The other day, I came home from the Knowledge Center to make lunch. I hadn't gotten much farther into preparations beyond chopping vegetables when I heard someone calling, “Didi! Didi!” (Didi means 'older sister' and is used as a general term for young women around my age.) I saw a man half way up the stairs to my balcony. I asked him what was the matter and he responded with a long string of Hindi that I couldn't understand. Finally, after much confusion, he said in English, “You are very beautiful.” Laughing, I thanked him and returned to my kitchen.
A minute later, I heard him call again, “Didi, didi!” This time, he had a huge tapestry rug rolled up over his shoulder. “Very beautiful rug for your room,” he pitched it to me. I have no need of such a rug, nor do I even have space for one the size he had. I was eventually able to convince him of this in broken Hindi and he left me to finish cooking my lunch.
I had a visit from a door-to-door salesman. He must have seen me buying vegetables on the road and suspected that since I was foreign, I was rich. I'm sure it didn't take much asking from my neighbors to figure out exactly where I lived.
I am about to take off on a nearly three week trip around India with Anya, two of her friends, and her sister. Our travel plans include Delhi, Aghra, Jalgoan, Pune, Chennai, and Madurai. I am looking forward to a break and a chance to see more of India. I don't anticipate being able to update this blog while I am traveling, but I promise to bring back lots of interesting stories.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Another Wedding
Last night, after finishing a late meeting about the web site up at TARA Center, where Jagori Grameen's office is, I discovered that it was already getting dark. Anya had told me many times that it wasn't a good idea to walk home alone after dark down that stretch of road, so I turned on the flashlight feature of my cellphone and hurried down the hill. Not far down, to my surprise, Devika and Gaytri greeted me coming back up the road. (Gaytri is on our agricultural team.) Gaytri's cousin was getting married that night, so she invited me to join her and Devika at the wedding feast.
It wasn't far at all from TARA Center. There must have been several hundred people packed into the courtyards of the housing complex. At the center of it all were the bride and groom. I have only ever been to the second day of a wedding, and then the couple have been out of sight, so this was something new to me. We watched the ceremony progress while waiting for our turn at the dham, the feast.
The couple sat underneath a small sort of tent pavilion made of painted wooden poles and decorated with tinsel, lights, wooden parrots. The bride was dressed in a fancy red and gold saalwar kameez, and her dupata was over her head and face the whole time like a veil. Her husband wore a pink turban, decked out with tinsel, and a paper vest sort of thing over the front of his shirt with even more colorful tinsel.
To my understanding, Indian's love tinsel. It's all over their Hindu shrines as well.
During the portion of the ceremony we watched, there was a sort of puja, worship. The girl's parents held a large conch shell over her head and prayed to the god Shiva while chant singing. All the while, she and her new husband knelt under the tent pavilion.
While we waited for the feast, I wound up sitting among a group of local girls, who struck up a conversation with me in English. Seeing it as a good chance to practice my Hindi, I stubbornly stayed out of my native language. The girls, however, seemed to think I know more Hindi than I do, but on the whole, it was fun to talk and practice with them.
The feast was an excellent one, with some of the best dham food I have had since being here. I'm certainly getting better at eating with my fingers, as I was able to keep up with all of the new courses. After the meal, Gaytri took us into the house to see the bride where she sat surrounded by some women friends or family. She was very pretty but very young.
After having eaten our fill, we all headed home. Devika and I were both glad to have someone to walk home with after dark.
Devika told me that the wedding feast differs greatly around the country. In Delhi, it is usually held in hotels or reception halls on long tables with real plates, rather than on the ground with leaf plates and people serving out of baskets. The food is also very regional, so what I eat up here wouldn't be eaten in Delhi or elsewhere.
Wedding season, in this region, has been going since October but it is now coming to an end. I am told that the weddings going on now are the last, and there won't be any more until this June. I believe that the times of year are designated as auspicious through some kind of astrology. This time of year, you can hardly walk down the road without spotting a tent archway or three that signifies a wedding or hearing the blaring music of a wedding band.
It certainly is exciting, but with wedding season over, things will get much quieter. As an added bonus, all of my coworkers are more likely to be around more regularly and not at some friend or relative's wedding. Things will slowly go back to normal.
