Goodbye Mothballs, Goodbye India

To be continued... There's no time to write about my last night in India, rooming with the cockroaches... Will write blurb in 48 hours... :0) hehehe

8 Ceremonies = 1 Wedding

As if five ceremonies in New Delhi weren’t enough, Nitya and Sharath’s friend, family, and I embarked on planes to go to Chennai and Bangalore to attend three more ceremonies for their wedding! During the days I visited the cities’ monuments, markets, and beaches and during the evenings I attended their events.
To be continued...

Tuesday - Sangeet

Sangeet was geared towards Nitya’s female friends and family to dance and celebrate her wedding. Nitya entered the room looking gorgeous in red. While she entered the room her brothers carried the “Sitaroon ki chaow mein” over her head. It means “under the shadow of the stars” which was composed of strung flowers and hanging medallions.
Sukhbir, a Bhangra singer, sang the night away. Sukhbir is based out of Dubai and is a fusion of Bhangra with rap, techno and reggae. I REALLY enjoyed his performance – and I could not believe he came all the way from Dubai to perform at Nitya’s wedding!!!

I also performed an Indian dance number with two other bridesmaids in front of EVERYONE during the ceremony. Fortunately, it was choreographed by two very talented Bollywood choreographers so it was pretty good! Toot toot! I’m tooting my own horn! Our dance, along with all of the other ceremonies was recorded by CBC, Canadian Broadcasting Corporations. CBC has been following us with their cameras all week, apparently they will be airing an episode on “the effects of Bollywood” on Canadian televisions in February 2008. What a small world!! What are the chances of a Canadian film group being involved in the wedding I am attending??!

Monday - Ring Ceremony

Every event seems to be getting better and better, and everyday Nitya seems to be getting more and more beautiful. Today, Nitya and Sharath exchanged engagement bands at Lutyens Hall. The ceremony was decorated Geisha/Japanese theme.
After the bride and groom exchanged diamond rings, Euphoria hit the stage. Euphoria is one of the most famous and successful bands in India. They were one of the first bands to bring rock culture to India. They mixed electric guitar with traditional instruments like the tabla, dholak and sitar which created a mesemerising effect. http://www.dhoom.com/

Sunday - Mehndi

At 10 a.m. Nitya’s close female friends and family members applied yellow Haldi onto her skin. We applied the paste from her feet upwards onto the rest of her body. Haldi is composed of turmeric powder; Indians believe it gives the bride a vibrant glow for their wedding events.
By noon, the mehndi artists began applying henna to Nitya’s hands and feet. Henna is drawn onto the hands and feet of the bride because that is where the color will be darkest since that skin contains higher levels of keratin which binds well with the henna. We all took turns feeding Nitya and keeping her company while the mehndi artists completed their elaborate work – it took them 3 hours to complete.
The entire evening was filled with a LARGE variety of wonderful foods and entertainment. The guests and I enjoyed Delhi’s famous singer, Anamika, along with astrologers, taro card readers, henna artists, airbrush tattoo artists, and free bangles to match our outfits.
Here’s a picture of Muskan and I at the party. She’s been the key to my heart since I have arrived. :0)

Saturday - Pakeezah

Pakeezah night was a bachelorette party for Nitya. Her basement and backyard was decorated magnificently like an episode from the hit MTV show “Sweet Sixteen”. We had a blast drinking shots, smoking Hookah, and watching the belly dancers. I danced the night away shaking my hips and twisting my hands in the air like an Indian.

Friday - Chowki

The first wedding ceremony had finally arrived! Amrish, the wedding planner, and his crew of 30 men set up a large tent and decorated the house for the Chowki ceremony. Chowki is a religious start for the entire 10 day event we’re embarking upon. We first chanted along with the priests and gave Nitya our blessings than sat on beautiful colored pillows, ate delicious foods, and enjoyed the fireworks. The entire event was beautiful - millions of flowers covered paths, trees, walls, gates, and banisters. The scent of fresh jasmine and orchid flowers filled the air.
The Bride and I :0)
Amrish, the wedding planner, and his beautiful floral decorations.

Arranged Marriage??!

