day by day india: as goan as it gets

Goa has provided a series of firsts for me. My first time swimming in the Arabian Sea, my first Ayurveda massage, my first taste of feni and my first long distance trip on a motorbike (and with it my first near-encounter with a monkey).

One thing I haven't had the chance to do is take a native yoga class. I downloaded a podcast to guide me in my morning rituals and it has been pure heaven to run through a downward facing dog sun salutation in the early mornings of a Goan day.  When one adds in the gloriousness of swimming in the Arabian Sea it has added a meditative layer that has inspired my writing and brought clarity to my mind and spirit.  I was told by more than one person before my trip that visiting India would be mind-altering, and it has been.

Four of the five days were spent in Benaulim at the beach near Johncy's food shack. We would stake out a patio table facing the ocean and set up camp, earning our keep eating while some of us read and all of us chatted, each of us taking turns swimming. The beach was peppered by strays living a dog's life of scraps, sand and sun. More than once I thought about how easy it would be to just go off the grid, and live a bohemian life.

On Monday afternoon, Ramani mentioned that she planned to get a massage. I had heard about these Ayurveda treatments from both Lisa and Claudia and knew that I couldn't pass up the opportunity to experience one. Vikki, the male masseur uses a sea salt scrub on my face and a series of aromatherapy oils in the treatment and massage. A great bargain at $20 for a 75 minute massage.

Throughout our stay at Zen Gardens we are serenaded at daybreak by dogs who think they are part rooster, and visited daily by the resident cats. One kitten in particular, a white short-hair who wears a black collar and bell, searches me out each evening for a tummy rub.

On Tuesday afternoon, Divyanka and George who are on a post-wedding holiday staying at Taj Exotica meet us for lunch at Johncy's. After a late swim, Ramani suggests that I try a local liquor called feni.  A spirit made from either coconut or cashew, it is local to the state of Goa and cannot be found outside the area.  Feni has a potent flavor and reminded me most of the firewater that George, Claudia and I tasted on our trip to Yelapa. I tried the cashew and it had a medicinal herbal aftertaste which was equalized by the addition of fresh lime soda. I tried the coconut varietal (Ramani had ordered that for herself) which was mixed with orange soda.  A few of us linger back on the beach to swim, as I sit in the shallow water by the shore running my fingers in the sand, it occurs to me that it feels like wet suede. A kite flies overhead.

Dinners on the beach; one meal shared with nearby friends at Martin's a local Goan eatery with live music where Divyanka sings an open mic of Black Velvet. One night I am sous chef to master chef Paul who prepares a beef tomato stew over spaghetti that is actually quite good.

Our last full day we wake early and the four of us: Advaitha, Karron, Paul and I double up on motorbikes (I mistakenly think that renting bikes means bicycles) for a road trip. We take to the local roads stopping every so often to ensure we are going in the right direction and after a pit stop at Cabo de Rama, a historical  site we find ourselves in Palolem. Heaven on earth, and I am instantly transported to the lido near Taormina in Sicily.  We spend the day swimming and
sunning and then head our way back at sunset.

Thursday morning comes much too soon.

day by day india: this is goa

Indigo Air is a campier version of Jet Blue Its pleasant staff energetic and fun. The in-flight meal packages are equally entertaining, sold in reusable containers and tins with inspirational advertorials about how to obtain inner peace whilst in the air and what foods to eat if you are in need of a little confidence. Before I can even settle in for a nap, the pilot announces that we are preparing for arrival in Goa. In just under an hour we're in a sunnier space with the sea air wafting its way around the tarmac.

We gather our baggage from the roulette baggage carousel and then hire a taxi.  

Soon our party of five  is bound for Benaulim in South Goa, stopping once to gather provisions from a local market.

