See him there? It's the squirmunk. The chipirrel. Google says it's an Indian Palm squirrel but what does Google know, really.
He's selling limes from that basket but we have a lime tree extending its branches into our yard so I'm pretty sure they're ours for the taking. But there are no avocados here so what's the point?! #guacamoleproblemz
Hard to see from the poor quality photo ie: my very best work- these are school children attending classes outside under the Banyan trees. Ammon said, and I quote, "Haha suckers." He'll likely feel otherwise in February when he returns to the lesser known 10th circle of hell in Dante's Inferno which is the super chilly one where a single pair of mittens just doesn't do the trick and noses are always red and runny and recess isn't fun.
Street dogs. :(
Raja buying my favourite vegetables for currying- angled gourd- which are few and far between in Canadian markets and also the kids getting chips- from a neighbourhood vendor.
Ammon is holding a tiny bag of sour cream and onion chips and that is why he is so happy. I've been fishtail braiding Maya's hair to try and impress people with my skill and I think it's working! Teja and Vera are rocking a hobo shabby-chic style which is less appreciated here, thus bringing my hair-styling street cred down several notches.
We took a picture under this same tree four years ago! I guess I could have cropped out that pedestrian but....oh well, she's part of the family now. I hope she likes spaghetti and staying quiet when mommy has a headache.
This is Raja's mom's twin sister's neighbour's daughter (got that? there's a quiz later) and I was unable to lure her into my clutches. I was forced to cuddle my own children instead, nicknamed Old News 1,2,3 and 4. Note this child is wearing heavy eye make-up. Babies wear more make-up than ladies here and I don't know why. But I'm pretty sure almost all the ladies use skin-lightening creams which makes me vomit with rage. This culture is so entrenched with colorism and I'm like, Not cool, dudes, beauty in all shades and such and they're like, Your ancestors were eating raw meat in caves when our civilization already had written literature and I'm all, Burn! And we go back and forth like that in my head for a bit.
So Vera asked me to put some make-up on her a couple days ago "since it's allowed here" and so I got out my blush/bronze compact and because she is awesome, when Vera saw it she asked for pink on one cheek and brown on the other. Rock 'n' roll! I couldn't do it. I'm such a coward.
Teja fell asleep at the twin aunt's house because Telugu conversations are hard to follow, despite being peppered with about 20% English. I was about ready to nod off myself but thanks to the magical gift of tetris on my phone, I remained an awake, though terribly rude guest! Yay! Just another scenario where I get away with bad behaviour because I am, say it with me, foreign! In truth, I'd like to follow the conversations but I feel bad for constantly pestering Raja to translate so I gave him a little rest.
Blah, blah, another flowering tree. Listen, we get it and at some point it starts to lose all meaning and it's just vulgar. Enough with the beauty already! (Jealousy speaking because we cut down our poplar and I own zero trees now except when those little sticks with two maple leaves pop up in the lawn and then I mow them down.)
Some contrast between pretty flowering plant life and heaps of disgusting garbage. Welcome to a beautiful, smelly, tropical, garbage dump paradise. My Indian readers are nodding their heads and shrugging their shoulders, "When she's right, she's right, folks."
Maya and Teja being lazy boneses, watching tv. There are a few English channels and sometimes they have English subtitles too. Sidenote: The movies on the Saudi Arabian flights blurred out the cleavage of all the female actors. Even the cartoony-fairies in that movie where Angelina Jolie is a super pretty skeletor (more so than usual) and has horns. (I didn't watch it)
6 foot tall Vera dozed off during her "stories". No problem because I love changing her into her pajamas while she sleep-screams and then I get to whip up a batch of pancakes at 3 o'clock in the morning. We're almost on the same schedule as our hosts now (only took a week!), except for the part where they sleep a meager six hours at night. That's not going to work for us.
I went out front a little later than last time for my "workout" (doesn't feel real without a class) this morning and it started getting light out near the end and I was like "abort! abort!" These people mustn't witness this. They will not understand these clothes. They will be horrified by what their eyes reveal to them! Lesson learned.
Imagine if you were the one who came here and you were the only non-Indian person many of these people ever see in their whole lives. They will always remember you. You will take up space in their brain filed under: The day I saw a foreign person- see attached photo. I blew my nose at the airport while we waited for our luggage to finish its fun on the merry-go-round and with kleenex-filled nostrils, looked up to see two dozen sets of eyes on me. People drive past me and at least for some, whatever they glimpse of me will become a memory and I'm just not down with that. I may sound like a narcissist (you're inferior if you think so!) but I feel a bit of pressure to look my best (hahaha) and behave and not, like, blow my nose.
My feet and ankles swelled (swole) up to proportions bordering on elephantitis from the long trip here so I always have to waddle around quite a bit the first few days after arriving and I complained to Raja that these people, many of whom are 75 lb grown adults, whom I try not to trample under my mighty, cankled limbs, are going to be umm.... frightened? If your kids are tweens (gross, I hate that word) you may have overheard Steven Universe singing a song with a refrain that goes "A giant woman! *echo* A giant woman!" And, anyway,it's been playing in my mind a lot lately. That is my experience. Ridiculous as it is. That's just me. :)
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