20 April 2009
I'm ba-ack!
I haven't been gone, just haven't had time to write. The main thing that has happened since last I wrote is that Mummy went back to India at the end of March. That was really hard--she became part of our household, and made our house more of a home by her presence. We both miss her a lot now that she's back in India. A couple more posts to come today, if I have time...
19 February 2009
Answering Questions
I've had the flu for the past several days, so the blog post about stuffed shimla mirch that I have been planning has fallen by the wayside. However, answering questions about my relationship doesn't take as much energy, so that's what I'm doing today. I got the idea from Gorigirl. If you like the idea and do it yourself on your own blog, link back here. Otherwise you could do it in the comments here.
What are your middle names?
V doesn't have a middle name, since oftentimes middle names aren't given to Indian kids. I don't know why, it seems a little sad! Plus, it seems like with a first name and a middle name, each parent would get some input on naming their babies. I know that we plan to give our own kids a Hindi first name and a western middle name.
I don't want to tell my own middle name here. Although it's a perfectly beautiful name in English, and was the name of my mom’s favorite teacher from the sixth grade, it has a particularly unfortunate meaning in Hindi. It’s so bad that my husband and I don’t want to reveal it to anyone else in his family.
How long have you been together?
Since January 2005. Time flies when you’re having fun!
How long did you know each other before you started dating?
A few days. We met one night, talked on the phone a little bit, and then went out on a date.
Who asked whom out?
V asked me out.
How old are each of you?
We’re in our late 20s. Our birthdays are only three days apart, so we always celebrate our birthdays together.
Whose siblings do you see the most?
We see my sister the most, since she lives nearby and V’s sisters unfortunately live on the other side of the world from us. We talk to his sisters on the phone every few days though.
Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Money issues, but those are improving as my career becomes more established and V finishes grad school.
Did you go to the same school?
We both went to Virginia Tech for grad school: me for my master’s in English, V for his PhD in chemical engineering.
Are you from the same home town?
As Gorigirl said in her post, “Hahahahahahaha! No.” I think V is probably from the most complete and utter opposite place possible (New Delhi) from the tiny little Southwest Virginia redneck/hippie town where I grew up.
Who is smarter?
I don’t know if that’s a fair question. When it comes to language, literature, or history, then I would be. But in math, science, or logic, V is smarter. He’s also much better with money and practical things than I am. Edited to add: Oh, who the hell am I kidding: he's a CHEMICAL ENGINEER. Gaaah!
Who is the most sensitive?
I am. I cry at the drop of a hat and always have.
Where do you eat out most as a couple?
El Rodeo, the local Mexican restaurant. I’ve trained V to say in Spanish “quiero salsa mas picante” because the salsa they usually give tastes like plain tomatoes to our palates (used as we are to incredibly spicy food), and the busboys who bring the chips and salsa usually don’t speak English.
Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
India—Delhi, Jaipur, Agra, McLeodganj.
Who has the worst temper?
V has the worst temper, but I like it that with him you know where you stand. No passive-aggressiveness, which I hate.
Who does the cooking?
We both do the cooking, 50/50 Indian and western. I make breakfast every day. Cooking is one of our hobbies together, and we have taught Indian cooking classes at the local gourmet store several times.
Who is the neat-freak?
I’m more of a neat freak, but without much extra time or energy after working all week to actually follow through on my neat-freakiness. I keep the house to an acceptable standard of cleanliness but I dream of the day I can hire someone to come in and help once every week or two.
Who is more stubborn?
V is more stubborn, but we’re both true Tauruses.
Who hogs the bed?
The cats hog the bed. I cuddle up to be close to poor V, who gets gradually pushed closer and closer to the edge of the bed as the night goes on.
Who wakes up earlier?
I wake up earlier, because I like to go jogging or do yoga in the mornings before getting ready for work. Then I make coffee and breakfast for both of us. I have a feeling these halcyon days of leisurely mornings won’t last much longer after V gets his PhD and a regular job.
Where was your first date?
We met with friends to go dancing at a now-closed nightclub. But I think our first “date” date as a couple was to go see the Audubon Quartet perform at Tech, and then for coffee at Starbucks.
Who is more jealous?
Neither of us has any reason to be jealous.
How long did it take to get serious?
We got serious within several weeks. “Dating” just isn’t done so much in Indian culture, and once V knew that he wanted to be serious with me that’s what he did. He’s a very decisive man.
Who eats more?
V eats more. I think it would be pretty weird if I ate more than him! He prefers rotis instead of rice with dinner and can eat three times as many as I can.
Who does the laundry?
I do the laundry. Chores for us tend to fall (except for cooking and shopping, which we do together) along traditional gender lines. That’s all right with me, since with my master’s in English and his PhD in chemical engineering, we’ll never split our salaries evenly either.
