Holi Warriors

March 11th was a holiday for those of us in Delhi, to celebrate the Hindu festival of colors, Holi.  Holi goes on for a day or two - even the weekend before, Devindar and I got water-balooned in old Delhi, and you'd see people here and there smeared with vibrant colors.  But, the big to-do was the morning of the 11th.  This year, there were more expats and friends around, so we had a little mixer at Essel, with all of the staff and us participating.  Smearing your friends and family with colors is a form of well-wishing for the upcoming year; supposedly the colors were once ayurvedic powders, meant to foster good health.  Everyone at Essel was well and truly in the mood.  Devindar got me good with the colors, or gulal, the night before when he dropped me off, and then in the morning, everyone was up and at 'em fairly early, smearing each other with the colored powder.  We took the party outside and it quickly became a water fight, complete with squirt guns, buckets, and a hose.  It was a blast!  So much fun.  The whole neighborhood was out and about and having a good time.  It made me realize that there are just some underlying truisms to human celebrations worldwide.  The Holi party we had resonated strongly with the egg dyeing, water fights and egg tosses held on Montgomery and Mackh lawns over the past 30 or more years.  It's spring, and Muslims, Christians, and Hindus alike are celebrating the themes of renewal, growth and the end of winter.  We topped our morning off with homemade samosas from Abdul, very special lassis, and a good long nap.  I had no complaints...ah, spring!

Princess for a Day, Delhi-Style

So, today was the type of day that little girls dream about. I'm not sure, save preparing for a wedding, that two women of any age could have more fun. Really, my whole weekend has been this way. Please forgive me if I sound tremendously spoiled...

On Saturday, Heather still had guests in town, so we each did our own thing for most of the day. This was actually the first time that I ventured into Delhi without someone else with me. The day started on the right foot because I was able to negotiate using my favorite driver, Divendar; he usually drives James, and James was in Darjeeling. We set off at the civilized hour of 11am to do some shopping. I was on the hunt for some 'traditional' clothes to wear to a wedding that I may be going to in Kathmandu in two weeks. I started off at Santushti, a very posh shopping village in the Diplomatic Enclave in Delhi. I didn't find much in the way of wedding options - I'm chubbier than I should be now anyway, and to boot, most Indian outfits have very small sleeves and tight necklines. Of course, it's not like me to head home empty handed, and I did find several kurtas that I liked a lot. The bad side of shopping at Santushti is that all of the prices are fixed, and fixed at wealthy foreigner rates. The upside is that they have some beautiful things.

After poking around in the shops for an hour or two, I headed for The Garden Restaurant at Lodhi Gardens. I had a great meal outside in the garden, on my own, private, canopied divan. The restaurant is pricey for Delhi standards, but I'm sure we'll be back. It's a lovely setting, with red lanterns hanging from huge trees, and lovely shaded tables. They have a very nice continental menu, also, which is a refreshing change every once in a while. On Lonely Planet's recommendation, I had the Lamb Moroccan, which was excellent, along with a salad and a nice glass of red wine. I was planning on stopping there, but then the waitress brought the dessert tray. Now, I need to take a moment here to explain that I have not been suffering food-wise. I am really liking Indian food in its tremendous variety, and save one bout of food poisoning, the local diet and I have been getting along quite well. That said, I had a moment on Saturday that was reminiscent of Day 25+ on Survivor, when they show the semi-starved contestants mugs of beer, a pizza, or a hamburger and give them the chance to earn the food as a reward.... There, on the dessert tray in all of their chocolaty goodness, were brownies. "Do you have cold milk?" I asked. The waitress gave me a look that indicated that I was clearly crazy, but said that, yes, they did have cold milk. And so, I couldn't resist. Just when I don't think I'm homesick, I am undone. Cold milk and warm brownies a la mode....it tasted like home to me and it was worth every calorie. I rounded out my afternoon by meeting up with Heather in Khan Market and helping her pick out some lovely duds by a local Indian designer. We then headed home. Divendar took such good care of us - I love that man. We were practicing Hindi in the car, using the flash cards that I had made, and he got SO excited. Hindi, when delivered by a native speaker, sounds a lot like a verbal waterfall. It's very lyrical and beautiful, but somewhat overwhelming. Needless to say, all three of us were giggling most of the way home. Divendar was so tickled, he even called one of his friends so that she could listen to us stumble through what little Hindi we know over the phone. We sailed into Essel and were treated to a 'light' Indian dinner cooked by our very own Abdul. Sometimes simple is best... paneer, aloo gobhi (potatoes and cauliflower), chapati, and salad --- the keys to Heather and Megan's hearts.

