Pachyderm Praises

"You walk like an elephant. It is a compliment, no?" declared Louba, emcee of the evening's kathakali performance. "Well, not in our countries," she continued, "but here it is!"

"Because of the way that they sway when they walk," shouted Anu in explanation from the back of the room. "You walk as beautifully as an elephant!"

A few days later I was discussing my name with my kathakali teacher, Pradeep. People always have trouble pronouncing my name, even at home. Abroad it is even worse. Countries where they speak romance languages approve of it because it ends in an "a" (very feminine), but they still don't know how to say it. Nisha, my cooking teacher, thinks it is too long, so she is calling me "Bri". Pradeep also decided to shorten it.

"I'm going to call you Anna", he laughed. Anna (pronounced Onna, the same way it sounds in my name) is the Malayalam word for elephant.
"So I'm as beautiful as an elephant," I retorted.

The next day Pradeep renamed me. "You know biryani? The food? Chicken biryani, veg biryani. I'm going to call you biryani! Just change the a to an i and switch the first two letters."

Named for a food: I can handle that. Speaking of food, cooking classes continue to be excellent. Yesterday I learned to make chapatis (flat bread) and dal curry. I expect to be eating a lot of chapatis and dal curry when I get back to the US.

After getting sick one afternoon, it took me a few days to get back to feeling like myself, but I feel great and life at the cultural centre is very enjoyable. When I first arrived, I wasn't sure I even wanted to stay the full four weeks. (Which would have been funny because I found this centre a few years and have been anxious to visit ever since.) I'm glad I gave it a few days: now I don't want to leave! Important lesson: try not to make rash decisions when you aren't feeling like yourself. A wise friend also once told me not to make important decisions laying down: you will automatically feel negative and defeated.

Surprising at first, I had more culture shock when I arrived here in the village of Aranmula than I did upon arriving in either Mumbai or Bangalore. I didn't like it at first. I think it is because I expected the cities to be big, noisy, dirty, and chaotic (most big cities are), but I expected the village to be calm and peaceful. Parts of it are, but not the main junction. Buses and motorscooters whiz by continuously. The road is lined with shops. The village has 433 families. It is nothing like the villages of 10-50 people that I last visited in Italy. But once I wandered off the main road, its appeal grew. There are cows grazing next to houses. Big palm trees and bananas trees shading the roads.

My favorite shop is the tailor. He whipped up a beautiful yoga outfit for me. it is typical to wear all white for yoga here. Incredible attention to detail and a perfect fit. Yesterday I dropped off a few more items: pants to be hemmed, a shirt to be taken in and have the sleeves attached (certain "ready-made" clothing come without the sleeves on), and fabric for a sari blouse. Custom-made clothing! I've long thought that it is unfortunate most cobblers have gone out of business in the US (I remember having my riding boots resoled growing up-- that doesn't happen anymore). I've now decided that we need more tailors as well.