Who’s better with the computer?
V is better with the computer. I know enough to do my job at work and to do email or web surfing in my free time.
Who drives when you are together?
V usually drives, although in snow or ice I feel more comfortable driving. I learned to drive in snowy or icy conditions in my teens, so I know how to avoid skids or getting stuck without having to think about it or get nervous.
What are your middle names?
V doesn't have a middle name, since oftentimes middle names aren't given to Indian kids. I don't know why, it seems a little sad! Plus, it seems like with a first name and a middle name, each parent would get some input on naming their babies. I know that we plan to give our own kids a Hindi first name and a western middle name.
I don't want to tell my own middle name here. Although it's a perfectly beautiful name in English, and was the name of my mom’s favorite teacher from the sixth grade, it has a particularly unfortunate meaning in Hindi. It’s so bad that my husband and I don’t want to reveal it to anyone else in his family.
How long have you been together?
Since January 2005. Time flies when you’re having fun!
How long did you know each other before you started dating?
A few days. We met one night, talked on the phone a little bit, and then went out on a date.
Who asked whom out?
V asked me out.
How old are each of you?
We’re in our late 20s. Our birthdays are only three days apart, so we always celebrate our birthdays together.
Whose siblings do you see the most?
We see my sister the most, since she lives nearby and V’s sisters unfortunately live on the other side of the world from us. We talk to his sisters on the phone every few days though.
Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Money issues, but those are improving as my career becomes more established and V finishes grad school.
Did you go to the same school?
We both went to Virginia Tech for grad school: me for my master’s in English, V for his PhD in chemical engineering.
Are you from the same home town?
As Gorigirl said in her post, “Hahahahahahaha! No.” I think V is probably from the most complete and utter opposite place possible (New Delhi) from the tiny little Southwest Virginia redneck/hippie town where I grew up.
Who is smarter?
I don’t know if that’s a fair question. When it comes to language, literature, or history, then I would be. But in math, science, or logic, V is smarter. He’s also much better with money and practical things than I am. Edited to add: Oh, who the hell am I kidding: he's a CHEMICAL ENGINEER. Gaaah!
Who is the most sensitive?
I am. I cry at the drop of a hat and always have.
Where do you eat out most as a couple?
El Rodeo, the local Mexican restaurant. I’ve trained V to say in Spanish “quiero salsa mas picante” because the salsa they usually give tastes like plain tomatoes to our palates (used as we are to incredibly spicy food), and the busboys who bring the chips and salsa usually don’t speak English.
Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
India—Delhi, Jaipur, Agra, McLeodganj.
Who has the worst temper?
V has the worst temper, but I like it that with him you know where you stand. No passive-aggressiveness, which I hate.
Who does the cooking?
We both do the cooking, 50/50 Indian and western. I make breakfast every day. Cooking is one of our hobbies together, and we have taught Indian cooking classes at the local gourmet store several times.
Who is the neat-freak?
I’m more of a neat freak, but without much extra time or energy after working all week to actually follow through on my neat-freakiness. I keep the house to an acceptable standard of cleanliness but I dream of the day I can hire someone to come in and help once every week or two.
Who is more stubborn?
V is more stubborn, but we’re both true Tauruses.
Who hogs the bed?
The cats hog the bed. I cuddle up to be close to poor V, who gets gradually pushed closer and closer to the edge of the bed as the night goes on.
Who wakes up earlier?
I wake up earlier, because I like to go jogging or do yoga in the mornings before getting ready for work. Then I make coffee and breakfast for both of us. I have a feeling these halcyon days of leisurely mornings won’t last much longer after V gets his PhD and a regular job.
Where was your first date?
We met with friends to go dancing at a now-closed nightclub. But I think our first “date” date as a couple was to go see the Audubon Quartet perform at Tech, and then for coffee at Starbucks.
Who is more jealous?
Neither of us has any reason to be jealous.
How long did it take to get serious?
We got serious within several weeks. “Dating” just isn’t done so much in Indian culture, and once V knew that he wanted to be serious with me that’s what he did. He’s a very decisive man.
Who eats more?
V eats more. I think it would be pretty weird if I ate more than him! He prefers rotis instead of rice with dinner and can eat three times as many as I can.
Who does the laundry?
I do the laundry. Chores for us tend to fall (except for cooking and shopping, which we do together) along traditional gender lines. That’s all right with me, since with my master’s in English and his PhD in chemical engineering, we’ll never split our salaries evenly either.
Who’s better with the computer?
V is better with the computer. I know enough to do my job at work and to do email or web surfing in my free time.
Who drives when you are together?