It wasn't far at all from TARA Center. There must have been several hundred people packed into the courtyards of the housing complex. At the center of it all were the bride and groom. I have only ever been to the second day of a wedding, and then the couple have been out of sight, so this was something new to me. We watched the ceremony progress while waiting for our turn at the dham, the feast.
The couple sat underneath a small sort of tent pavilion made of painted wooden poles and decorated with tinsel, lights, wooden parrots. The bride was dressed in a fancy red and gold saalwar kameez, and her dupata was over her head and face the whole time like a veil. Her husband wore a pink turban, decked out with tinsel, and a paper vest sort of thing over the front of his shirt with even more colorful tinsel.
To my understanding, Indian's love tinsel. It's all over their Hindu shrines as well.
During the portion of the ceremony we watched, there was a sort of puja, worship. The girl's parents held a large conch shell over her head and prayed to the god Shiva while chant singing. All the while, she and her new husband knelt under the tent pavilion.
While we waited for the feast, I wound up sitting among a group of local girls, who struck up a conversation with me in English. Seeing it as a good chance to practice my Hindi, I stubbornly stayed out of my native language. The girls, however, seemed to think I know more Hindi than I do, but on the whole, it was fun to talk and practice with them.
The feast was an excellent one, with some of the best dham food I have had since being here. I'm certainly getting better at eating with my fingers, as I was able to keep up with all of the new courses. After the meal, Gaytri took us into the house to see the bride where she sat surrounded by some women friends or family. She was very pretty but very young.
After having eaten our fill, we all headed home. Devika and I were both glad to have someone to walk home with after dark.
Devika told me that the wedding feast differs greatly around the country. In Delhi, it is usually held in hotels or reception halls on long tables with real plates, rather than on the ground with leaf plates and people serving out of baskets. The food is also very regional, so what I eat up here wouldn't be eaten in Delhi or elsewhere.
Wedding season, in this region, has been going since October but it is now coming to an end. I am told that the weddings going on now are the last, and there won't be any more until this June. I believe that the times of year are designated as auspicious through some kind of astrology. This time of year, you can hardly walk down the road without spotting a tent archway or three that signifies a wedding or hearing the blaring music of a wedding band.
It certainly is exciting, but with wedding season over, things will get much quieter. As an added bonus, all of my coworkers are more likely to be around more regularly and not at some friend or relative's wedding. Things will slowly go back to normal.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Birthday Feast
Devika's birthday was this week and her parents came up from Delhi to surprise her. They were staying with a friend of theirs that her mother had met at a writing workshop about half an hour from Rakkar.
On the evening of her birthday, we all hopped into her parents' car and drove to the house where they were staying. It was a beautiful place even more out of the way than where we live. They greeted us around a little bonfire where one of the cooks of the house roasted chicken, vegetables, and paneer on kabobs over the open flame. I haven't had meat like that in a long time. It was really wonderful. In the mean time, I snuggled with their 1-month-old puppy. I do miss having clean healthy dogs around that you can pet without fear.
I did discover, however, that when people make lemonade around here, they like to put lots of salt into it. Next time I'll ask for no salt. After we feasted on the kebobs, we were surprised by a soup brought out to us. Then the told us that that was all merely the appetizer. We were invited inside for the real dinner.
There was more food than we could all eat together and it was all wonderful. I know I'm not the only one who stuffed herself just because the food was too good to stop eating. And then, of course, there was cake. Indian cake tends to be drier than American cake, with thick, sweet icing that almost seems like whipped cream. Different but delicious.
It was wonderful to be able to meet Devika's parents. They have extended an invitation to us to visit them when we are down in Delhi any time.
On the evening of her birthday, we all hopped into her parents' car and drove to the house where they were staying. It was a beautiful place even more out of the way than where we live. They greeted us around a little bonfire where one of the cooks of the house roasted chicken, vegetables, and paneer on kabobs over the open flame. I haven't had meat like that in a long time. It was really wonderful. In the mean time, I snuggled with their 1-month-old puppy. I do miss having clean healthy dogs around that you can pet without fear.
I did discover, however, that when people make lemonade around here, they like to put lots of salt into it. Next time I'll ask for no salt. After we feasted on the kebobs, we were surprised by a soup brought out to us. Then the told us that that was all merely the appetizer. We were invited inside for the real dinner.