Sunday morning, we rallied around 10:30 with brunch and a visit to the main Sikh temple in Delhi as our primary objectives. Since we were fairly early for brunch, we decided to stop off in a sari shop that one of Heather's friends recommended to us. From this point on, my day was a lot like the shopping montage in Pretty Woman - for those of you who know me well, you'll know this was pure bliss. Heather and I spent a solid two hours sipping chai and being swathed in some of the most beautiful silk fabric you have ever seen. Teal and peacock, sterling silver, crimson and petal pink - there was something for everyone. I think the sari guys (yes, it's all men in the shops) thought we were a bit nuts because we eschewed the spangled chiffon and georgette numbers that are so popular in northern India, and insisted on seeing the woven silk saris that are more typical of southern India. Heather selected a sari that is silvery grey with gold embroidery, like sunshine peeking around storm clouds. It sets off her blond hair perfectly. Heather claims she's never going to wear her sari at home, but she supposes it's worth it for the use we'll get out of it here. I think she's nuts. Fabric that beautiful on a lovely woman is never going to go out of style - no matter what. For myself, I picked out two saris and a salwar kameez. I know, I know...too decadent...but one was too gorgeous be passed up, one was too good a deal to turn down, and the salwar kameez is just more practical to wear, not to mention being done in my two most favorite colors. So, that's my justification and I'm sticking to it.

The first sari I bought is an iridescent, petal pink with gold embroidery. It is a lightweight, gauzy silk that will be perfect for warm weather. Each sari comes as a length of embroidered fabric, with the end-most piece intended to be made into a blouse that is worn underneath the remainder of the fabric. We discovered in trying on multitudes of options, that a sari with some patterning throughout is more interesting. The ends of the saris, which drape over your shoulder, are the most intricately embroidered. The second sari is a deep turquoise blue with a magenta border and gold embroidery. There are golden floral swirls embroidered on the blue field and a thick gold border that runs through the magenta. It is gorgeous. I'm sure that I don't carry it off as well as an Indian would, or someone more svelte, but it is so beautiful that I just decided to treat myself. Everyone deserves to feel like a princess, now and again, and you can be sure that any time I drape that sari, I am going to feel like a million bucks.

After the big sari decisions were made, we headed upstairs to see the salwar kameez. Heather picked out a princess-seamed ecru and gold ensemble. Mine is teal, antique gold, and crimson. The tailor came and measured us to fit the salwar kameez pieces, and to sew the blouse and petticoat which go under the saris. My pink sari will have a sweetheart neckline on the blouse; the turquoise and magenta number will have a magenta blouse with a simple rounded neck. After a hefty deposit, exchange of business cards and much goodwill, we were on our way - blissed out on shopping and ready for brunch.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before, but Heather and I are on a best-of-Delhi Sunday brunch tour. We've tried the Shangri-La (which was beautiful but is also where we got sick), the Oberoi (which was so good, Heather went two weekends in a row), and now we decided to try the Imperial. All of the brunches that we've tried have been fantastic, and easily rival the best brunches I've had in the US. The Shangri-La was notable for its free-pour Veuve Clicquot; the Oberoi for its free-pour Moet and frangipan tart; but the Imperial was the best yet. We rolled up a gravel drive and were greeted by a turbaned door man. Gorgeous flower arrangements punctuated each arch and doorway, and the moment we entered the lobby, we were awash in the lilting scent of jasmine. At the restaurant, 1911, we were ushered to our table on the patio by a fleet of perfectly solicitous staff. Today was a beautiful day in Delhi - 70 degrees with sunshine and a light breeze; it really could not have been more perfect. Crab salad, seared ahi, caprese salad, prosciutto, steamed scallops, and salmon-wrapped artichokes started us off. They were followed by paneer tikka, tandoori prawns, tandoori naan, and tandoori chicken, in all it's glory. Tandoori naan is bread cooked on the inside walls of a clay oven; we watched the chef deftly hook the bread before it fell into the coals and tuck it into a white-linen-lined basket for our immediate, buttery enjoyment. At just this point in our gourmet sojourn, Heather discovered the seared-to-order foie gras, subsequent to which, I discovered that Indian mango chutney is God's gift to foie gras. Last, but definitely not least, dessert - miniature éclairs topped with dark chocolate and gold leaf, creme brulee served perfectly in an eggshell, lovely chocolate truffles, strawberry tartlets, and hazelnut millefeuille, and for Heather, lots of stinky cheese. I must not, must not, become used to this, because it will end very abruptly, come October.