V usually drives, although in snow or ice I feel more comfortable driving. I learned to drive in snowy or icy conditions in my teens, so I know how to avoid skids or getting stuck without having to think about it or get nervous.
27 January 2009
The Visa Odyssey
Before we went to India, I mentioned our issues with getting my MIL a visa interview appointment (getting one seemed like finding hens’ teeth!). Obviously, since she came back with us, everything worked out—but I thought I’d describe our experience since it may be of some use to someone. For myself, it was a fascinating experience, being put through the wringer of US government bureaucracy and seeing things from both sides: the American and the Indian perspective.
First of all, it’s not that easy to simply apply to sponsor a family member’s visitor visa. We spent many months preparing as thoroughly as we possibly could because we didn’t want anything to go wrong and for the application fee to be wasted. The absolute best resource for us as we prepared was a website called ImmiHelp. There are information pages, lists of what you might need, and forums where you can ask questions.
The scariest thing ahead of time was that everything that we read and heard indicated that it is next to impossible for a widow who owns very little property, has no job, and whose children are all married (and only son is in the US). That’s because the government considers that she would be more likely to come here and not go back at the end of her allowed stay.
We had to save up enough money in the bank to prove that we could support her; get letters from our employers proving that we actually have jobs; copies of tax returns for the past couple years; write invitation letters to her and letters to the consulate explaining the reason for her visit and why she would go back to India after her trip; get an invitation letter from the university for V’s PhD graduation; copies of our passports, birth certificates, etc. Mummy had to get proof of all her property and basically everything she owns; photos of her with her kids and grandkids in India (to prove that she has a reason to go back); and her own passport and other documents. All the materials we gathered together filled one big folder. We organized everything with tabs so that in the interview, Mummy would be able to turn to the correct item when the interview officer asked for it without making them impatient.
The process for getting a visa interview requires that you fill out a form at the embassy’s website and get an interview time online. Since we have faster and more available internet here, we took turns at all times of the day and night—for literally months—to get an interview time. Only a few interview slots are released at a time, and they go within seconds because there are so many other people who are trying to get appointments. It was even harder because we wanted a Hindi interview, not an English one, and those are in very high demand.
Finally it was coming close to the time when we were going to be going to India ourselves. We planned to bring Mummy back with us on our way back so that she wouldn’t have to fly alone to the US on her first trip here. We got more and more frantic about getting a Hindi interview, and finally I threw up my hands and started looking for English interviews instead. Mummy had been taking English tutoring anyway, so we just crossed our fingers and hoped that she’d be able to speak and understand it well enough to get through the interview. I was starting to lose hope of getting even an English interview when one day there was one available! My heart almost pounded out of my chest, I was so excited.
With Mummy’s interview appointment papers in hand, we were off to India! For many days before her appointment, we quizzed her with all the possible questions the interview officer might ask. We did drills in finding certain documents fast enough when we asked for them. We coached her to smile, be confident, and make sure to give our cover letter, the graduation invitation, and the email of support from our congressman’s office first thing before anything else. Still, we were very nervous about her chances of getting the visa.
The morning of the interview we all got up early and had breakfast and called a driver to take us to the embassy. Mummy dressed very carefully in a beautiful ecru sari with floral embroidery and her best pearl jewelry. We planned to take her to the gate and sit and wait for her until she was done. My husband told me to bring my US passport, just in case, so I did.
That was the best piece of luck of the whole day, I think. As Mummy was waiting in the very long line just to get inside the embassy, I decided to see if I’d be allowed to use the embassy ladies’ room. With my US passport, I was able to go right on in with no waiting and then come back out afterward. This was encouraging—we didn’t know that it would be that easy for me to go in too. So we asked at the window and it turned out that since I am a US citizen, I was allowed to accompany Mummy in to the embassy. Very sternly, the attendant at the window said, “yes, but you can’t go into her interview!” Well, then, that’s better than nothing, I thought.
So into the embassy Mummy and I went. It was extremely busy and crowded with very long lines. I decided that it would be better and less tiring for her if she could sit down while I stood in line for her. So first I stood in the line for fingerprinting for about an hour, calling her over when it was her turn. As we waited, I decided to ask if any Hindi translators were available—but no such luck. I kept giving Mummy little pep talks and trying to keep her from getting too nervous. Of course as the only white person standing in line, I attracted a certain amount of attention, but I’m pretty used to that by now so I made myself comfortable for the long wait.