There was more food than we could all eat together and it was all wonderful. I know I'm not the only one who stuffed herself just because the food was too good to stop eating. And then, of course, there was cake. Indian cake tends to be drier than American cake, with thick, sweet icing that almost seems like whipped cream. Different but delicious.
It was wonderful to be able to meet Devika's parents. They have extended an invitation to us to visit them when we are down in Delhi any time.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Eating
I was recently asked, “Do you get to eat Indian food all the time?” The answer to that is that I do as long as I learn to cook it myself. The truth of the situation is that there are essentially no restaurants in Rakkar and Sidhbari. Those that there are only serve chow mein and momos, the Tibetan name for Chinese dumplings. (A side note- fans of “Avatar: The Last Air Bender,” I would bet that those dumplings are where the name for the lemur came from.) The Knowledge Center is only a minute down the road from my house, so I have the luxury of eating at home for all of my meals if I am around.
For the first two or three months, there was really one dish that I knew how to make, and I made it several times a week with different variations. This is called subji (literally meaning vegetables). Around here, it is usually eating with a plain flour and water flat bread called roti. I usually have it with basmati rice instead. A few miserably failed attempts at roti early on discouraged me. As I am gaining more culinary bravery, I think I might try again, perhaps with supervision.
To give you an idea of what I have been eating, and to give you a chance to eat like I do, here's how I made subji. This recipe is based on what Anya taught me early on and my own experimentation. This serves two. You can do this with really any kind of vegetable. I use whatever is in season at the local stand. You can do just one vegetable or combine different types together. For my portions, a small to medium head of cauliflower or cabbage, two medium eggplants, or the equivalent is a good amount. I have done this with green beans, peas, squash, potatoes, carrots, and other vegetables as well. All measurements are approximate as I just use plain kitchen spoons to measure.
Basic Subji:
1 small tomato, diced
1 small onion, diced
2-3 cloves of garlic, minced
3 cardiumum seeds
1 tbs. cumin seeds*
1 tsp. garm masala**
1 tsp. salt
a pinch of red chili powder to taste
½ tsp. Turmeric
vegetable(s) of choice
1.The basic idea of Indian cooking is to start with spices in the oil before adding other ingredients. As such, put some oil (I use soy oil or mustard oil) in a wok and swirl to coat the sides. Once it is heated, add the cumin seeds and cardiumum seeds until they begin to crackle.
2.Then add the onion and garlic and fry until it begins to turn brown. Add the tomato and fry until the mixture begins to become a paste.
3.Add the remaining spices and stir them in. Add the vegetables with about a cup of water. Stir them around until coated. Reduce heat, cover, and let simmer until the vegetables are soft. Remove the lid and let the remaining water boil off. Serve hot with rice or roti.
* If you only have cumin powder, add this with the spices later on.
** garm masala is a common spice blend found in Northern India. You might be able to find this in the Asian food section of your grocery store or at an Asian market. Otherwise, you could duplicate this by combining the spices yourself.
Another staple of the north Indian diet is daal, lentils. At first, I didn't like daal very much, but when Kelly visited us in November, she introduced me to the secret ingredient she had discovered: soy sauce. I can't pretend that this is authentic daal, but it's how I like to make it.
A pressure cooker is a staple cooking tool here for everything from potatoes to rice to beans. Lentils are no exception. There are ways to make lentils without a pressure cooker, but it will take much longer. There are many types of lentils. I use the smallest yellow kind. As a rule, the smaller the grain, the shorter cooking time it takes. Without a pressure cooker, soak the lentils for two hours or so, then boil for a long time, covered, until they're tender. This again, serves two.
Daal:
½ cup lentils
1 small tomato, diced
½ small onion, diced
3-5 cloves of garlic, minced
1 tbs. mustard seeds
½ tsp. turmeric
2 tbs. Salt
1 tsp. garm masala
½ cup soy sauce (I've never measured it, this is just a guess at how much I pour in. It may be more.)
(Optional: some small vegetables like chopped green beans, corn, peas, or Japanese eggplant)
1.Cook the lentils. Put in a pressure cooker with 1 cup of water. For tiny daal, eight whistles should be enough. For average and larger daal, you will need between twelve and fourteen whistles.