We hung around the lobby of the Imperial, smelling the jasmine for as long as we could, and then got picked up by our driver, Amit, and headed for the Sikh temple, Gurdwara Bangla Sahib. Bangla Sahib is like a smaller version of the Golden Temple complex. It is not so scrupulously maintained, but it is also clearly seeing heavy use as a daily place of worship. I find Sikh temples to be very welcoming and peaceful, even when crowded. The routine here is similar to in Amritsar - remove your shoes, wash your feet, cover your head, take a promenade around the sacred pool, sit in the temple and enjoy the chanting. I imagine that the experience will not be as calming when summer sun is making the white marble glaringly hot, but in February it is very pleasant. I am so thankful for how welcoming the Sikhs are; we are extended the same courtesy as any other visitor, more in some cases, even though we stick out like a sore thumb. Heather was a little frustrated that we're still getting the 'what country are you from?' bit, but I don't ever really expect to blend in completely. I am appreciative of being made welcome and at peace with not quite fitting in.

Surfeit with happiness, good food and peace, we rolled out for Gurgaon. Heather and I are the sole occupants of the guest house this weekend, so dinner was made to order. Biryani, butter chicken, chapati and salad. The perfect end to the perfect day.

Best Day Ever

Beating Retreat . . . On A Camel?

On Monday, we were fortunate enough to get "VIP" passes to Beating Retreat, which is one of the closing ceremonies for Republic Day in India. The bands for each of the three branches of the military service, Army, Navy, and Air Force, get together and put on a show, each one trying to out-do the others. The ceremony was quite the spectacle, though rather thinly attended, which surprised us. Apparently George Clooney was in the crowd and in the cheap seats, like us, but we didn't see him...quel dommage. I was sure that he was in Delhi just to celebrate my birthday, but perhaps not....

The Indian military did a bang-up job on the great band-off. There were three full brass marching bands and a huge group of bagpipers, complete with plaid uniforms. From a distance, it looked much like something you would see in the states, however, touches of the exotic definitely shone through - the camels lining the ramparts of the government buildings, leopard skins thrown over the shoulder of the drum corps, and regional costumes integrated with the marching band uniforms. On the whole, very impressive. I think my favorite part was when all three bands lined up together and played. Halfway through the tune, the conductor lowered the volume of the marching bands, and directed someone playing a carillon from the twin campaniles of the Indian government buildings. Just beautiful. It reminded me a lot of the Stanford Hymn, and I found myself humming "from the foothills to the Bay. . . ," as we left the performance. The finale was pretty good too - they lit up all of the government buildings as Heather said, "like Tivoli gardens." I said, "or like the Disneyland Electrical Parade," at which point she informed me that Disneyland's light show is based on Tivoli Gardens. "Ooohhhh. . . ."

Qutub Minar and Humayun's Tomb

On Sunday, Heather and I repented for our shopping spree by doing some sightseeing in Delhi. Delhi is really a lovely city in many ways. There are long tree-lined streets and beautiful monuments and cultural sites right in the city proper. After working out at our very nice gym in Gurgaon, we set out to see two of the most notable sites, Qutub Minar, which is a mosque and minaret, and Humayun's Tomb.

At Qutub Minar, we were approached by a guide who offered to show us around the site for 200 Rupees (~$5). We decided this was a pretty good deal, and proceeded to have very enjoyable tour with A.G., who claimed to have been trained as an archaeologist. The complex consists of the minaret, a mosque and madrasah (Muslim school). The purpose for the minaret is much speculated upon. Our guide asserted that the tower was in fact used as a large sundial with 24 crenelated sides, each representing one of the 24 hours in a day. The monuments are an interesting mix of Muslim and Hindu artistry, being as it is a Muslim mosque, built by Hindu workers, and made from the pieces of Jain temples that had stood on the site previously. The carvings on the buildings are beautiful to look at, all done in red sandstone blocks and marble. There are bright green parrots nesting in the walls of the buildings, providing a startling contrast to the russet tones everywhere else. Apparently, Qutub Minar is the second most popular tourist destination for Indians, after the Taj Mahal, so there were lots of people walking the grounds and taking pictures. Still, it was quite peaceful, even with all of the hubbub; I would highly recommend going if you're ever in Delhi.