Next we had to go stand in the incredibly long line to wait to be called to the interview window. This part was pretty fun for me: first of all, I was able to watch people as they went up for their interviews, and listen in to see how things went. There were only two windows open out of the 14 or so that were actually there. It looked like most people were getting their visas, which made me feel a little better. Another thing that was fun about the wait was the atmosphere: everyone was a bit nervous, but with a jolly sort of camaraderie too. Sort of like, “here we all are in this horribly long line, but we’ll make the best of it together and chat with each other and make it fun.” I met a few friendly people in line, some of whom had more experience with these interviews, and so I was able to talk about our situation with them and get their tips or advice. We also watched the people who went to the interview window and speculated about what they were doing right or wrong, or whether they’d get their visas or not. For entertainment, there was also a large screen TV next to the line showing the India-Australia cricket test match that was going on at that time. I probably saw the Saif Ali Khan / Shah Rukh Khan “I miss you so much it hurts” cell phone commercial 20 times (I love that commercial though, dork that I am). Every once in a while, Mummy would get up from her seat and see how things were coming along, and I’d tell her to go and rest because the wait would still be more than an hour.
Another interview window opened up during this time. It was window number 13. My line mates and I saw that the woman giving interviews at that window wasn’t as friendly, and seemed to be rejecting more people than at the other windows. As I got closer to the front, I prayed that I would not have to go to window 13. There were two other interview officers, and we saw that they could speak Hindi pretty well, so that was an encouraging thing to see in case Mummy got too nervous. One guy in line with me told me that I should just go up to the window with Mummy, even though I’d been told that I couldn’t do that, just to see what would happen. “What’s the worst they can do, tell you no?” So I decided to do that when it was our turn. We got to the front, and my line mates and I wished each other good luck. The best thing was that window 13 closed before it was our turn—whew, unlucky 13 was not our number!
Our turn came. I walked confidently up to the window with Mummy, where a girl about my age was to conduct the interview. She smiled at me and asked “are you here to translate, or are you just here for moral support?” My heart raced—I’d be allowed to stay during the interview!! I told her that I was just there for moral support, and showed her my passport and told her how I was related to Mummy. Then we got down to business.
Mummy slid her application form and passport through the slot in the window, and then she showed the officer the cover letter we’d written, the graduation invitation, and our congressman’s email of support. The first thing the officer said when she saw the invitation was “oh, Virginia Tech—Go Hokies!!” The last thing I expected to find all the way around the world was another Hokie!! But it turned out that she had actually been born and raised in a county not far from Virginia Tech and also not far from where I was born and raised. What luck—it was an immediate rapport-builder.
Then she got down to asking the questions to Mummy. At first I tried to just stay quiet and give moral support, but Mummy was starting to get flustered. She accidentally answered the question about “do you have any other kids” by saying “no” when in fact she has three other kids. I decided to jump in and help. I reminded Mummy of the answers when she was flustered, and then I started to answer some of the questions myself when it seemed like that would make things easier. The interview officer started to ask me questions too, such as where I work, what I do, what my husband does, etc.
The questions she asked (that I can remember) were:
1. Where will you be staying in the US?
2. How long do you plan to stay there?
3. How will you pay for your trip?
4. How many other children do you have besides your son?
5. Where do they live?
6. What do they do?
7. What is your marital status?
8. How long has it been since your husband died?
9. What does your son do? Does he work anywhere else besides being a student?
10. What does your daughter in law do?
Once or twice the interview officer left the window with the documents and then came back. On the last time she did this, she came back and said, “Congratulations, your passport with the visa will be delivered to your home address.” Just like that! We got our papers back, and I started to jump up and down and squeal and hug Mummy! Everyone else in the waiting area probably thought I was pagal (nuts). We were so happy! We went outside in a daze, and I ran down the sidewalk to my husband and didi, whooping that we did it! We did it! I was so happy that I gave all the change and smaller bills in my purse to some small children on the sidewalk.
When the visa came, it was for a 10-year multiple entry visa. How thrilling! It’s definitely true that much of our success was pure luck, but we were also so well-prepared that it made things much easier. It’s been so nice having Mummy here for a long visit, and it’s great to know that she’ll also be able to come back any time she wants in the next 10 years.
First of all, it’s not that easy to simply apply to sponsor a family member’s visitor visa. We spent many months preparing as thoroughly as we possibly could because we didn’t want anything to go wrong and for the application fee to be wasted. The absolute best resource for us as we prepared was a website called ImmiHelp. There are information pages, lists of what you might need, and forums where you can ask questions.
The scariest thing ahead of time was that everything that we read and heard indicated that it is next to impossible for a widow who owns very little property, has no job, and whose children are all married (and only son is in the US). That’s because the government considers that she would be more likely to come here and not go back at the end of her allowed stay.