Ramani's close friends Sabrina and Param have graciously offered the use of their summer home for our time in Goa.  We arrive at Zen Gardens, where a lovely row of mint green townhouses form a courtyard around a pool and patio.  We take a moment to settle in, unpack and then change into swimsuits, pile into the car toward the beach. Late afternoon, the sun is making its way toward setting itself on the horizon as we climb the dunes and make our way past the Domnick seaside shack and toward the sea.

The sea does not match that which I've imagined. It is not crystalline blue like the wallpaper I've downloaded from the web but a sea green like the Atlantic in Far Rockaway, foamy waves breaking the shoreline. The only difference is water temperature, here the Arabian is warm and inviting in mid-May refreshing to the touch.

Swimming under a twilight sky is as peaceful and magical as you can imagine.

day by day india: saturday morning

In so many ways the early morning hours in Bangalore remind me of Sicily.  The dogs barking, the birds chirping, frogs (or insects) purring. The heat of the sun behind the clouds, burning off the early morning fog. Even the sweeping sound of brooms whisking the street of dust and frangipani petals.

And like Sicily, I wish I could package the wind and how it first feels on your skin. Its been a gift to have a balcony during my stay at Brunton Heights and the only way it could have been better is if there had been a screen to protect the inner room from the mini mosquitoes and flies that so love my skin and blood.

I've been in India just shy of a week, and my sleeping patterns are slightly off. thought perhaps a part of it is the excitement of being somewhere new, there will be plenty of time to catch up on sleep when I return home next week.  Still falling asleep so early on Friday night makes for a very early Saturday, my body and mind refused to sleep past 4.30am. I've been putzing, reading (The Yard by Alex Grecian), perusing the news (Deccan Herald) and planning my day.  I will be exploring Garuda Mall, immersing myself in some shopping and spa, and if its possible I will catch a tribal jazz event at CounterCulture, a live music venue in the northeast part of Bangalore. It will be a nice close to Bangalore, before our trip to Goa tomorrow.

*~*~*~

I spent the day shopping at FabIndia and then treated myself to a fish pedicure at the Kenko Spa at the Garuda Mall. After reading about it on Trip Advisor I was particularly intrigued. as the "doctor fish," a toothless fish which resemble guppies feed on dead skin cells and more or less suck it off whatever body part you submerge in their pool.  I arrived and was led by the technician into a bathing room where they first rinse your feet with antiseptic and a natural soap cleanse. They then escort you to the pools and instruct you to immerse your feet into the pool. The fish swarm your feet and within seconds you feel a tickle--I would imagine it might be excruciating to anyone who is crazy ticklish but for me I laughed out loud for a moment and then was immediately mesmerized by the "feeding" frenzy. Ten minutes later the soles of my feet were fantastically smooth. I later learned that the recommended time is 30 minutes to get a proper cleaning so I feel a bit cheated and will definitely have to do it again some time.

*~*~*~

Evening time finds me at Mehkri Circle waiting for Venus and Advaitha to return from visiting family. We are scheduled to attend the May Queen Ball, a local pageant and fashion show at the Bangalore Club. The sky has erupted in rain, it  sounds lovely against the city streets, the wet breeze sweeps in dampened by dirt and asphalt and co-mingled with the heat of the day creates a fragrance only a summer rain can conjure.

Next: Sunday Sojourn to Goa

day by day india: the cipro effect

The stomach cramps started on Tuesday afternoon on our long drive from Mysore. At first I mistake the discomfort in my lower back to be a kink of sorts from scrunching my body up onto the carseat from the nap on the ride back to Bangalore but a trip to the lavatory upon our return to the hotel confirms my suspicion.  I consciously steer away from alcohol and spicy foods the rest of the evening, sticking to water, lime soda and rice dishes.

As the festivities of the Mehndi are underway I feel like I am outside myself looking in. My body is lethargic and any thought of twisting in any sort of direction causes a ghost spasm. Sitting on the periphery watching the dancing rather than joining in offers a new perspective of self. I take photos and enjoy the spectacle of the performances getting to know Priya and about her family life (married with two sons) in the North.  Tanvi from across the room, sees me yawning and suggests we leave early to catch up on some sleep.

