Waking up in Chinchwad, outside of Pune is like a dream. No, it is not a paradise, but I do feel a deep connection to this place and these people, even the people I do not know. My kind cousin and his family gave us their only bed. While not as soft as the ship beds, and without the gentle rise and fall of the waves, I got a spectacular night’s sleep.
I did have to remember how to do a bucket bath, and how to squat… but these things are like riding a bicycle. It a appears that one never really forgets. I find that I am able to track more of the language than I expected. Certainly I am unable to converse, but with enough time I think I could pick it up quickly.
The first night with my cousin he took us to a type of restaurant known as a thali restaurant. Essentially it is a buffet in reverse. Upon sitting, a small army of servers approaches and fills a series of bowls and covers the remaining empty places on the plate with delightful foods, also providing several drink options. They then circulate, refilling anything I might be remotely interested in having more of. I summed up my experience for the owner this way: “I felt like a prince.”
The second night’s dinner was pov baji. Now, I had purchased a can of pov baji at home one time, but it just did not come close to the delightful flavors that my cousin’s wife creates when she cooks.
With this
our only full day in this city, we visited family, and my cousin indulged me while I tried and failed to find a geocache. At the home of my grandparents, now occupied my aunt, we were met at the door, and greeted with “Welcome to your house.” My aunt, known to my kids as “India Aji,” performed a ceremonial foot washing for travelers returning from afar, and then we rinsed the dust from our mouths before entering the flat.
We had occasion to speak to two of the three cousins that I did not see. Each time the message was the same. “Welcome home. You must come visit us at our house. You must come home more often.” And I truly felt like I was at a long lost home. Even though Dominoes Pizza now delivers throughout the town, and wireless internet and mobile phones and automobiles are ever more abundant, the thing that has not changed is the love of family, the sorrow of separation and the yearning for togetherness.
I did have to remember how to do a bucket bath, and how to squat… but these things are like riding a bicycle. It a appears that one never really forgets. I find that I am able to track more of the language than I expected. Certainly I am unable to converse, but with enough time I think I could pick it up quickly.
The first night with my cousin he took us to a type of restaurant known as a thali restaurant. Essentially it is a buffet in reverse. Upon sitting, a small army of servers approaches and fills a series of bowls and covers the remaining empty places on the plate with delightful foods, also providing several drink options. They then circulate, refilling anything I might be remotely interested in having more of. I summed up my experience for the owner this way: “I felt like a prince.”
The second night’s dinner was pov baji. Now, I had purchased a can of pov baji at home one time, but it just did not come close to the delightful flavors that my cousin’s wife creates when she cooks.
With this
our only full day in this city, we visited family, and my cousin indulged me while I tried and failed to find a geocache. At the home of my grandparents, now occupied my aunt, we were met at the door, and greeted with “Welcome to your house.” My aunt, known to my kids as “India Aji,” performed a ceremonial foot washing for travelers returning from afar, and then we rinsed the dust from our mouths before entering the flat.We had occasion to speak to two of the three cousins that I did not see. Each time the message was the same. “Welcome home. You must come visit us at our house. You must come home more often.” And I truly felt like I was at a long lost home. Even though Dominoes Pizza now delivers throughout the town, and wireless internet and mobile phones and automobiles are ever more abundant, the thing that has not changed is the love of family, the sorrow of separation and the yearning for togetherness.
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