2.In a wok, heat oil (soy oil works very well) and add mustard seeds, frying until they crackle. Add the garlic and onions until they begin to turn pink, then add the tomatoes and other vegetables, if any. Add the spices and mix thoroughly.
3.Add the lentils with 1 ½ cups of water. Mix it in with the other ingredients, then add the soy sauce. Reduce heat and cover for a few minutes until vegetables are tender. Uncover and boil off the remaining water. Serve with rice or roti.
As I mentioned, I have recently become more culinarily adventurous, but these two dishes still remain staples for me.
Last night, I wound up in McLeod Ganj for dinner with Anya. As we were both craving miso soup, we headed to my personal favorite restaurant, Lung Ta, the Japanese restaurant. The food is entirely vegetarian and very authentic, plus their service is very fast. As we settled into one of the corner tables where you sit on the floor on cushions Japanese style, we started to notice that we understood the language that the group of tourists was speaking next to us: Japanese.
We half-eavesdropped for most of the meal, both lamenting how our Japanese has gotten weaker since coming here and colored with Hindi words. By the end of the meal we worked up our courage and said hello to the tourists. We had a brief conversation in Japanese with them, and I only slipped into Hindi a couple of times. My Japanese came back pretty quickly, but for Anya who hasn't used it for nearly a year, she had a harder time. It was fun to practice as well as remind myself that I'm not a language dunce. It is frustrating after being good at a language to start over completely. Admittedly, I don't understand much Hindi in conversation around here, but I get by.
A recent discovery of mine, thanks to the shopping genius of Sonia, is the Monday Market in Dharmsala. Most stores are closed on Monday in Dharmsala. However, lots of private used and new clothing sellers line the street with tables or tarps, piled with clothes. The shoppers become a traffic hazard as they dart across the street looking for the best deals. As I somehow managed to get to India without any sweaters, that was my mission. I picked up one for 100 rupees and another for only 50 rupees. I passed a table full of sweatpants, and picked up a pair for 50 rupees, figuring they would make good pajamas when it gets colder. For under $4, I am now much better outfitted for winter.
The sweatpants had a tag still on them from Goodwill in the USA. Just how they got from Goodwill to Dharmshala, I will never know, but they would have cost me $4.50 in the US by that tag. I think I got a good deal.
For the first two or three months, there was really one dish that I knew how to make, and I made it several times a week with different variations. This is called subji (literally meaning vegetables). Around here, it is usually eating with a plain flour and water flat bread called roti. I usually have it with basmati rice instead. A few miserably failed attempts at roti early on discouraged me. As I am gaining more culinary bravery, I think I might try again, perhaps with supervision.
To give you an idea of what I have been eating, and to give you a chance to eat like I do, here's how I made subji. This recipe is based on what Anya taught me early on and my own experimentation. This serves two. You can do this with really any kind of vegetable. I use whatever is in season at the local stand. You can do just one vegetable or combine different types together. For my portions, a small to medium head of cauliflower or cabbage, two medium eggplants, or the equivalent is a good amount. I have done this with green beans, peas, squash, potatoes, carrots, and other vegetables as well. All measurements are approximate as I just use plain kitchen spoons to measure.
Basic Subji:
1 small tomato, diced
1 small onion, diced
2-3 cloves of garlic, minced
3 cardiumum seeds
1 tbs. cumin seeds*
1 tsp. garm masala**
1 tsp. salt
a pinch of red chili powder to taste
½ tsp. Turmeric
vegetable(s) of choice
1.The basic idea of Indian cooking is to start with spices in the oil before adding other ingredients. As such, put some oil (I use soy oil or mustard oil) in a wok and swirl to coat the sides. Once it is heated, add the cumin seeds and cardiumum seeds until they begin to crackle.
2.Then add the onion and garlic and fry until it begins to turn brown. Add the tomato and fry until the mixture begins to become a paste.
3.Add the remaining spices and stir them in. Add the vegetables with about a cup of water. Stir them around until coated. Reduce heat, cover, and let simmer until the vegetables are soft. Remove the lid and let the remaining water boil off. Serve hot with rice or roti.
* If you only have cumin powder, add this with the spices later on.