We had to save up enough money in the bank to prove that we could support her; get letters from our employers proving that we actually have jobs; copies of tax returns for the past couple years; write invitation letters to her and letters to the consulate explaining the reason for her visit and why she would go back to India after her trip; get an invitation letter from the university for V’s PhD graduation; copies of our passports, birth certificates, etc. Mummy had to get proof of all her property and basically everything she owns; photos of her with her kids and grandkids in India (to prove that she has a reason to go back); and her own passport and other documents. All the materials we gathered together filled one big folder. We organized everything with tabs so that in the interview, Mummy would be able to turn to the correct item when the interview officer asked for it without making them impatient.
The process for getting a visa interview requires that you fill out a form at the embassy’s website and get an interview time online. Since we have faster and more available internet here, we took turns at all times of the day and night—for literally months—to get an interview time. Only a few interview slots are released at a time, and they go within seconds because there are so many other people who are trying to get appointments. It was even harder because we wanted a Hindi interview, not an English one, and those are in very high demand.
Finally it was coming close to the time when we were going to be going to India ourselves. We planned to bring Mummy back with us on our way back so that she wouldn’t have to fly alone to the US on her first trip here. We got more and more frantic about getting a Hindi interview, and finally I threw up my hands and started looking for English interviews instead. Mummy had been taking English tutoring anyway, so we just crossed our fingers and hoped that she’d be able to speak and understand it well enough to get through the interview. I was starting to lose hope of getting even an English interview when one day there was one available! My heart almost pounded out of my chest, I was so excited.
With Mummy’s interview appointment papers in hand, we were off to India! For many days before her appointment, we quizzed her with all the possible questions the interview officer might ask. We did drills in finding certain documents fast enough when we asked for them. We coached her to smile, be confident, and make sure to give our cover letter, the graduation invitation, and the email of support from our congressman’s office first thing before anything else. Still, we were very nervous about her chances of getting the visa.
The morning of the interview we all got up early and had breakfast and called a driver to take us to the embassy. Mummy dressed very carefully in a beautiful ecru sari with floral embroidery and her best pearl jewelry. We planned to take her to the gate and sit and wait for her until she was done. My husband told me to bring my US passport, just in case, so I did.
That was the best piece of luck of the whole day, I think. As Mummy was waiting in the very long line just to get inside the embassy, I decided to see if I’d be allowed to use the embassy ladies’ room. With my US passport, I was able to go right on in with no waiting and then come back out afterward. This was encouraging—we didn’t know that it would be that easy for me to go in too. So we asked at the window and it turned out that since I am a US citizen, I was allowed to accompany Mummy in to the embassy. Very sternly, the attendant at the window said, “yes, but you can’t go into her interview!” Well, then, that’s better than nothing, I thought.
So into the embassy Mummy and I went. It was extremely busy and crowded with very long lines. I decided that it would be better and less tiring for her if she could sit down while I stood in line for her. So first I stood in the line for fingerprinting for about an hour, calling her over when it was her turn. As we waited, I decided to ask if any Hindi translators were available—but no such luck. I kept giving Mummy little pep talks and trying to keep her from getting too nervous. Of course as the only white person standing in line, I attracted a certain amount of attention, but I’m pretty used to that by now so I made myself comfortable for the long wait.
Next we had to go stand in the incredibly long line to wait to be called to the interview window. This part was pretty fun for me: first of all, I was able to watch people as they went up for their interviews, and listen in to see how things went. There were only two windows open out of the 14 or so that were actually there. It looked like most people were getting their visas, which made me feel a little better. Another thing that was fun about the wait was the atmosphere: everyone was a bit nervous, but with a jolly sort of camaraderie too. Sort of like, “here we all are in this horribly long line, but we’ll make the best of it together and chat with each other and make it fun.” I met a few friendly people in line, some of whom had more experience with these interviews, and so I was able to talk about our situation with them and get their tips or advice. We also watched the people who went to the interview window and speculated about what they were doing right or wrong, or whether they’d get their visas or not. For entertainment, there was also a large screen TV next to the line showing the India-Australia cricket test match that was going on at that time. I probably saw the Saif Ali Khan / Shah Rukh Khan “I miss you so much it hurts” cell phone commercial 20 times (I love that commercial though, dork that I am). Every once in a while, Mummy would get up from her seat and see how things were coming along, and I’d tell her to go and rest because the wait would still be more than an hour.
Another interview window opened up during this time. It was window number 13. My line mates and I saw that the woman giving interviews at that window wasn’t as friendly, and seemed to be rejecting more people than at the other windows. As I got closer to the front, I prayed that I would not have to go to window 13. There were two other interview officers, and we saw that they could speak Hindi pretty well, so that was an encouraging thing to see in case Mummy got too nervous. One guy in line with me told me that I should just go up to the window with Mummy, even though I’d been told that I couldn’t do that, just to see what would happen. “What’s the worst they can do, tell you no?” So I decided to do that when it was our turn. We got to the front, and my line mates and I wished each other good luck. The best thing was that window 13 closed before it was our turn—whew, unlucky 13 was not our number!