I was taking a nap when Manoj, one of the servants, knocked on my door to tell me that Dr. Jain was outside waiting to speak to me. “Oh wonderful!” I thought. “I always look forward to speaking to Dr. Jain”. You see, everyday when I take my morning walk I see him and I stop to say hello and we chitchat since he is a kind neighbor. He is a very intelligent man, and I always enjoy speaking to him. When I ran outside to see him I found him and another man sitting side by side. “Nameste Dr. Jain! I haven’t seen you in quite some time. How have you been?” We conversed in small talk and he introduced me to his friend when shortly after he asked me if I would be interested in marrying his son. Trying to maintain my cool and a straight face I said, “But Sir, I’m not a Hindu. Wouldn’t that be a problem?” “Usually it would be, but you’re a very kind and smart girl so it would be okay.” I did my very best to think of another tactic that would get me out of this sticky situation, “But Sir I don’t speak Hindi”. “It’s okay you are intelligent and you’ll learn quickly.” “Would you like to see his picture and read his bio? Also, write your address on this piece of paper and he can come visit you and meet you at your home in Canada. He lives in Mumbai and you would both be very happy there.” Panicked and trying to find the very best solution to this problem I told them, “You see… My parents are both VERY strict and VERY religious. They are VERY particular about me marrying a Canadian Catholic boy” The Indian man responded, “But times are changing, you never know what’s going to happen?!” It wasn’t the response I had anticipated from what I thought a conservative Indian, but I informed them I had to leave to get ready for Nitya’s wedding ceremony. Without giving them my address, or agreeing to an arranged marriage, I quickly said “goodbye” and ran into the house giggling to myself.

Atithi Devo Bhavha

I arrived at Rao travel agency at 6a.m. in New Delhi to depart by mini van to the town of Agra. There, I embarked on a four hour journey to the Taj Mahal, Agra Fort, and Lord Krishna Temple along with four complete strangers. While driving we passed auto rickshaws crammed with people and camels pulling carts. At a truck stop an old man stopped by my window to entertain me with his music and dancing cobra.Once we arrived we visited the Agra Fort, a walled palatial city. The great Mughals Babur, Humayun, Akbar, Jehangir, Shah Jahan and Aurangzeb lived here, and the country was governed from the Fort. It once contained the largest state treasury and mint. It was visited by foreign ambassadors, travellers and the highest dignitaries who participated in making the history of India.
After visiting the Fort, the group and I were carried by camels to the Taj Mahal. My first reaction when I saw the famous World Heritage Site was, "Huh... It's not that big... But it sure is beautiful, peaceful, and serene!" The Taj Mahal was built under Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan in memory of his favourite wife, Mumtaz Mahal. The Taj is considered as the finest example of Mughal architecture, a style that combines elements from Persian, Turkish, Indian, and Islamic architectural styles. It took 20,000 workers and 22 years to build. Once the building was completed in 1643, the workers had their hands cut off so they could never again replicate its beauty.

Here's a pic of me kissing the Taj :0)Throughout the day the group of four strangers and I became the very best of friends. They treated me like a “Rani”, a princess. They made sure I was always accompanied to the bathroom, meals, and the monuments and translated everything to English. It was important to them that I was cared for since I was a foreigner and alone. When I came home I told Nandini, my Indian friend, about my tour group and their warm hospitality. She said, “You see Heidi; Indians believe in atithi devo bhavha. Guests who come to visit us are given the status of God. They may come at the most inconvenient hour, or show up without prior notice, yet they are given due respect and honor. They will be served in a manner that makes them feel immensely special”. I couldn’t believe how well the members of the tour group treated me, I felt special indeed.

Holy Shit!!!

I was 100 meters away from my car when my left barefoot landed in a large heap of cow poop. I looked down at the warm greenish mound and refrained myself from screaming like a young Western Girl. I told my friends that I would turn back to the car to clean my foot and sandal with my antiseptic cleaning wipes. “No, no, no, we’ll just continue walking to the Temple. There you will find running water.” I agreed in disbelief and convinced myself to stay calm. I walked for one kilometer with Holy poop on my foot before I arrived to the Temple. For those of you who do not know, cow dung is a source of fuel and fertiliser here and is often dried and used as coals to cook food. Cow dung is considered sacred among Hindus. I rushed to the bathroom to rinse my foot and sandle. The holy poop, would not come off of my NOW holy left foot; therefore, I had to scrape the holy poop off with my left hand. “Great! Now I have a holy left hand too!” After cleaning the poop off I walked towards my friends holding my left hand and foot as far away from my nose as possible.

Fit to be an Indian...

I’ve already crammed myself into one SUV with 16 other people like a true Indian, BUT it was confirmed by Nitya’s Uncle that I truly fit the Indian profile. After Nitya’s Uncle observed me negotiating, bargaining, and buying at several markets he sealed the deal and said, “You’re just like one of us now! In fact, you bargain better than most Indians!” His flattery made me feel good. BUT now looking at my cheap purchases I feel even better! Pants for 3$. Bangles for 1$. Purses for 2$. For those of you who would like my bargaining advice, I recommend offering the lowest price you are willing to pay and walking away. It works like a charm. Also, do not seem interested in the merchandise – be willing and able to walk away if they don’t accept your price :0)
I also visited the Lotus Temple. In brief, the lotus represents the Manifestation of God, and is also a symbol of purity and tenderness. Its significance is deeply rooted in the minds and hearts of Indians. In the epic poem Mahabharata, the Creator Brahma is described as having sprung from the lotus that grew out of Lord Vishnu's navel when that deity lay absorbed in meditation. There is a deep and universal reverence for the lotus, which is regarded as a sacred flower associated with worship throughout many centuries. The temple was built in 1986. On average of 3 1/2 million people visit the Lotus Temple in New Delhi every year.