Eleven hours later at brunch I play it safe with a simple dosa and more lime soda. And even as I pack for church, I add a bottle of water and pepto-bismol pills to my bag, just in case.

At Koshy's my hunger is noticeably absent as I sip a Coca-Cola to calm the bubbles in my stomach. I thank my lucky stars that I brought Johnson & Johnson baby wipes, a bidet is not going to cut it tonight.  I pace myself throughout the wedding reception, dancing a little, eating carefully and drinking lots of fluids. My body feels like an unsettled bottle of soda.  By 11, I feel slightly feverish and find a cool spot to sit and drink more water.  The night comes to a close just in time and I am fast asleep by 1am.

Early Thursday morning I run for the loo as an army battles inside my bowels. It is not pleasant and as with all bodily expulsions, physically exhausting. I remember the Cipro and find in rereading the side effects I am on the fence on whether or not I should take it.  It doesn't help that the directions on the bottle are vague: "2x/daily"--does that mean 2x daily until symptoms are gone or 2x daily until all antibiotics are gone. I email my doctor for clarification.  I wish I had remembered to pack a milder form of medication like Immodium-AD (as Andreas had advised). Of course like a fool, I go online to check out the medication and find a cache of symptons and side effects gone awry. I am most concerned about the "oversensitivity to sunlight" -- we leave for Goa, a beach resort on Sunday morning and I've been looking forward to some time in the sun and the sea. Looks like I have to up the SPF level (normally I don't burn but am now spooked).

2:30am and I'm still at it, I pop the first Cipro pill and drink a whole bottle of water with it, praying for the best.  I take the next pill at 4pm, after the Kerala ceremony, and find myself in and out of sleep, fighting a devil inside. It's a quiet thorn in my side kind of pain, the night sweats bring on the most horrible of dreams, nightmares of an alter reality where one can touch taste feel the demons in technicolor. I sleep through the evening and try to eat a spot of Briyani egg rice from room service but it proves to be too spicy. I fall back asleep and then wake again at 3am on Friday, my mind completely aware and alert. I start writing then and can't seem to stop, going through multiple posts, online searches, Facebook posts, hydrating with bottles and bottles of water. My next pill is at 4:30am, and then I try to sleep for another few hours--up at 8:30am for breakfast and more writing.

Lunch at the China Bowl hits the spot, I have a double serving of chicken wonton soup, a yummy burnt garlic fried rice, and even some chicken and broccoli. I skip the alcohol and anything too creamy, better to play it safe and rid my body of toxins and infection I honestly don't know how I got sick, I was super careful not to drink non-bottled water or anything with ice, shying away from the watermelon in the fruit bowl for obvious reasons. I can only guess that one too many spices did me in.

I feel 80% better, the Cipro I took yesterday afternoon knocked me out, any hopes of evening socializing vanished the minute my head hit the pillow.  I haven't had a movement since early Friday morning and then it was solid though an army green, reminding me of animal dung. My stomach is not gurgling or bubbling, I suppose eating the digestive cookies has helped some.

The doctor prescribed a minimum of three days on Cipro to fight the infection, today Saturday would be my last day.  I'm still hesitant to take the last two pills, will revisit post-morning meal.

day by day india: kerala ceremony

Timing is everything and today I was seriously off.

I was told the cab pick-up time for this morning's event was 9am and so when the call came at 8am nor Tavani or I were ready to go. And because we were running late, I had missed an opportunity to find someone who knew (as the younger women did not) how to wrap the two-piece saree Ramani & Advaitha had so lovingly chosen for me to wear. Slight disappointment, and inadvertent insult that I hope I can explain.