Our turn came. I walked confidently up to the window with Mummy, where a girl about my age was to conduct the interview. She smiled at me and asked “are you here to translate, or are you just here for moral support?” My heart raced—I’d be allowed to stay during the interview!! I told her that I was just there for moral support, and showed her my passport and told her how I was related to Mummy. Then we got down to business.
Mummy slid her application form and passport through the slot in the window, and then she showed the officer the cover letter we’d written, the graduation invitation, and our congressman’s email of support. The first thing the officer said when she saw the invitation was “oh, Virginia Tech—Go Hokies!!” The last thing I expected to find all the way around the world was another Hokie!! But it turned out that she had actually been born and raised in a county not far from Virginia Tech and also not far from where I was born and raised. What luck—it was an immediate rapport-builder.
Then she got down to asking the questions to Mummy. At first I tried to just stay quiet and give moral support, but Mummy was starting to get flustered. She accidentally answered the question about “do you have any other kids” by saying “no” when in fact she has three other kids. I decided to jump in and help. I reminded Mummy of the answers when she was flustered, and then I started to answer some of the questions myself when it seemed like that would make things easier. The interview officer started to ask me questions too, such as where I work, what I do, what my husband does, etc.
The questions she asked (that I can remember) were:
1. Where will you be staying in the US?
2. How long do you plan to stay there?
3. How will you pay for your trip?
4. How many other children do you have besides your son?
5. Where do they live?
6. What do they do?
7. What is your marital status?
8. How long has it been since your husband died?
9. What does your son do? Does he work anywhere else besides being a student?
10. What does your daughter in law do?
Once or twice the interview officer left the window with the documents and then came back. On the last time she did this, she came back and said, “Congratulations, your passport with the visa will be delivered to your home address.” Just like that! We got our papers back, and I started to jump up and down and squeal and hug Mummy! Everyone else in the waiting area probably thought I was pagal (nuts). We were so happy! We went outside in a daze, and I ran down the sidewalk to my husband and didi, whooping that we did it! We did it! I was so happy that I gave all the change and smaller bills in my purse to some small children on the sidewalk.
When the visa came, it was for a 10-year multiple entry visa. How thrilling! It’s definitely true that much of our success was pure luck, but we were also so well-prepared that it made things much easier. It’s been so nice having Mummy here for a long visit, and it’s great to know that she’ll also be able to come back any time she wants in the next 10 years.
15 January 2009
A Delhi Must-Eat
I've been to India twice now, and one must-visit place tops my list of must-eat foods while in India: Paranthawali Gali, in Chandni Chowk, for hot and fresh paranthas! Chandni Chowk is the bustling and crowded old part of the city, with winding maze-like lanes and galis. The shopping can't be missed--my favorite are the jewelry and sari shops.
On this past trip, we went to Chandni Chowk on a mission to find a piece of jewelry for me and a sari for Mummy. Then we went for dinner to Paranthawali Gali to a famous parantha stall where you can get one of the most incredible meals for only about .50 USD!
Here is the menu:
My former Hindi teacher, Raag, will be so proud of me, because I can read the whole thing. Just a few, starting from the top, include paranthas stuffed with aloo (potato), dal (lentil), methi (fenugreek), gobi (cauliflower), mooli (radish), matter (pea), etc. I love the mooli and gobi ones best, but the chilli ones were a pleasant new discovery on this trip. V likes the paneer and the chilli ones best.
When you sit down in the tiny dining area you tell them what kind you want, and then you get a plate of accompaniments (included in the price). You can get fresh lassi brought from a stall in the same gali. Here's what came on the plate:
There's cilantro chutney, aloo subjee, banana chutney, and pumpkin subjee. Meanwhile, out in front of the shop, the hot hot paranthas are made to order. They are stuffed and rolled out:
and then cooked with plenty of ghee:
and then brought piping-hot to your table. Wah! So good, you can't imagine until you go there.
On this past trip, we went to Chandni Chowk on a mission to find a piece of jewelry for me and a sari for Mummy. Then we went for dinner to Paranthawali Gali to a famous parantha stall where you can get one of the most incredible meals for only about .50 USD!
Here is the menu:
My former Hindi teacher, Raag, will be so proud of me, because I can read the whole thing. Just a few, starting from the top, include paranthas stuffed with aloo (potato), dal (lentil), methi (fenugreek), gobi (cauliflower), mooli (radish), matter (pea), etc. I love the mooli and gobi ones best, but the chilli ones were a pleasant new discovery on this trip. V likes the paneer and the chilli ones best.