After our leisurely stroll through Qutub Minar, we set out for Humayun's tomb, which is also in Delhi. We must have serendipitously hit a lull in the crows, for the complex was not crowded when we arrived, nor throughout our visit. As we were leaving, however, four huge bus loads of Asian tourists rolled up, and the grounds were very quickly crowded. The buildings themselves are the attraction here, as well as the lovely gardens and waterways. Each structure is surprisingly empty. The characteristic red and white tomb, which you'll see in the pictures, is nearly empty inside, save three or four family sarcophagi. It seemed to me like a place that should have been lived in, or at least visited, for it is lovely. Heather and I were commenting that it would be nice to come back with a blanket and book, and read in the garden. Here again, there were chartreuse parrots swooping amongst the domes of the tomb and nesting in the walls. Waterways and a reflecting pool lead up to each of the main entrances, with delicate fountains casting droplets into the reflection of the sky - truly peaceful.

Sunday evening began setting in, and we were tuckered out. We headed to Connaught Place with the idea that we would do some shopping. However, the shops were mostly closed because of the day, so we just strolled around and eventually stopped in the N-block to have dinner at Banana Leaf, which offers South Indian food. We had to ask the waiter to define most of what was on the menu, but it was fun to try new things. We ordered dhosa, uthappam, and one other dish that I don't recall the name of, and topped it off with sweet-salt Lassi. Replete with fried goodness, we headed for home, only to get a guilt trip from our cook, Abdul, for delaying dinner with our flatmates - enter more snacks, just to compensate for our tardiness, of course.

All in all, a fun and fairly productive Sunday; definitely an enjoyable way to kick off our week. The roomies are planning a get-away for the weekend to Amritsar, which is the seat of the Sikh faith, so I should have many adventures to report shortly. Even with a concierge to help us in the office, just making reservations for Indian trains, hotels and flights is an adventure in and of itself. This weekend is Ms. Heather's birthday, so it's nice to have something to look forward to, for all of us. I am so lucky to have other ex-pats to spend time with, especially those who are so entertaining and such great conversationalists.

Humayun's Tomb

Qutub Minar

She Who Shops A Lot

On Saturday, Heba, Heather and I had a lazy morning. Heba slept in and Heather and I bummed around in PJs, getting the apartment set up, etc. For breakfast, Abdul made us Masala omelets, which are like an egg crepe with onion, tomato and peppers baked into the egg. We also had toast, fruit and cardamom chai. The chai here so far seems to come in three varieties - Masala, cardamom, and ginger. All are good, though I might have a slight preference for the cardamom.

Well rested and fed, we headed for Delhi with our driver Dhananjay and a list of good shopping spots from the folks in the office. Our first stop was Dilli Haat, which is a handicraft market in Delhi with tons of stalls that were chock-a-block with shawls, stoles, kurtas, shoes, bedspreads and more. Bargaining here is expected and so, with Heba's help, I refreshed the skill set that I initially acquired in Mexico's mercados, with fairly good results. I am now the proud owner of a pashmina scarf, a wool stole, a silk and wool stole, and a huge wool shawl. The textiles here are so beautiful that it's hard not to get greedy. All of the above cost me less than $40, so I think we did alright on the bargaining. Heba and Heather also bought lovely shawls and Heather found a very nice, modern-looking kurta. There were a few moments of panic as we got ready to leave Dilli Haat because we couldn't find our driver. Three cell phones were working full time, all to no effect. Luckily, he had parked nearby and we were able to walk to and find the cab, complete with somnolent cabbie, and accompanied by much giggling from the parking attendant.

After Dilli Haat, we headed to Khan Market, which is sort of like a double-decker, double-wide strip mall in Delhi. We had a late lunch at Chonas, which was quite good. Despite the opportunity to have 'continental' food, we ended up going with Indian. Heather and I ordered the rather generically-labeled 'chicken masala roll,' but it ended up being really yummy - spicy chicken and vegetables, rolled in a large, thin naan bread, with a creamy chutney (possibly sour cream and cilantro) sauce for dipping. We topped it off with a strawberry milkshake (Heather), salty lemonade (Heba), and a mango smoothie (me). Refreshed after our snack, we were off to tackle the warren of Khan market. Probably my favorite spot was Fabindia, which is sort of like a large, Indian-influenced Crate and Barrel, that also sells traditional Indian clothes. I bought a medium-length kurta, which is usually worn over traditional pants, but in Google Gurgaon chic is most often seen with jeans and flats. I also bought some very nice Indian wrapping paper at the stationery store, to replace the newsprint that was used to line my closets at the apartment.