** garm masala is a common spice blend found in Northern India. You might be able to find this in the Asian food section of your grocery store or at an Asian market. Otherwise, you could duplicate this by combining the spices yourself.
Another staple of the north Indian diet is daal, lentils. At first, I didn't like daal very much, but when Kelly visited us in November, she introduced me to the secret ingredient she had discovered: soy sauce. I can't pretend that this is authentic daal, but it's how I like to make it.
A pressure cooker is a staple cooking tool here for everything from potatoes to rice to beans. Lentils are no exception. There are ways to make lentils without a pressure cooker, but it will take much longer. There are many types of lentils. I use the smallest yellow kind. As a rule, the smaller the grain, the shorter cooking time it takes. Without a pressure cooker, soak the lentils for two hours or so, then boil for a long time, covered, until they're tender. This again, serves two.
Daal:
½ cup lentils
1 small tomato, diced
½ small onion, diced
3-5 cloves of garlic, minced
1 tbs. mustard seeds
½ tsp. turmeric
2 tbs. Salt
1 tsp. garm masala
½ cup soy sauce (I've never measured it, this is just a guess at how much I pour in. It may be more.)
(Optional: some small vegetables like chopped green beans, corn, peas, or Japanese eggplant)
1.Cook the lentils. Put in a pressure cooker with 1 cup of water. For tiny daal, eight whistles should be enough. For average and larger daal, you will need between twelve and fourteen whistles.
2.In a wok, heat oil (soy oil works very well) and add mustard seeds, frying until they crackle. Add the garlic and onions until they begin to turn pink, then add the tomatoes and other vegetables, if any. Add the spices and mix thoroughly.
3.Add the lentils with 1 ½ cups of water. Mix it in with the other ingredients, then add the soy sauce. Reduce heat and cover for a few minutes until vegetables are tender. Uncover and boil off the remaining water. Serve with rice or roti.
As I mentioned, I have recently become more culinarily adventurous, but these two dishes still remain staples for me.
Last night, I wound up in McLeod Ganj for dinner with Anya. As we were both craving miso soup, we headed to my personal favorite restaurant, Lung Ta, the Japanese restaurant. The food is entirely vegetarian and very authentic, plus their service is very fast. As we settled into one of the corner tables where you sit on the floor on cushions Japanese style, we started to notice that we understood the language that the group of tourists was speaking next to us: Japanese.
We half-eavesdropped for most of the meal, both lamenting how our Japanese has gotten weaker since coming here and colored with Hindi words. By the end of the meal we worked up our courage and said hello to the tourists. We had a brief conversation in Japanese with them, and I only slipped into Hindi a couple of times. My Japanese came back pretty quickly, but for Anya who hasn't used it for nearly a year, she had a harder time. It was fun to practice as well as remind myself that I'm not a language dunce. It is frustrating after being good at a language to start over completely. Admittedly, I don't understand much Hindi in conversation around here, but I get by.
A recent discovery of mine, thanks to the shopping genius of Sonia, is the Monday Market in Dharmsala. Most stores are closed on Monday in Dharmsala. However, lots of private used and new clothing sellers line the street with tables or tarps, piled with clothes. The shoppers become a traffic hazard as they dart across the street looking for the best deals. As I somehow managed to get to India without any sweaters, that was my mission. I picked up one for 100 rupees and another for only 50 rupees. I passed a table full of sweatpants, and picked up a pair for 50 rupees, figuring they would make good pajamas when it gets colder. For under $4, I am now much better outfitted for winter.
The sweatpants had a tag still on them from Goodwill in the USA. Just how they got from Goodwill to Dharmshala, I will never know, but they would have cost me $4.50 in the US by that tag. I think I got a good deal.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
An Indian Thanksgiving
I apologize for not updating lately. Life has been busy with finishing up my English class, hanging out with Kelly (the Shansi fellow in Madurai who was up to visit for over half of the month), and not to mention participating in NaNoWriMo.
Last Thursday was Thanksgiving. That morning, some of us foreigners got talking and decided to arrange a Thanksgiving feast. With lots of confusion in between, Roni, Anya, Druve, Sonia, Brian, and I wound up going up to McLeod Ganj for dinner. Although over half of the group was vegetarian, both Brian and I thought it would hardly be Thanksgiving without some bird to eat. So, we went to the Korean restaurant and had sweet and sour chicken, among other things. It was a fantastic feast by a roaring fire in the fireplace.
