Being Veg

We arrived in Chennai on January 1st of this year and since that time, we have been what is called "veg" here. Being a vegetarian is so common that a restaurant is either Veg or Non-veg, and it's about a 50/50 split on the number of restaurants.

For us, being Veg means no red meat, no chicken, no fish. The most strict vegetarians here will not eat eggs, garlic, and onions as well, but we still indulge ourselves on those items.

Being veg has a lot of advantages for us:

-Cheaper meals (at least 20 rupees cheaper at a restaurant)

-Not worrying about if meat is going to spoil in the fridge, or if it gets left out on the counter, or if bits of bacteria are hiding in a cutting board

-Being able to freely invite others to eat our food. Many who are vegetarian here will always question what something is made of. Also, they will not want to eat off dishes that have had meat on them before, even if they are washed.

-Being Veg is seen as a practice of those who are more spiritual or religious

-After seeing where some of the meat is sold, it becomes much less appetizing

-It's usually a shock for someone to learn this about us, which always invites interesting conversation

Part of the training that we do is getting the trainees more familiar with American culture, and they are always interested in our "food habits". Here are some snippets of conversations:

"So are the Veg restaurants in the US very good?"

"Uhhh...." (I could not for the life of me think of any chain of restaurant that had only vegetarian food - help me out if you know of any!)

"The Midwest has a lot of farmland."

"What kinds of things do they grow?"

"Mainly corn and soybeans. But we don't eat those."

[confused looks] "What do you do with them?"

"Well, we feed them to our animals and then eat those."

[gasps of horror!]

"I want to know some of the famous American Vegetarian dishes."

"Umm, potato salad?"

"But there aren't any main dishes that are vegetarian?"

"Not any really common ones."

"Well what about pot roast - I've heard of that one."

"Umm, it's not exactly vegetarian..."

Always barter

When we first moved here, I loved the thrill of bartering with auto-rickshaw drivers. It was fun to get our feet wet and try to learn how to do it. Quickly, though, the novelty of it wore off and I found myself dreading the bartering process and hoping that the driver would just agree with our first price and we could move on. However, after some careful reflection, I have come to a new appreciation of the back-and-forth that must happen between a passenger and a driver. In fact, it is critical to ensuring a quality, safe and fair auto experience. You see, if you tell a driver where you want to go and he immediately agrees on the price without arguing with you:

1) He didn't understand you and therefore you will get lost

2) He doesn't actually know the location you are talking about and therefore you will get lost

3) You offered to pay way too much and therefore you will be overspending

4) He's had 'one too many' and therefore you might die

All of these possibilities don't bode well for the passenger. Once I realized that lack of bartering was simply a short-term gain with some serious long-term set-backs--I now deeply appreciate a driver who wants to dicker with me. It means the opposite of the above four, which is exactly what I want in a driver.

Bring on the bartering!

Indian Carry-Out

We've got a little eatery about a block away from us that we go to whenever we need a quick bite. Or, in the case of these photos, when I've made an Indian gravy that needs to be sopped up with some delicious, homemade bread. Packaging is a little different than the States :)

Paratha bread wrapped up in banana leaves & twine.

Sambar, a vegetable stew, and raita, a yogurt & onion based condiment, in the plastic & twine.

In other news, has anyone else noticed how frequently I post about food?

Language Learning

I (Neil) have spent the last few weeks in an intensive month-long Tamil program. It's been pretty good and has given me a good foundation for more learning in the future, but being conversational is still a ways away. One problem is just finding people to practice with as most people only want to speak English with us. Here's a conversation I had on the bus today:

"So where are you from?" asks a 20 year old guy
"America lirundhu [from America]."
"What?"
"U.S. lirundhu"
"Oh, US. Are you working here?"
"Naan velai seirein [I am working]"
"What? You speak English, right?"
"[sheepishly] Yeah, I'm working here."
"How do you like Tamil Nadu (the state)?"
"It's really nice, I'm trying to learn the language, but it's very hard since I don't get to practice it much."
"Yeah, the only way to learn it is to practice talking with people. You have to practice a lot. So, where are you staying?"
"Thiruvanmiyur tengi irukein"
"What?"
"Nevermind..."

It's not delivery! It's homemade Indian food..

We were enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon when a knock came to our door; it was our new neighbor holding 2 containers full of some delicious smelling food. She was cooking lunch and thought we would enjoy some.

How awesome is that?

the remnants of yummy-ness.

Be jealous.

Handy Man

I've always aspired to being a handyman around the house. It is such a great feeling to be able to see something that needs fixed and totally fix it with your own hands.

Here in India, there is not a lot of room for the do-it-yourself personality. No Home Depot, no Lowe's, and a lot of funny looks if you walk into a small hardware store.

So, when a few problems arose in our flat, I was anxious to see how well I

could fix them using only the tools I brought over (1 screwdriver, 1 pair of pliers).

Problem #1: The drain where the water from our washing machine empties is too high. The hose usually comes out and then floods the bathroom with dirty water. After many attempts to correct this one, I finally realized I needed to stabilize the hose somehow to stay up.

Solution: I used a lot of string from some bags we had to make one long rope which I tied to the washing machine and then to the hose. I'm pretty proud of that one as it has worked and stayed in place.

Problem #2: The doorstop on the bathroom door will not stay up and so it is always dragging and prevents you from ever actually closing the door.

Solution: I wanted to lodge something in the hinge to keep the doorstep from falling down. Without many other options I chose to chew two pieces of Juicy Fruit (to match the paint) and set them around the doorstop, hoping it would dry and hold it up. That idea failed miserably. The doorstop is still annoying and now it has gum all over it.

With the odds stacked against me, I think 1 out of 2 is pretty good.

Heaven Song

Some people have the gift of marrying words with rhythm; the gift of song. I do not. It is the one gift I wish I had. I feel music inside of me all of the time, especially in moments of especial intimacy with Christ, but I've never been able to get that music out. I have always struggled with writing poetry, singing harmony, remembering lyrics--but I love them all deeply. I have always had to rely on others to pen the words in my heart. Only in the last few years have I become especially aware of this..."block". I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with this self-realization--did it mean I had a sin that I just wasn't letting go of? Is there a part of me that first needs to be stripped away, to free me to sing the way my heart feels? The question of whether I was supposed to have this gift never occurred to me, because I am; I feel it. So why is it not coming?

Thinking about my beautiful friend, Kylee, and her death 2 months ago, has made me restless for Jesus to come back. I feel more aware than ever that Neil and I are not supposed to be "together forever", that I don't want to live to be 900 years old, and that this world is not at all the way that it is supposed to be. My heart belongs somewhere else--somewhere beyond the love found in friends, family, marriage, and country. My heart belongs with Him; that is the only place it will find rest.

I am realizing that no words I speak and no tune that I sing will ever fully reflect the affection my Brother, Friend, Lover and King has for me. Maybe God has put this longing for song throughout my body, knowing that it will not be quenched in this life. Maybe it was meant to be my pointer to the hope of heaven; my reminder that I have so much more of Christ to experience.

Someday I will sing with total abandon the heart song inside of me.
Maybe it's just a matter of waiting for Heaven.

Come quickly, Lord. I'm ready to sing.

Kylee, I'm a little jealous.