Once we'd made a few passes through Khan Market, we were tuckered out and ready for a cocktail. We headed for a restaurant that we thought was called 'Olive,' and ended up at 'Olive Beach,' which is attached to the Hotel Diplomat. Since the bar looked lovely, we decided to stay where we landed. We were ushered into a very tastefully decorated bar with whitewashed walls, turquoise accent pillows, crackled antique silver mirrors and silvery buckets of white gladiolas. I had a cocktail called a Passionata that was a mixture with basil and some sort of passionfruit with black seeds - similar to what in Mexico is called a maracuya। It was very tasty. We also had a foie gras appetizer and a mushroom and prosciutto pizza, which were fabulous. We headed home and watched a very little bit of one of my DVDs before all three of us were sacked out. Definitely a decadent day, even by US standards, but so much fun to hang out with the girls and enjoy a bit of the culture.

Hello, My Name is मेगन

Thursday night we went into Delhi to run errands and have dinner. Our little posse includes me, Heather, and Heba from Mountain View, and James and Tim from Dublin. It has been great fun to spend some time with folks from other parts of the organization, and to have other people to hang out with. The traffic into Delhi is horrible during rush hour, so we had plenty of time to chat. Our cab driver deserves a medal for getting us there and back in one piece. But, it definitely makes for an interesting spectator sport!

We went to Connaught Place to get a camera for one of the housemates and then headed over to the Hotel InterContinental for dinner at Baluchi. The doormen at the Intercontinental were the most impressive I've seen - tall gentlemen with deep red, traditional suits, complete with turban, plume and topped off with very proud handlebar mustaches. Their "Welcome, Madame," resonates in booming tones over the lobby, with no indication that they're put off by our very casual, Western attire. It's probably gauche to go to the InterContinental in jeans and flats, but that's how we ex-pats roll ;).

Dinner was great। Baluchi is an Indian restaurant with nightly traditional music, consisting of a chanteuse accompanied by gentlemen with tom-toms and a sitar। While we have been eating very well at Google and at home, the food here was a step above. Indian food is often heavily spiced and sauced, but here you could still taste the vegetables and the flavors were very delicate. The Palak Paneer, which is spinach with Indian cheese curds, was bright green vs. the usual dark, combat green, and it tasted fantastic. We also had lovely chicken in tomato sauce and "baby lamb" (according to the menu). One does feel a bit brutish, eating baby lamb, but it was very good. James also introduced us to Kashmiri Naan, which is a buttery flat bread with pieces of dried apricots and other fruit on top - so good. We rolled home around midnight and headed straight for bed. Our cab driver stuck with us the whole time - makes for a very long day for him, but he seemed glad to do it. I suppose it's a good way to make some extra money.

Things at home are normalizing a bit. The housing coordinator very graciously provided an Indian hair dryer, so I was able to dry my hair this morning - woohoo! Heather has requested house plants (for both of us) and soft Kleenex (for me). I already asked for and got yogurt (best defense is a good offense, in sports and in fending off Delhi Belly). I fear I am becoming a horrible princess, but some of these small things make all the difference, especially when you're living in a very nice marble-floored echo chamber (I'll post pictures soon). I think my jet lag is pretty much over - I'm sleeping through the night on the new hours now, so hopefully we're moving on.

Today, I learned how to spell my name in Hindi (मेगान). We have a long way to go with the rest of the language, but it's a start for sure. We're hoping to get a Hindi instructor set up shortly, and possibly someone to teach yoga at our apartment as well.

This weekend, Heather, Heba and I are planning to explore Delhi and shop a bit. I managed to bring a ton of stuff and leave out some key things, so I'll try to fill in the gaps with local goods. The main thing is that it's still quite cool here in the evenings and I didn't bring a lot of sweaters, so I'm hoping to find a nice wool shawl - they have lovely ones here, so I'm sure that we'll find something.