When you sit down in the tiny dining area you tell them what kind you want, and then you get a plate of accompaniments (included in the price). You can get fresh lassi brought from a stall in the same gali. Here's what came on the plate:
There's cilantro chutney, aloo subjee, banana chutney, and pumpkin subjee. Meanwhile, out in front of the shop, the hot hot paranthas are made to order. They are stuffed and rolled out:
and then cooked with plenty of ghee:
and then brought piping-hot to your table. Wah! So good, you can't imagine until you go there.
08 January 2009
Happy Anniversary to Us!
Yesterday was the second anniversary of our Indian wedding! Time sure flies when you're having fun. Since Mummy is with us, the first thing we did in the morning was to touch her feet and take her blessings. The day felt extra-special because we had her with us!
To celebrate, we made pakoras and had champagne that night (Mummy even had a tiny glass!). Making pakoras is a cooperative effort for V and me. I prepare the veggies and batter, and he does the frying (I am skittish of hot oil, so he's the designated fryer in our family). It's so fun to hang out in the kitchen together making them that that's what I requested that we do for our anniversary.
Making pakoras is easy! I prefer the kind with individual veggies, rather than chopped veggies in blobs as you see at restaurants. My favorite kinds are mushroom and onion, but you can use your imagination and whatever veggies take your fancy.
Pakoras
2 cups besan
1 cup water
1/2 tsp coriander
1 tsp red chile or to taste
2 tsp salt or to taste
1/4 tsp khatai
1-2 tsp chaat masala
1 minced green chile
vegetables of your choice:
sliced onions
pieces of potato
pieces of green bell pepper
jalapeno chiles, halved lengthwise
small mushrooms, halved if desired
squares of bread
paneer
etc.
Whisk the dry ingredients together and add the chile. Add the water a little at a time and stir to make a batter that is of the right thickness. It should be thick enough to coat the veggies, and not too runny. Put vegetables into the batter and fry over medium heat until golden brown and crispy. Serve with ketchup or spicy ketchup (like Maggi brand).
To celebrate, we made pakoras and had champagne that night (Mummy even had a tiny glass!). Making pakoras is a cooperative effort for V and me. I prepare the veggies and batter, and he does the frying (I am skittish of hot oil, so he's the designated fryer in our family). It's so fun to hang out in the kitchen together making them that that's what I requested that we do for our anniversary.
Making pakoras is easy! I prefer the kind with individual veggies, rather than chopped veggies in blobs as you see at restaurants. My favorite kinds are mushroom and onion, but you can use your imagination and whatever veggies take your fancy.
Pakoras
2 cups besan
1 cup water
1/2 tsp coriander
1 tsp red chile or to taste
2 tsp salt or to taste
1/4 tsp khatai
1-2 tsp chaat masala
1 minced green chile
vegetables of your choice:
sliced onions
pieces of potato
pieces of green bell pepper
jalapeno chiles, halved lengthwise
small mushrooms, halved if desired
squares of bread
paneer
etc.
Whisk the dry ingredients together and add the chile. Add the water a little at a time and stir to make a batter that is of the right thickness. It should be thick enough to coat the veggies, and not too runny. Put vegetables into the batter and fry over medium heat until golden brown and crispy. Serve with ketchup or spicy ketchup (like Maggi brand).
09 December 2008
Bhai and Didis
My husband has a very close relationship with all three of his sisters. He was the youngest, the pampered only son (I like to say that he was the "little raja") and his sisters still compete to show him affection. As his wife, I've been warmly welcomed into the brother-sister relationship and the celebration of the brother-sister holiday Bhai Dooj (just after Diwali) is one demonstration of that.
Bhai Dooj is celebrated in North India by brothers and sisters. Brothers give their sisters a gift (usually cash) and sisters perform aarti to their brothers and give them a gift of food or sweets. This demonstrates the bond of love between the siblings both now and into the future.
This was the first Bhai Dooj they've spent together in years, and the first since we got married. This time I was included in the ceremony too. Each sister performed aarti, put tilak (red paste) and rice grains on our foreheads, and gave us a gift. It felt really special to experience the ceremony with my husband and all three didis. Afterward, my little niece performed the ceremony with her cousins (honorary brothers).
Here is my youngest SIL putting tilak on my head as part of the ceremony:
If you go out in public on that day, you'll see lots of men and boys walking around with tilak on their foreheads, a symbol of the devotion their sisters have for them!
Bhai Dooj is celebrated in North India by brothers and sisters. Brothers give their sisters a gift (usually cash) and sisters perform aarti to their brothers and give them a gift of food or sweets. This demonstrates the bond of love between the siblings both now and into the future.