After dinner, we stopped at the Japanese restaurant for lemon squares, then continued to Nick's Italian Kitchen for our pie. We wound up having cake or brownies and ice cream. Having stuffed ourselves silly, we went home satisfied.
Now that I have been here for three months, I am beginning to be a recognizable part of village life, I think. The other day, when I wasn't feeling so confident about my Hindi, I wanted to take two sets of fabric to the Royal Tailor to get new winter weight suits. I walked part way up the driveway, looked inside, and thought I didn't see the tailor, so I went on my way. I wound up doing this about two or three times over the course of the day.
The next day, I ran into the tailor by my house, asking why I hadn't come in the day before. I told him that I didn't see anyone there, but promised to stop by later that day. I did, handed over my fabric, and got my measurements taken again. They told me it would be done in about two or three weeks.
A few days later when I was walking home from Norbalinka where I had had breakfast with Devika and Roni, I ran into the tailor and his assistant going the other way. He greeted me with a respectful, “Namaskar Jenna,” and told me that because they were going somewhere in mid-December, they decided to get my suits done before the go. They gave me a new date a full ten days earlier than they originally planned. One thing that does amaze me is how well tailors keep track of dates. So, I'm looking forward to picking up my new suits on Thursday afternoon. This does mean that I need to get to work on hemming my dupata (scarves).
Another day, when I was walking back from Nishta, the school day was just finishing. Many of the children I passed practiced their, “Hello. How are you?” on me, but one little boy, who must have been eight or ten years old, tried to follow me very closely. That I walk very quickly for my height, and that he was half my size made this fact pretty obvious. He would scurry up beside me on one side of the road, fall behind, and then scurry up on my other side. Finally, I asked him his name and slowed my pace. We had a short conversation about where each other lived and what we did. It motivated me to go right home and study more Hindi.
Last Thursday was Thanksgiving. That morning, some of us foreigners got talking and decided to arrange a Thanksgiving feast. With lots of confusion in between, Roni, Anya, Druve, Sonia, Brian, and I wound up going up to McLeod Ganj for dinner. Although over half of the group was vegetarian, both Brian and I thought it would hardly be Thanksgiving without some bird to eat. So, we went to the Korean restaurant and had sweet and sour chicken, among other things. It was a fantastic feast by a roaring fire in the fireplace.
After dinner, we stopped at the Japanese restaurant for lemon squares, then continued to Nick's Italian Kitchen for our pie. We wound up having cake or brownies and ice cream. Having stuffed ourselves silly, we went home satisfied.
Now that I have been here for three months, I am beginning to be a recognizable part of village life, I think. The other day, when I wasn't feeling so confident about my Hindi, I wanted to take two sets of fabric to the Royal Tailor to get new winter weight suits. I walked part way up the driveway, looked inside, and thought I didn't see the tailor, so I went on my way. I wound up doing this about two or three times over the course of the day.
The next day, I ran into the tailor by my house, asking why I hadn't come in the day before. I told him that I didn't see anyone there, but promised to stop by later that day. I did, handed over my fabric, and got my measurements taken again. They told me it would be done in about two or three weeks.
A few days later when I was walking home from Norbalinka where I had had breakfast with Devika and Roni, I ran into the tailor and his assistant going the other way. He greeted me with a respectful, “Namaskar Jenna,” and told me that because they were going somewhere in mid-December, they decided to get my suits done before the go. They gave me a new date a full ten days earlier than they originally planned. One thing that does amaze me is how well tailors keep track of dates. So, I'm looking forward to picking up my new suits on Thursday afternoon. This does mean that I need to get to work on hemming my dupata (scarves).
Another day, when I was walking back from Nishta, the school day was just finishing. Many of the children I passed practiced their, “Hello. How are you?” on me, but one little boy, who must have been eight or ten years old, tried to follow me very closely. That I walk very quickly for my height, and that he was half my size made this fact pretty obvious. He would scurry up beside me on one side of the road, fall behind, and then scurry up on my other side. Finally, I asked him his name and slowed my pace. We had a short conversation about where each other lived and what we did. It motivated me to go right home and study more Hindi.
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