The Palace Grounds have been transformed into a temple hall where the Kerala ceremony is performed. There is a raised platform at the front of the hall where Ramani is preparing the nilavilakku (a brass lamp) with oil and the wicks to be lit and another family member is arranging the thali plate with its offerings. A procession of women carry thalams, plates filled with a small lamp and other symbolic articles and lead the bride and groom to the stage.  Dinky and George once seated run through a series of rituals and blessings, offerings from family to family, and once completed circle the altar 5-6 times with George leading and Dinky following.  During the ceremony guests watch from the banquet pews below.

Once the ceremony is complete there is a brief pause where guests mill around and then the happy couple reassemble onstage and we make our way to greet them sprinkling them with rose petals and feeding them a spoonful of banana milk.

Next: The Banana Leaf Lunch

Lunch after the ceremony is served on a banana leaf. Nrithya and Prutha guide us through the process which starts with wetting down the leaf with water in preparation for an assortment of chutneys, spoonfuls of chicken and beef curries and variations of rice and curd dishes to be spooned onto the leaf. An assembly line of servers appear with ice bucket sized serving dishes and make their rounds to serve everyone. It was quite a dining experience and I was certainly glad to have local foodies to guide me through it. 

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day by day india: wedding reception

The taxi enters the fairground where the wedding is being celebrated. A billboard announces that we have arrived at the right reception "Divyanka weds George" written in gold on cream colored fabric.  The pathway leads to a series of outdoor patios decorated with tables and chairs wrapped in white cloth with ribbon and sashes for the guests and a dais of gold and red cushioned chairs for the couple.  A garden of eden with lights of blue and green trim the trees, flowers and bushes. In the far left hand corner a DJ booth is set up with a dance floor.  To the right of that is a buffet of snacks and appetizers.  Behind that the happy corner where a wet bar is available for guests (a rarity for Hindu weddings). Next to that lies diverging passageways, where one leads to the WC, the other winds down a dazzling lit path to a hidden dining area.

Although the entryway is wide enough for an elephant to cross, there won't be any sort of grand entrance on any animals as this is a Northern tradition reserved for families from Delhi, Bombay and Mumbai. It's a picture perfect evening with a clear sky and light breeze, you almost can't tell if you're outside.

The emcee introduces the bride and groom (and their paparazzi) as they enter the event space followed by the wedding party. There are photos taken on the dais, and the evening commences with a spray of confetti, a series of toasts from the best man, maid of honor and sister of the bride, and then the groom followed by the cutting of the cake. All of which is broadcast on a movie screen to the left of the food stations, so anyone seated anywhere within the grounds can see what's going on. Next is the wedding march through the tunnel of love which ends with the bride and groom on the dance floor where they share their first kiss as husband and wife, and first dance to Rod Stewart's "Have I Told You Lately."

The music set spans across the decades from the 60s 70s 80s 90s and today, there is a conga line and international favorites like the Macarena, the hokey pokey and the chicken dance mixed in with slow dancing and freestyle selections. I am out on the floor slightly reserved compared to other social events this year and enjoy the observation privileges of being here. In the midst of all the celebration dinner is served, cocktails and wine consumed, a meet greet and photo session is had at the dais with the bride and groom and the dancing continues well past midnight. "This is Bangalore, show me love," cries the emcee as he wrangles and cajoles folks to the dance floor.

The evening winds down, and the last remaining guests are invited to a moonlight supper with the bride and groom in the main dining area. Ramani will not take no for an answer and so with Suphil, one of the Addu's family friends we join the last meal of the evening/first meal of the day with Dinky and George.

day by day india: get me to the church on time

3 days later, 11 hours of sleep complete I finally I feel refreshed almost back to me.  Addu's friends and family must think me quite lame, every evening thus far I've played Cinderella leaving by midnight. I don't know if it was a remnant of jet lag or my body adjusting to the climate, but my energy level has been extremely low since arrival in India.

