The Lookers

I may be on vacation but my lean muscle mass doesn't know that. I brought a skipping rope, yoga mat and resistance tube with me to continue on my fitness goals, aka Operation Find the Zipper on this Fat Suit.
After the swelling in my feet subsided (thanks for nothing, Dr. Scholl's compression stockings!), I was back to exercising- doing step ups and jumping rope out in front of the house and then doing my strength training and stretching in the air conditioned bedroom. I even jogged down the street and back today.
All with an audience most rapt. You see, folks, I am cawcajun white. And that is a rare thing to see around here. And staring at people is not bad manners, apparently. I knew this was the case from our last visit.
My complexion caused a few small traffic accidents. And not from exercising, just from walking in town.

 But it is just so...unnerving. I don't think people would be more shocked to see me if I was riding a unicycle and smoking a pipe. Sometimes their mouths gape in mid sentence. They call their friends to come and take a look. Sometimes they point and laugh. But mostly they just stare. And I can tell the ones who see me up close are mystified by my freckles and moles. I promise they're not contagious, guys.

Raja placates my complaints by reminding me that paler skin is prized in this culture. The women use "whitening creams" and I've also seen a little girl's face dusted with powder, making it greyish. *gags*
I tried to tell them that many white people go tanning and use "darkening creams" because they think being too white is unattractive and they'd rather be brown.  More crazy talk from the foreigner, I guess.

Raja has provided me with some rules to follow when dealing with particularly bad adult starers, (I usually  just smile at the kids), in order to not cause trouble.
1. No waving
2. No making binocular hands. They don't get that joke anyway.
3. Just ignore them.
4. It goes without saying that kissy lips and winking are out of the question too. Hilarity for me, yes, but shameful to a people who are unfamiliar with sarcasm.

Well, I broke rule #1 the other day. These two gents had stopped their motorcycle to take a good  long gander. It seems the menfolk are too busy gawking at me to notice my brood of children or that there is already a handsome man standing next to me, to whom I am married. So I waved at them. Raja was cross. He said that signals to them to come on over. They think I like them. Like maybe I'll ask one to take me to prom. He barely opened his mouth to tell them to take off and they were already gone.
Outrageously curious? Check. Afraid of confrontation? Double check.
I promised to be a very good foreign girl from then on. But I've still had a few slip ups. :)

In unrelated news, the baby girl my brother-in-law and sister-in-law adopted, is 21 days old today. Her astrology dictates that her name should start with a V so her parents chose one from a list off the internet. The custom is for her uncle to say her name into her ear. Then it becomes official. And being the sneaky feller he is, Uncle Raja added another middle name of his own choosing. And everyone was cool with it.

Vaibhavi Sri Sai Reddy

And then her last name. He added the Sri.