This was the first Bhai Dooj they've spent together in years, and the first since we got married. This time I was included in the ceremony too. Each sister performed aarti, put tilak (red paste) and rice grains on our foreheads, and gave us a gift. It felt really special to experience the ceremony with my husband and all three didis. Afterward, my little niece performed the ceremony with her cousins (honorary brothers).
Here is my youngest SIL putting tilak on my head as part of the ceremony:
If you go out in public on that day, you'll see lots of men and boys walking around with tilak on their foreheads, a symbol of the devotion their sisters have for them!
Twice the Holidays!
We've been back from India for more than three weeks now but I haven't gotten a chance to write! Jet lag, plus getting back to work and getting caught up, plus having Mummy with us (yes! She came home with us!!) just didn't leave me much spare time.
I realized that we've been celebrating holidays basically non-stop since we went to India. First there was Diwali, then Bhai Dooj (more on that later), then Thanksgiving as soon as we got back, and then Advent started the following Sunday, and Christmas will be here before you know it! That's one of the really cool things about being in an intercultural marriage--we get to celebrate twice the holidays! It's been really fun to introduce Mummy to Advent and Christmas too...we got her her own chocolate Advent calendar (because yes, I haven't given up that childhood tradition myself yet) and we'll be getting a tree this week.
But--back to India. I had such a wonderful time on this trip: it was so much more relaxed than last time (with the wedding planning, etc) and we got to just spend time as a family, shop a lot, eat a lot, and see more of Delhi.
Celebrating Diwali in India was a wonderful experience. It's definitely a family kind of holiday, when each family stays at their own home to celebrate. We decorated Mummy's apartment with marigold and leaf garlands, rangolis, lights, and dozens of clay diyas filled with mustard oil. Here's my hubby with the garlands:
And here's me making a rangoli:
Here's Mummy and me lighting the diyas for Diwali pooja:
After the pooja, we went nearby to my husband's oldest didi's house for dinner and patake ("fireworks"). People are seriously crazy about fireworks at Diwali in India! Fireworks that would be illegal here, or only allowed to be lit by the town fire department where we live, get set off by families all over the neighborhoods. And ours was no exception. It was fun, but since I was wearing a silk lehenga I stayed well back and enjoyed watching my husband revert to childhood as he played with patake.
This firework is called "anar" which means pomegranate:
And here's my husband having the time of his life:
The city of Delhi fills up with smoke from all the fireworks being set off all over the place that night. It's not easy to go to sleep at Diwali time because of the noise, and for many nights afterward you'll hear people setting off their leftover patake! A few times we were riding a rickshaw at night and had to be really careful not to ride too close to where someone was setting them off in the street.
I'll try to write a little more in later posts about what else we did in India.
I realized that we've been celebrating holidays basically non-stop since we went to India. First there was Diwali, then Bhai Dooj (more on that later), then Thanksgiving as soon as we got back, and then Advent started the following Sunday, and Christmas will be here before you know it! That's one of the really cool things about being in an intercultural marriage--we get to celebrate twice the holidays! It's been really fun to introduce Mummy to Advent and Christmas too...we got her her own chocolate Advent calendar (because yes, I haven't given up that childhood tradition myself yet) and we'll be getting a tree this week.
But--back to India. I had such a wonderful time on this trip: it was so much more relaxed than last time (with the wedding planning, etc) and we got to just spend time as a family, shop a lot, eat a lot, and see more of Delhi.
Celebrating Diwali in India was a wonderful experience. It's definitely a family kind of holiday, when each family stays at their own home to celebrate. We decorated Mummy's apartment with marigold and leaf garlands, rangolis, lights, and dozens of clay diyas filled with mustard oil. Here's my hubby with the garlands:
And here's me making a rangoli:
Here's Mummy and me lighting the diyas for Diwali pooja:
After the pooja, we went nearby to my husband's oldest didi's house for dinner and patake ("fireworks"). People are seriously crazy about fireworks at Diwali in India! Fireworks that would be illegal here, or only allowed to be lit by the town fire department where we live, get set off by families all over the neighborhoods. And ours was no exception. It was fun, but since I was wearing a silk lehenga I stayed well back and enjoyed watching my husband revert to childhood as he played with patake.
This firework is called "anar" which means pomegranate:
And here's my husband having the time of his life:
The city of Delhi fills up with smoke from all the fireworks being set off all over the place that night. It's not easy to go to sleep at Diwali time because of the noise, and for many nights afterward you'll hear people setting off their leftover patake! A few times we were riding a rickshaw at night and had to be really careful not to ride too close to where someone was setting them off in the street.
I'll try to write a little more in later posts about what else we did in India.
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