This afternoon is the Catholic service, with the wedding blessing to take place at St. Marks Church.  Earlier someone had mentioned that it would be a short 10 minutes but if it's to be traditional, it will be at least 45 minutes to an hour.  The nuptials are a fusion of Christian (groom) and Hindu (bride) traditions. Afterwards, there will be a reception at the Gayathri Vihar on the Palace Grounds.

~*~*~*

Pre-wedding brunch with Prutha, Tanvi, Venus, Vithra, Sango and Malavika at Konark. We first attempted to walk from the hotel but no one could decide which route was correct; and then we split up into 3 rickshaws, each of us taking  a different circuitous path there. We compared fares in amazement 28rps/34rps/42rps). Breakfast dosa style: crepe pancakes pan-fried with various fillings and chutneys to dip. I have the Masala with potato, and side of lime soda.  Malavika orders a cassata, an ice cream dish similar to spumoni with a layer of vanilla, mango and pistachio ice cream. We settle our bill (approx. $4 pp) and fare una passegiata to Bangalore Central for last minute errand and shopping.

Back at the hotel we shower and change, Tanvi who is in the bridal party goes off to get saree-wrapped and once we are ready we pile into the car to get to the church.  An interesting conundrum is that most drivers, even when an inquiry is made don't seem to know where they are going at any given moment. You must take them at their word and head bobble that yes they do.

The 200 year old cathedral St. Marks is part of the Church of India, founded in 1808. The interior is all white with stained glass windows at the top of each bay window. Most of the windows are open to bring in in the natural light and bring in a light crosswind, to the pews draped with white bouquets and gold and green sashes. The exterior architecture reminds me of a cathedral I visited while in Granada, Nicaragua where the walls were painted a light canary yellow to  reflect the sun and heat.

The ceremony mirrors that of a Catholic Italian service. There is an opening procession which consists of the groom and his mother, a ring boy and flower girl followed by the bridal party and sister to the bride, and ends with the mother escorting the bride to be to the altar.  There are hymns sung; prayers, readings and a sermon from the minister; the blessing of the rings and exchange of vows. Two things of note: a friend of the family Siddharth Abraham presented a beautiful love hymn to the couple (his carriage was a rich and robust baritone) and there was also the addition of a thali blessing, where the groom’s family presents the bride with a long, thick gold chain connected to a string of beads and amulets that signifies the woman’s married status as well as the traditions of the family into which she is marrying. The service closes with a benediction and hymn.

Outside there are smiles and laughter, hugs and handshakes to congratulate, and as there is a bit of time before the reception some of the guests meander over to Koshy's, the quintessential Bangalore eatery for a snack.

day to day india: Mehndi magic

Back at the hotel we have just enough time for a quick nap before showering and changing for the evening festivities at Mehkri Circle, where  Addu's mother has coordinated a house party and Mehndi to celebrate Dinky & George's marriage. On my first visit to their home we spent the time at their apartment and today we explore the rooftop of the building where the party is underway beneath a purple, red & yellow tent.  There is an elevated stage at the front of the and seating area. In a separate room off to the side three henna artists painted the hands and arms of the female guests, intricate designs made freehand. (Note: Dinky's arms and feet were beautifully decorated this afternoon before everyone arrived.)

Up until now I haven't met a lot of the family and it is at the Mehndi that the multigenerational women come together.  Friends and relatives are seated on the folded futon to the right waiting their turn for a sitting. Here I meet Shakuntala (Bangalore) and her daughter Priya, who is from Bombay. Shakuntala is a longtime friend of Ramani. Tanvi joins, as well as Addu's cousins, 18 year old Pritika and 15 year old Priyanka. Both are stunning and sure to be heartbreakers in a few years (if thethaten't already).  Then there is Indu and Sabrina, other friends of Ramani.  We chitchat as the three artisans decorate the hands of those ahead of us. It is a contrast of colors, the artists in neutral muted colors, the guests in bright party clothes the bridge between forged by symbols on skin. The artists work the design as if in a trance, the brown ink piping curlicues and scallops, ribbons and feathers like a Happy Birthday message on a Carvel sheet cake. Your individual body temperature determines the outcome of the color once the design dries, and a debate breaks out on whether or not you should brush on a paste of lemon and sugar water to make the color last longer.  It takes 10-15 minutes plus an additional 10 for the ink to dry; there is an element of eucalyptus oil in the ink that cools the hand.
 
