual, we made our way through the sea of humanity to the shoreline where we said our goodbyes and I proceeded to contribute to the massive littering exercise in the name of spiritual cleansing. I tried to throw it as far as I could, but (from the photo below) there are a number that just don’t make it very far.

As expected, Kaia was thoroughly impressed with the cranes and disposal process. He’s also developed an affection for Ganesh and immediately asked when we were going to get a new one. The entire process and final event was truly memorable and Kaia really enjoyed himself. Somehow I don’t think that folks would look to kindly at us tossing elephant headed clay figurines into the Puget Sound in the future.

Why I Love this Time: Learning to say ‘yes’, and with enthusiasm!

The Puja Space 

Mixing Treats for Ganesha 

Feeling the heat 

A Prayer and Bow 

Ganesha Craziness 

Off to Sea! 

Bye, Bye Ganesha 

The Aftermath 

Taking Ganesh to Sea 

The Disposal 

The Wedding Reception

Last month, as avid readers of this weblog will recall, we hired a new driver named Sekar (pronounced SHECK-ar) from a family who was leaving India. It was terrific fortune for us to find him at that time, and he has been a wonderful addition to our extended family here in India. Kaia fell in love with him from day one and looks forward to his return each morning. Today, Sekar Uncle (in Tamil you say it like this, as you would in Japanese), held his wedding reception in preparation for a 4:30am wedding today. This was the first wedding event that we had attended in this country, and it was an unforgettable event for all of us.

I had been looking forward to this event for some time and in preparation purchased the appropriate clothing—a white dhoti with fancy trim—which I coupled with a blue kurta that I already had. For Kaia, I didn’t have anything special or fancy and even had I purchased something for the occasion, I knew, with his current peculiarities that he wouldn’t agree to wear it anyway. So, I let him choose his best clothes, and surprise, surprise—surfer wear was the outfit of choice.

We arrived at the event about 15 minutes late, but expectedly, there were few people there at the appointed 7:00pm start time. In this country, at least in Tamil Nadu, timings are a very fluid concept, in fact they couldn’t be more different than the fascist punctuality one finds in Japan. Anyway, we were greeted with a few shakes of rosewater to our heads for purification and entered the dining hall where about 20 people were waiting.

While I can only speak from my own experience, Indian people are some of the most friendly and welcoming people that I have ever met. On so many other occasions, in places like the US, I have felt uncomfortable in situations like this—coming to an event where I did not know anyone—and little has been done to ease my anxiety once I got there. But in this case, the dozens of smiles and head bobbles, not to mention the friendly folks showing you to a seat, made us feel at ease from the very first moment. Kaia, of course, was wisked away by doting relatives of the groom and spoiled in a way that only Indians know how. What a lucky guy.

In the wedding hall, on the 3^rd floor, the area had already been prepared with folding chairs and glittering streamers and, most importantly I would imagine, the red ‘thrones’ on the front stage, under the watchful illustrations of Ganesh (for domestic harmony and success), Lakshmi (for wealth and beauty), and Saraswathi (for wisdom and learning) where the bride and groom are to sit. I don’t know if it was a sacrilege for Kaia to be up there playing around, but all the folks who were there didn’t seem to mind!

After some time, we had the reception feast which was, accordingly, a thali meal served on a fresh banana leaf. Terrific food and just another reminder of the fun of eating a thali with all of the men walking around with stainless steel buckets, ladling extra helpings of this coconut chutney and that potato masala dish onto your leaf…

The bride was actually quite late in coming to the event, perhaps due to the fact that she was coming from a rural village some 2-3 hours away by vehicle. When she finally did roll up, it wasn’t in a white stretch SUV limo as is so popular in the USA, but in a large moving truck with about 50 of her closet relatives! It was quite a sight to see as all of the folks unloaded themselves, and what seemed to be most of her things (suitcase, boxes, etc.) and earthenware pots filled with, presumably, grains and (maybe) oils as a part of the dowry (which apparently has been outlawed in India since the early 1960s).

What will really stick with me, however, more than the chains of brilliant gold and the elaborate sari and headwear, is the terrified look on her face as she stood there, waiting to approach the wedding hall. She was surrounded by about 10 other women, appearing to be mostly in their teens and 20s, and while they were all talking and laughing, she was a visage of stone. Still now I am haunted by that look—what was she thinking? How would this person whom she had only met one time treat her? What will be on the other side of this landmark? As my wife has said many times during our time in India, “people here live with faith”, and I guess this explains things as much as anything. I do know that she is marrying into a very good family, filled with kind people, so, in time, she will settle into a good situation for herself. However, I cannot imagine what she must be feeling now. Sekar too has been very nervous lately—as if just getting married alone wasn’t enough!

I had wanted very badly to attend the early morning wedding, but alas it would not be possibly with Kaia’s sleeping schedule. In any event, we will never forget out first India wedding celebration.

Why I Love this Time: The face that turns from whatever emotion to serious when posed to give a big, slobbery, open mouthed kiss.

The Entry

The Wedding Hall

Joyce (our Aiya, not the bride), Kaia and Sekar 

Sekar Uncle and Family