Give thanks...

Here's an example of an Indian shower. Every morning male construction workers get up early to scrub themsleves with soap and rinse off with a hose. Usually they shower as a group. This is their time to socialize and laugh at passer byes - me!
Mothers of babies frequently cannot afford diapers. Here's a baby sitting in his own urine. We are SO BLESSED in North America. Let's all be a little more grateful of what we do have.

Peculiar Moments...

To forewarn you future Indian tourists: expect the unexpected in overwhelming India. Expect to see toddlers and children at intersections tapping on car windows for money. Expect to see lepers in markets asking for food or water. Expect to see cockroaches, mice, and grown adults rummaging through piles of garbage. Expect to see more men working and walking about on the streets since women are staying at home; cooking, cleaning, and caring for their children. Expect to see index fingers knuckle deep in nostrils and people openly burping and farting: lacking an “excuse me”.

The other day I saw two men and a calf riding on a motorcycle. The baby cow was sandwiched between them. I also saw Indians climbing on roofs of moving buses and people hanging onto the exteriors of cars to commute home.

Also, expect to see men frequently holding hands, hugging, and affectionately touching each other. For those of you who do not know, there is no public display of affection between a man and a woman in India. BUT - affection between two men IS sociably acceptable. And NO, they’re not gay. My theory is they lack the touch of a woman, therefore; they touch each other (their friends). I must admit, I still giggle when I see male construction workers and police officers with riffles holding hands! It’s so peculiar!!!

Beautiful desert??!

“On Friday, I have a photo shoot I have to attend too. The photographer will take pictures of Sharath and I. We’ll be driving on the Jaipur highway in my blue antique car and we’ll stop to take pictures as soon as we find a desert setting. Would you like to come?” Nitya asked. “Of course – I’ve never been to the desert” I replied.
Friday arrived and we all prepared ourselves for the photo shoot. Nitya and Sharath dressed in white; they both looked gorgeous. The Wedding Planner, Makeup Artist, Photographer, Nitya, her Mother, Sharath, and I got into 3 separate cars when it suddenly began to rain. “What are we going to do now?” I asked the Photographer. Nitya began pacing back in forth in a panic. “Don’t worry about it” replied the Wedding Planner “It’s my problem, I should have verified the weather before organizing this event”. The Photographer began to giggle, “You are the Monsoon Wedding Planner, this was bound to happen”. We all began to laugh since Amrish, the Wedding Planner, designed the sets for Bollywood’s popular movie “Monsoon Wedding”. The Wedding Planner and the Photographer decided to move forward with the photo shoot, they crossed their fingers for better weather and sunshine.
The beautiful desert scene wasn’t what I had anticipated. We pulled over at a dodgy truck stop with hills and sand in the background. I stepped out of the car almost landing my foot in a heap of cow poop. I held my breathe in result of the foul smells and roadside garbage. I stood back as Nitya and her fiancé posed for pictures. Cars began pulling over in curiosity. “What’s going on?” they must have thought. “They must be famous! Maybe they’re posing for an upcoming commercial, or better yet a Bollywood movie!” I began panicking as I realized that I had to go pee. Unfortunately, there were no bathrooms nearby. I saw a farm across the highway and decided that would be the ideal location. Nitya came with me to be my guard. As I began pulling down my pants, a curious mother and her children came out of the bushes. “Go pee over there” she recommended in Hindi. I took her advice as I stepped over mounds of millions of ants – YUCK! I tried three times to pee, but I couldn’t – I was bladder shy. It wasn’t helping that the Indian woman and her children were starring at me. “Nitya, please tell her to stop looking at me! What does she want to see? A White bum?” Finally, Nitya shooed them away and I peed in relief.
On the way home, I decided that I wanted to ride in the blue antique car with Nitya, Sharath, and her friend Jitin. We sang songs to our songless radio and ignored the Indian stares. Our car halted to traffic. We sat patiently in fumes while we crawled closer to a blocked intersection. As I looked up I saw police officers waving traffic forward and side to side. As soon as I made eye contact with the police officer he specifically waved our car to the side of the road. “Crap” I thought. “I should have kept my eyes down”. He walked towards our parked car. “Can I see your registration papers?” he asked. “Phew… He didn’t ask for my passport or ID” I thought. Jitin and Sharath explained that we didn’t have registration papers since it was an antique car. The police officer smirked while looking down Nitya’s top. Jitin handed over 500 rupees (12$) and the police officer waved us through. I couldn’t believe he pulled us over: A.) Because there was a White passenger in the car (Me!) and B.) Because we were driving a nice antique car – He assumed that we had money. Police Officers are corrupt in India, they take people’s money when they can, and pocket it for their own benefit.