Foreigner to Family

I remember the first time I went to the Glare beauty parlor. It was late in September, the weather was finally becoming bearable and on my way home for lunch I saw a lady in a yellow salwar suit come out, and I decided on my way back to the office I would go in there. When I went in for my first pedicure ever, I met Nirmali, who called her boss (Mala) and excitedly exclaimed in the local language that the foreigner that they had seen pass earlier that day had come to the parlor.

It has been two months since that day, and somewhere in that time I have crossed the line from foreigner to family. I am now affectionately called Melissaba. (similar meaning to auntie), I have a place at the dinner table, and they are always happy scoot over in the family bed and grab an extra pillow if I need to stay the night.  They told me I have a soft heart and that is why it was so easy for me to mesh into their family.

Some of my favorite memories that I will always cherish include but are not limited to:”

-       Mala’s son’s 7^th birthday. I went early to help with the cooking and decorating.  I really felt like a part of the family, I was so fun. It was on that night that they declared me a part of their family.

-       Nirmali invited me to her aunt’s wedding. Mala went with me to pick out a Mekala sador (traditional dress) and make sure I got a fair price. On the day of the wedding I went to the parlor and the helped me pin the dress and also did my makeup. They let me do my own hair and that’s a huge compliment, it means they like my style. I went to the wedding and Nirmali proudly introduced me to all her family.

-       Playing cricket baseball or badmitten with Mala’s kid’s in the front yard.

-       Mala trying to teaching me how to cook and laughing so hard at my oddly shaped roti.

-       Just sitting in the parlor with the two of them enjoying each other’s company, whether we are talking or just smiling at each other.

Nirmali and I at the wedding

The Beautiful Bride

Mala, her sweet children and I under the mosquito net ready for bed

Mala's son's birthday party

These are going to be the hardest goodbyes I have to say.

Wedding Crashers

One night my three roommates and I were headed home from one of our friend’s houses when we passed a biya or wedding tent. The sparkly pink tent had music streaming from it and we were naturally curious. None of us had been to a wedding party yet so after some deliberation in the middle of the street we decided to “just walk by and see what was going on”. So we did. The father of the bride happened to be standing outside the tent and insisted that we come in. So we did.

It was beautiful. The decorations indicated that the family was pretty wealthy.  We passed all the guested wearing their finest clothes and we were in jeans and kurtas, (embarrassingly underdressed) but all eyes were on us. The party was a reception for the bride and her family; the husband would not arrive until 11p.m. We were ushered up to the bride’s throne area where they proceeded to take about 1,000 pictures of us and video.  The bride was donned in the traditional mekala sador (its like a sari, but has two pieces of fabric instead of one) and lots of jewelry and flowers. She was the most stunning bride I had ever seen.

The maid of honor then insisted on taking us to get some food, so of coarse we let followed her to the best buffet ever. We enjoyed a wide variety of rice, Dahl, chicken dishes, and vegetable dishes. The bride’s maids joined us and we sat in a circle to enjoy the food and each other’s company.

The maid of honor was taking down our contact information, but was having a terrible time spelling our names so my roommate that was closest leaned over to help her. Unfortunately the leg of her chair was in a hole…. so in slow, slow, slow motion she began to tip backwards until the next thing we all know she is flat on her back covered in rice (fortunately she was almost finished and had eaten all the really messy food) and her dupata over her face. A big Indian man scooped her up from under her armpits, set her upright and immediately a crowd of about 50 wedding guest gathers around to ask her if she’s ok and help her pick the rice out of her hair.  Where are her roommates? All three of them are sitting in their chairs crying because they are laughing so hard.

Puts wedding crashing on a whole new level =]