This is not the first time I've had a henna tattoo.  A few summers ago I bought a Living Social deal for Akiyo, a local artist and had a piece done as decoration for an upcoming event. She worked out of her home, a sunny and airy railroad in Queens. I went by myself and having experienced the real thing, I think I prefer the camaraderie of a Mehndi party with friends, it's much more fun.

Hands painted it's time to join the party, in the outer room on the terrace. Here they are getting ready for the performances where members of the bridal party dance for the bride and groom. First there is Addu and her mother, than the bridesmaids, the groomsmen, and a combination of the two. Then Advaitha comes out for a solo--I'm sure I knew that she could dance the traditional folk style but it's a nice surprise to see her in moving her hands and head in a fusion of classic and modern mudras. Next Divyanka who is a vocalist by trade serenades George with an a cappella version of "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You."

day to day india: mysore

The alarm vibrating from under the pillow stirs me from sleep way earlier than I want to wake up.  I'm still in a haze of jet lag but force myself to get up as I will be joining Amanda & Pat, friends of the groom from Boston, on a day trip to Mysore, an ancient city with a 600 year legacy of royal heritage.  I'm not certain how prepared I am for the 3 hour drive to and from Bangalore but adventures are not had by sleeping in.

We arrive in Mysore at 1/2 past nine, our first destination is Chamundi Hill where the Sri Chamundeswari Temple sits at its summit. The temple comes into view way before we reach the top, a quadrangle structure that most resembles a cross between a pyramid and a pagoda. It's buttery gold tower is covered with detailed carvings and contrasting white goddess statues, alternating between seated and standing position.

The temple is an amazement but nothing inanimate can compete with the color and playfulness of the people swarming around us.  The temple is active and many a family has made a pilgrimage to make an offering to be blessed; the queue itself is 5 lanes deep (think Radio City Music Hall at Christmas) of barefooted worshippers.  A procession makes its way through the sea of people, carrying a miniature float (made of flowers) of the temple as two men move it from the chariot into the temple.  There are numerous distractions including live chanting, a dog and owner playing catch, and our quartet of 3/4 Caucasian and 1/4 African-American clearly stands out among the crowds.  A rare combination for these parts, we are approached incessantly by peddlers, beggars and curious onlookers wanting to take photos.

On the way down the hill we stop at Nandi, a 5m high statue of the goddess Shiva's bull carved out of solid rock (c. 1659).

Next the Maharaja's Palace, the grandest of India's royal buildings once ruled by the Wodeyar maharajas.  After purchasing our tickets, hoodwinking (or so we thought) the security check about our cameras and checking in our shoes, we proceed to take a self-guided tour of the grounds and palace interior.  The concrete is surprisingly not hot and the tiled floors are smooth from all the wear and tear of walking feet on ceramic. At the entrance to the palace building we pass through a metal detector where a security guard threatens to confiscate my camera unless we tip him. Not surprising he directs all talk of bribery to the sole male in the group, and after we slip him some cash we are encouraged to pass through, camera and all.

The magnificent opulence of the palace interior (photos here: http://www.esamskriti.com/photo-detail/Mysore-Palace.aspx) is mesmerizing. I am most impressed with an interior room with intricately painted stained glass windows depicting peacocks and feathers. The adjacent hallways and rooms offer a kaleidoscope of color from palettes of red to shades of blues, accented in white and gold.  One courtyard in particular features a pair of bronze cast panthers at its entryway and an intricate spiral staircase on its exterior leading up to what might be considered royal box seats.

