Of Gujjus, Dandia and Sanedo

I, like many many Mumbai brought-ups, have known gujjus for as long as I can remember. A lot of important people in my life have been or are gujjus - my project partners from my undergraduate era, my cool dude roomies from cmu days and some of my best friends here in the bay area. Now, although I am very familiar with several Gujarati traditions, customs and can even understand parts of their tongue, back in India, I had never really been able to pass off as one of them. I can recollect how some new folks I would meet during my college days would automatically shift to speaking Hindi or English, from Gujarati, when they would talk to me in the group. Something about my tam-bram-ness I guess was involuntarily forthcoming. I thought this could never change... until I went to attend bay area's biggest dandia event - SEF Dandia 2009 at the Santa Clara Convention center.... Well, almost!

Dressed in a red kurta-pyjama and armed with two bamboo sticks, I stepped, prepared, into the super huge Convention center hall. Throbbing and pulsating with live music, there was an ocean of multi-colored Ghaghra Cholees, kurtas, salwars and sherwanis. Following a durga puja, was a series of garba and dandia numbers. Garba being the harder of the two, joining a garba dancing group takes a little getting used to. It is a rhythmic sequence of steps and rapid turns that I had taken some time to get familiar with last year. So this year was much simpler. I was in-sync with doing garba with a bunch of true blood gujjus. Here's the fun part ... whether it was my ability to move with them easily, or perhaps because I appeared prepared with dandia sticks, I could not tell, but the gujju dude next to me assumed that I spoke Gujarati and started giving me instructions in Gujarati. I followed what I could understand, and by his response I think I might have guessed the meanings right! Finally, after long years, I felt happy -- I had managed to pass off as a gujju!! :-P The feeling was exhilarating!

Alas, everything was good, until Sanedo started! It's an interesting "game", where the song is divided into 4 poetic lines, now for the first three, following gujju instructions from the singers, the whole ocean of dancers all across the floor sit down low on the floor and beat their sticks to the ground making one hell of a racket. Then on the last instruction, they jump high up into the air throwing their arms about, yelling, "SANEDO SANEDO" and dancing furiously, until the singer instructs everyone to sit down again!! We could barely understand what the singers were saying, so just followed the crowd and jumped up after they jumped up. This repeated a number of times.

Still pretending to be a gujju, I asked the dude next to me if he understood the commands, in the best Gujarati I knew. He responded saying its too noisy to hear. But there was too much excitement in my head created by my feigned gujjuness. For some who-knows-what reason, I ended up thinking that I could decipher the singer's instructions on my own in the next round of jumping and dancing. I wanted to be the leader and not a follower! Alas, I so wish I were lucky. Instead of jumping at the 4th instruction, I started off at the third! While the whole hall of dancers were low on the floor, only I was high up in the air, yelling "SANEDO SANEDO" like a crazy maniac. Time slowed down as I felt a thousand eyes turn toward me, several with sympathetic glances, others with sinister HA-HA smiles. All cover was blown. A cocktail of embarrassing emotional currents coursed through my spine. I held time with frozen breath until the singer's last instruction brought up everyone else into the air with the same din I had started off with earlier. Phew!

The cool thing about dandia is mistakes are easily forgotten and forgiven. Back to being myself, I was glad, my fellow dancers feigned, if not truly felt, short term memory loss and continued to dance with me! Sanedo after-all means sneh or love.

Happy Navarathri

Labor Day Weekend at Catalina Islands

What started out as a pointless hey-what-are-you-doing-for-long-weekend type phone call on the Friday night, became a let's-leave-right-away plan in less than an hour. Shoving down chapatis, dosas, we hurriedly packed and left house Friday night itself to the car rentals at San Jose airport. Our insta-mix plan was to spend 2 days and a night at the beautiful Catalina Islands!

Pulikachal (Tamarind rice) in a convertible at LA

Fortune favors the brave. Four mavericks reached the car rentals at 2.30am Friday night only to discover that Hertz had run out of regular economy cars to rent and ended up giving us a free upgrade - a Ford Mustang Convertible! YEAH!

We drove to LA all through the night, taking turns. By morning, it was show off time -- with the top down and AR Rahman tamil songs in full volume, we scoured the streets of Beverly hills, as if we were kewl dudes who have been doing this since ages. Perhaps the only contrast came when it was breakfast time. My friend's wife who was with us, had made delicious pulikachal rice or spicy tamarind sauce rice. Now the very scene of us, four desis, eating pulikachal in paper plates from a ford mustang convertible, with its top down in downtown LA, amidst curious onlookers, is something I am not going to forget very easily.

The Enchanting Catalina

It is truly a pity of the human condition that although we have two eyes, we can only see one "item" at a time. At Catalina, this condition sorely gets exacerbated. Even a simple walk to our cottage became a problem of economic choice. Let's put it this way - when looking at a scene with a rose, the moon and some pigeons, the wise thing to do is to look first at the pigeons, since they might fly away, then at the moon, since clouds could block it and later at the rose, since it probably isn't going anywhere. If one looks the beautiful rose first, one could miss out on the pigeons!

However, our hearts went out to all those poor island inhabitants -- while we all had good clothes to wear, several members were dressed in nothing more than the very bare essentials. If Kofi Annan had walked there, I suspect, he might have had UN air-drop clothing relief packets to these poor island dwellers.

Snorkelling and Scuba diving

Snorkeling is probably one of the most fun things to do on the island. The water was just warm enough and the fish, colourful and plenty. Many thanks to our hotel manager who gave us this idea of carrying bread with us. One handful of bread crumbs into the water and the whole marine ecosystem came alive in an eye-candy feeding frenzy!
It takes a little getting used to breathing through the mouth via a pipe, but once comfortable it is just pure fun!

After spending the morning snorkeling, we headed out to the main highlight of the visit - SCUBA DIVING! Two divers are accompanied by a scuba diving instructor. We being four in number, made perfect pairs for the dives. My instructor Frank, was a very experienced professional. He helped us with our air tanks, the breathing regulator, the wet suits etc. He also gave us instructions on equalizing pressure in our ears as we descend and the most important under water hand signals.

"I am OK, why do you ask?"

The signal shown to the left means "I am OK" and Frank told us to show this when everything was good and we could descend further. Now, since we were first timers, Frank started out by holding each of our hands and guiding us lower and lower. Me and my roomie started out ok, but soon my roomie started experiencing some discomfort in his ears and decided to go back up before coming back down. I, on the other hand, had already reached down. Frank was with me for some time, but suddenly shot back up, asking me to wait. So I spent my time trying to touch some beautiful bright orange fish. After a while, I saw the familiar green oxygen tank and so quickly swam up and grasped his hand. To my surprise, he turned and made a hand motion as if to ask "What". Wondering what Frank meant, I responded with a "I am OK" signal... A few confused moments passed between us. It was only after I saw his underwater video camera did I realize that this guy wasn't Frank!! The poor cameraman's look was as puzzled a look as a scuba diver can possibly make :-)

After nearly an hour of under water fun, it was time to head back. A beautiful 1 hour boat cruise brought us back to the mainlands. What started out as an unplanned outing, became one of my most memorable trips till date!