Ayayooooo

One of the things that will never cease to amaze me about India - There's never a dull moment. The minute you think.. "Ah! I can relax now" Something really crazy happens.

Let me start from the beginning. I know I haven't been blogging as frequently as before, and when I do.. the entry is 18 pages long. Well let me warn you - this is another one of those. Sorry:)

Student Concert
Venice was one of the most inspiring experiences of my life. I had a couple days to rest once I returned to India, and then almost immediately, had to start stressing about my students. I had planned a student recital for October 5. It was time to bring out the whip. It's funny how in the beginning of the year (this happened last year as well) the students are sooo excited to begin learning Western Voice, not really knowing what that entails and not at all prepared for the hard work, concentration, and work ethic it involves. Then once they realize it's not what they thought it would be, about half of them begin to lose enthusiasm, stop coming to class, constantly have "the flu" etc. etc. The other half on the other hand, really start to blossom into musicians. As a teacher it is so exciting to see potential - it's really what motivates me every day and it's what I love about my job. I don't know if all teachers feel this way, but I seem to have somewhat bipolar reactions to all my students during the day. Of course I try to be as neutral as possible when I'm talking to them; always a smile on my face, always trying to motivate and inspire. But in my head I'm thinking "You make me want to die. What is this life? This hour is a waste of my life. I wonder how much a flight to San Francisco costs right now...." And then when a student has clearly been working hard and understands the basics, I want to jump for joy and parade them around like a trophy. Is that normal? I don't know. It certainly gives me a bit of insight into my education though.
Anyhow, the recital went well. I was a nervous little mother duck in the back of the room mouthing the words. I think everyone was happy:)
Three of my students: Mugdha Hasabnis, Azaan Khan, and Rituraj Sen.
Photos by Claire Ronsin

Paris
One of my friends from UCI, Alicia, recently got married in San Francisco to a Frenchman she met a few years ago. I couldn't go to the wedding, but Sylvain's side of the family threw a reception in Paris. I, as well as two of my close friends from college went. It was a mini reunion of sorts, and definitely worth it.


Diwali
I came back from Paris last Thursday and immediately the Diwali celebrations began. I know I wrote about the experience last year, but this year... was....absolutely....crazy. To top it off, Archana, Vaman, and Sumeeth came in from Bangalore so I was excited to party it up with some familiar faces. Everything was going wonderfully... until Saturday. The city was ablaze in lights and color. It sounded like a war zone outside - all the neighbors were lighting crackers and fireworks. We hung out on the street with the neighbors and did our share of lighting crackers. Once we ran out we realized we were really hungry and decided to go to Royapettah for dinner. We got on our scooties and left. Apparently, five seconds after we turned the corner, a firecracker, which was lit by a kid from a neighboring slum, hit our thatched roof which immediately caught on fire. We had just reached the restaurant when Claire got a call from the owner shouting "The house is on fire! The house is on fire!" When we got back to the house, the entire roof was destroyed. Nothing happened to us or our belongings.... but if we had stayed on the roof for 10 more minutes we would have been hit. A neighbor took a video on his cell phone:




If you just watched that... don't freak out. No one was hurt and none of our valuables got damaged. But how crazy is that? Arch, Vaman, and Sumeeth helped us clean up the mess - (THANK YOU!) And by the end of the night we got the electricity back on, and cleaned up most of the mess in the house.

Needless to say, the owner was beyond pissed off. And now it's become a moral/financial issue: If you point the finger at the slum kid on the street, the only thing that'll happen is he'll be severely beaten by the crooked cops and thrown in jail. It's not our responsibility because it was an accident caused by someone else. The owner is technically financially responsible for the damage, but it was Claire and Viviane who covered the roof deck with a thatched roof. So what now?
We wait and see.
I have a feeling we will end up negotiating 50/50 but regardless, the fire caused about a lakh of damage. So 50,000 divided by three is not SO bad, but still... One of the moments in my life that will stick with me forever: the sinking sensation of coming home from the restaurant and seeing the black, charred roof on the street, seeing the house completely flooded with water, and thinking "there are no landlord/tenant laws here. We are responsible for this." - one of the first times I've felt proud to be an American.

It seems that as you get older the space between high and low, happy and sad, tends to get bigger and bigger. The highs are really high and the lows are really low. 10 years ago my life circulated around a midpoint - a status quo - which was... well... ME. The older you get the more you realize how much else there is to consider when making a decision; and how many other people that decision will affect. In some ways I love that. But in some ways I want to be 16 again - where my biggest problem was wondering who I will ask to Prom.