As we pass through an interior hallway, one of the patrol guards approaches and asks where I am from. Once I share New York, his eyes light up and he leans in to tell me about the secret chambers that lie behind the locked doors in front of us.  According to lore, the royal family would use the rooms to gut animals they had hunted and prepare to mount them. He conspiratorially adds that if we wanted he could arrange access for us, for a price, of course.  Touring the palace is a lot like practicing magic in Storybrooke, everything comes with a price. We passed.

After collecting our shoes, we make our way back to the closest of the four gates that guard the grounds to exit. It is amusing how many times we are approached (or nonchalantly included) about having our photo taken. The Americans are seemingly a better attraction than the palace structure itself.  At one point, Venus laughingly demands 30 rupees for the opportunity. No one concedes.

We conclude the outing with a buffet lunch at La Gardenia, Hotel Regaales on the outskirts of Mysore.

day by day india: fashion forward blessings

The traffic patterns in Bangalore mesmerize me. The amalgamation of vehicles is like the Palio, the running of the bulls, i motorini of Rome and the taxis of New York all rolled into one.  The people walking in between the cars and rickshaws, the dogs--so many strays--taking on human mannerisms as they too weave their way through the mayhem. I felt braver today and it was a little less stressful crossing the streets as I made my way down Primrose to Magrath to Brigade (the main shopping area) to Church street, taking photos along the route. There is so much color and life in every nook and cranny of every street. As I strolled down Church street one of the local drivers fell into step beside me and aggressively attempted to sell me a (1) hour tour for 30 rps ($.50)--even direct No's and No Thank You's didn't deter him. Later on in the morning I turned the street corner and there he was again smiling, as if karma had brought us together for that rickshaw tour. I crossed the street.

*~*~*~

Two days in the jet lag still lingers. I took an ambien before bed last night assuming I would get at least an 8 - 10 hour respite of zzz's but I woke up at 6am raring to go. I crashed after my morning walk and had the craziest dreams. I attribute that to the heat, which is very different than what I'm used to. Every time you are outside walking it's as if your body goes through a detoxification, you don't realize of course until you return to your residence soaked from the sweat.

*~*~*~

Addu picks Venus and I up at 3pm for a shopping expedition to FabIndia and then Commerical street.  We each pick up blouses, saree accessories, chuppas and I begin an ardent search for the dhotti harem pants. Molly my yoga instructor wears them to class and they look so comfortable, in prep for the trip I searched the selections on Etsy, where a pair ran anywhere from $6 - $50 depending on the style and color. At the local shop on Commercial street they sell for 175 rps, or the equivalent of $3 each. Looks like everyone may get a pair as a souvenir.

Next stop Muniswarmy Tailors at 75 Dispensary Road, just off Commercial street where we've hired a local tailor to peephole stitch our saree hems and make blouses--mustard for me; light blue for Venus.

*~*~*~
While we're out I'm assigned a roommate, Tanvi is a friend of the bride's. They met at college and she is from Delhi. I ask if she'll be attending the blessing ceremony but she opts out to rest from all her travels. I shower and dress before meeting Venus and Addu in the lobby.

We arrive at the Grand Magrath hotel, and are introduced to Addu and Dinky's family members, as well as those of the bridegroom. The ceremony takes place in large room of a reception hall, a slightly elevated stage stands front and center. Divyanka is wearing a red/pink and gold saree and sits in the center of the stage. The groom's family brings out a large silver tray, placing a variety of offerings upon it: an urn of sandalwood paste, censers filled with rosewater and coconut oil, bowls of fruit and sweet meat and garlands of jasmine. Next the married female members of both sides take turns administering each of the elements onto Dinky's person. The sandalwood paste on her face, censers douse her head and body, they each feed her fruit and/or the sweetmeat and then offer flowers for her hair and hands.

After the ceremony there is a buffet dinner of Mangalorean and Bangalorean cuisine and dancing until midnight.
*~*~*~