Sunday, November 28, 2010
So hungry!
What is it about Indian breakfasts? Now that I've returned to Ludhiana from Jaipur (Rajasthan), I've also returned to some of my old eating habits. Instead of the parantha (fried bread), a hard boiled egg, and curd (full fat, of course) for breakfast, I'm again eating oatmeal sprinkled with nuts and a little maple syrup. Sometimes I throw in a banana. I guess it should be obvious why I'm hungry a few hours after this breakfast and why the Indian nasta satiates me well into the afternoon. Is this how most Indians stay thin - less snacking and more full on, full fat meals? Do I sense an Indian Women Don't Get Fat in the making?
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Am I cheating?
Sitting here nibbling on some cave-aged Gruyere and sauscisson sec between sips of duty-free Rioja, I feel a little tug on my conscience - am I cheating on India? Am I doing my whole-hearted, hand on heart best to understand Indian culture by sitting in my apartment with my gourmet foods lovingly flown thousands of miles to me from New York by my sister (This after the cheese was flown from Switzerland and the wine from Spain; at least the sausage only traveled from St. Louis. How many trees must I plant to atone for such a carbon footprint?!). True, I was eating these delicacies on my bed, the way many Punjabis take lunch in the heat of the summer, their bedroom often being the only room in the house with an air conditioner. But somehow I don't think this qualifies in the UN-y sense of mutual understanding.
I posed my question to a friend who responded by assuring me that because I had become accustomed to eating these foods, I could not be expected to deprive myself for such a long period of time (Nine months with Indian paneer as the only cheese to speak of! Paneer, loved more for its texture and ability to absorb heavy Punjabi gravies than for its flavor, of which it has little.). I like this answer. And when you put it that way, well, as a card-carrying New Yorker who lived for ten years in a city saturated with psycho-therapists, CSWs, LCSWs, psycho-analysts, psychologists, psychiatrists and numerous other shingles adorning Park Avenue apartment buildings, really, I can say that it is not my fault - my cravings are simply a matter of habit, one might say they are my part of my nature; if not my nature, then at the very least, my nurture!
To me, comfort food - anything that reminds me of home or my life in New York - has become a necessary part of living in a foreign country. Amid the honking horns, the motorbikes that seem intent on running me over, the young boys calling out, "How are you?!" as I pass by, the lack of freedom in how I dress...my nerves need some soothing. And right now, when my friends and family are sleeping in the U.S. and everyone else seems to be busy, cheese is my way to unwind. True, I have only been in India for just over three months, so all of this might seem a bit dramatic. And, frankly, a little indulgent, given I'm in one of the poorest countries in the world and studying the topic of food security.
So after this cathartic writing exercise, I seem to be back where I started - confused, torn and feeling a little guilty. I suppose I will move past this for the time being, and I'll continue to snack, drink wine, and request items from the next sister (on that list: olives, blue cheese and more peanut butter, creamy and salted). But these issues inevitably nag on me. And I think that's ok. Because I think that's part of the point of what the Fulbright calls 'mutual understanding.'
I posed my question to a friend who responded by assuring me that because I had become accustomed to eating these foods, I could not be expected to deprive myself for such a long period of time (Nine months with Indian paneer as the only cheese to speak of! Paneer, loved more for its texture and ability to absorb heavy Punjabi gravies than for its flavor, of which it has little.). I like this answer. And when you put it that way, well, as a card-carrying New Yorker who lived for ten years in a city saturated with psycho-therapists, CSWs, LCSWs, psycho-analysts, psychologists, psychiatrists and numerous other shingles adorning Park Avenue apartment buildings, really, I can say that it is not my fault - my cravings are simply a matter of habit, one might say they are my part of my nature; if not my nature, then at the very least, my nurture!
To me, comfort food - anything that reminds me of home or my life in New York - has become a necessary part of living in a foreign country. Amid the honking horns, the motorbikes that seem intent on running me over, the young boys calling out, "How are you?!" as I pass by, the lack of freedom in how I dress...my nerves need some soothing. And right now, when my friends and family are sleeping in the U.S. and everyone else seems to be busy, cheese is my way to unwind. True, I have only been in India for just over three months, so all of this might seem a bit dramatic. And, frankly, a little indulgent, given I'm in one of the poorest countries in the world and studying the topic of food security.
So after this cathartic writing exercise, I seem to be back where I started - confused, torn and feeling a little guilty. I suppose I will move past this for the time being, and I'll continue to snack, drink wine, and request items from the next sister (on that list: olives, blue cheese and more peanut butter, creamy and salted). But these issues inevitably nag on me. And I think that's ok. Because I think that's part of the point of what the Fulbright calls 'mutual understanding.'
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Research in Jaipur
At this agriculture research station, they're trying to get farmers to use greenhouses to grow flowers for export. |
My interpreter on the left and his cousin on the right. |
Interpreter's cousin invited me for dinner |
Rajasthani dinner. On the left are baati; essentially wheat flour, ghee and salt formed into a ball and then baked. It's wonderfully doughy on the inside. |
I bought some sweets at this sweet shop and soon had a huge crowd of employees surrounding me handing me samples |
One of the women we surveyed |
My second interpreter |
A rarity in India |
Hailing a bus because there is no real bus stand; you just have to know where to go to catch the bus. |
The man running the canteen brought me flowers for my birthday! |
Birthday cake |
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Highlights from the Pushkar Camel Fair
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Sister's visit to India
My sister Michelle flew into India for a whirlwind trip that took her from the Delhi airport to Ludhiana to meet me. After a day and a half there, we headed to Agra to see the Taj Mahal and then to Jaipur where we shopped, ate, drank and shopped - a lot.
The pictures are out of order because they posted numerically and are not all from the same camera (and, let's be honest, I do not have enough ambition to correct this problem so they post chronologically).
My exalted fridge |
Stylish farmer |
My very own office |
that's some sweater |
Overnight journey to Agra |
We had to do it |
I must admit that driving this thing was not easy, even without passengers |
Can you see the load this ant is carrying? |
Enjoying snacks and the view |
I was bamboozled and sold cruddy, air-exposed chocolate |
Shopping! |
Um, did I really just buy these things?? |
Elephant camp outside Jaipur |
Life is tough, drinking red wine atop an elephant. Our guide consistently referred to the elephant as his "boss." |
Life gets even harder every day, esp when you stay in a renovated palace with a tub in front of the huge t.v. |
Makes the prospect of pork a bit less appealing. This could be why most Indians do not eat pork. |
The view from our amazing infinity pool. |
Getting slightly snockered |
Our host for the evening was a friend's friend's friend - a Jaipur jeweler. The guy taking our picture did not have such great aim. |
PAU's campus gudwara |
Dinner in Ludhiana |
PAU's museum about rural life in Punjab |
Snack wallah |
Sleepy traveler arriving in Agra |
Our lovely view from the rooftop of our hotel |
Gate to Taj Mahal |
She had to do it too |
Agra Fort |
Fancy dinner at the Oberoi |
Fancy coffee at the Oberoi |
City Palace, Jaipur |
Hawa Mahal |
Hawa Mahal |
Elephant Polo |
Lovely dinner, post-elephant ride |
Samode village, 45 km outside Jaipur |
Tie-dying - each piece of tie-dyed cloth had hundreds of small knots it it to create the traditional effect |
Making bangles |
Finished bangles |
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