A Narration of Melancholic Elation

1) It seems like most people who inhabit an area know very little of its core or periphery. For example, most of us young folks from the Dub-C East Bay Area, wouldn’t be able to take someone through San Francisco-From North Beach, to the warf, on to the Mission, up to Haight, and back without getting lost. Okay, maybe that’s just me…But I think it’s just been in the last couple years that a handful of us have made the effort to try and befriend one of the best cities on the planet, while others nearby choose to stray. Example number two, is when I stayed with a homestay family in Salamanca, Espana for 3 months. The parents whom were in their forties hadn’t been anywhere in Spain- Barcelona, Sevilla, Portugal- which was only two hours from Salamanca!! I mean how does this happen? How do people get so comfortable in their surroundings that they have no interest in exploring or knowing their home?
Example number three is Bombay. Especially so…because here in India and Pakistan anyone who has a decent lifestyle has a servant/maid, cook, and driver. This means that the driver takes them to and from their destination in air-conditioned luxury. They (anonymous) aren’t able to express any detail when someone asks them about Bombay and its intricacies.
Lucky for me, I meet someone like Mister Phillip- a fifty-year old Serbian man in the petro-chemical business who lived in Bombay for 8 years a while back. “Taizun and I will be going far down under after all the environmental damage we’ve caused in our lifetimes,” he laughs. I had lunch with him and my Uncle Taizun’s secretaries and he was hysterical. Lots of stories and very animated. After lunch, I was planning on going into Colaba…Mister Phillip said he was heading that way and that we could walk there together…From Horniman Circle we cruised…he knew Colaba inside-out… it was like taking a guided tour of a college campus. “This is the Church of England, but was renamed Church of India after independence. These lads are selling generic perfume in designer bottles. The guy who just sold me this pack of cigarettes would have given me a cheaper tabacco if I didn’t speak Hindi. Indian girls don’t want American guys. If they are seen with an American, then everyone thinks they are a slut. If an Indian guy has an American, then he is macho.” Keep going my friend. We talked about Serbian politics, Indian society, and his life all over a couple pints at Leopolds. “This is a Parsi establishment. You know that right?” He was fascinated by the Parsi culture and he was much more versed in its history and tradition. “The Parsis will die because there are so few of them and the marriage rules are too strict. They should change this.” Why so you can convert?

2) A girl named Suchi. You know those people who are usually of the opposite sex and who have an incredibly sassy, spunky, sarcastic, energetic sense of self? The people you can instantly joke around with. I love those people. Although since sarcasm is usually at the foundation of the relationship, its hard to dig beneath that towards sincerity. Or so some have told me…
She is a good friend of Melissa’s (my aunt’s daughter) and I met her my first night in Bombay. She was singing to songs on the car radio and yapping away about this and that. I later played her a track by Annie called “Heartbeat” and she was dancing and playing it over and over again. “How did you know I would like that song. That is a great track! Music, I love music. When I hear good music I feel like I can do anything!” Whoa. A couple days later she steals my hat, thinking that I am nice enough to give it to her…Well, she has still has it, but I better get it back. “It’s not everyday you meet someone so similar. It’s so great. I mean, you and I we are the same. What’s the word I’m looking for?..ummm…NOTORIOUS, yeah.”
“Notorious? I don’t think that’s the right word,” I replied.
“Yes, notorious,” Suchi says.
“Okay.”

I was last in India when I was 12, for my Navjote. This the first-communion-like ceremony for the Zoroastrian religion. It was at the Grand Hotel in Calcutta where I recited a half hour of prayers for a couple hundred people…and that was one of the last times that I ever did recite them. I recall now that I hadn’t even memorized the copious amount of prayers, but the Dustergee (priest) whom I recited them along with, had such a powerful voice, that he drowned my soft, shy voice before the crowd of people. This allowed me to get through the ceremony without any sort of embarrassment. There’s a number of other memories I have of the country…but after just stepping off the plane in the early morning, I found the most cherished one. Taking a deep breath of the Indian air for me is refreshing. Yes, its polluted and hazy, but this aspect along with so many other entities that are considered filthy are the things I really like about India and other developing countries.
I have missed this smell. Since I was 12, the only time I have gotten a nice wiff of it has been when my grandmother comes into town. No, its not her B.O. It’s when she opens her luggage up and out pops that filthy-sweet smell that knocks me back about two feet. Filthy-sweet. I’m not sure how else to describe it. But I do know it was something I was thinking about before coming here and something I was yearning to smell again.
I knew that my Aunt’s driver would be picking me up with my name on a sign. After, the guy stamped my passport and gave me the traditional Indian grin with nod to the side, I saw the guy with the sign, and I gave him a wink and a smile.
Even just driving home to my Aunt’s house, it all seemed so vaguely familiar. My senses have been so awakened since coming here. Bombay is Juhu and Cowpatty beach. Its Bandra and Colaba along with so many other bubbling, thriving spots. It’s auto-rickshaws honking profusely at the pedestrians and bicyclists, whom are barely managing to meander their way through th lanes or scurry across the street…usually to miss getting nabbed by mere centimetres. It’s the infrastructure that makes Bombay beautiful. The congestion, traffic, floods of people, and how it all seems to barely work out in the end. They say that if you can drive in Bombay, you can drive anywhere in the world. A guy I met recently added, “If you can drive in Ahmedabad and Calcutta, you can drive anywhere in the universe.”
So much contradiction, poverty, diversity, income disparity, and contrasts. It all adds up to the creation of the intense beauty of being caught in the grips of this fascinating city.
I thought that this American Desi would stick out like a bloody, sore thumb, amongst neatly manicured fingers, but if I keep my mouth shut it’s not quite the case in thi s modern metropolis. But I don’t keep my mouth shut normally. I almost find myself being very proud that I have this American accent and I feel happy with a cahnce to display it. I try not to judge others, but at times I do feel some sort of superiority- this usually doesn’t occur towards the poor, but at the rich, hip youth of Bombay. My first night in town, Melissa (my Uncle Taizun and Aunt Perveen’s daughter) took me to a hookah bar-coffee shop. The guys are quite fashionable with their hip haircuts and apt to the latest style of the States, while the ladies are astonishingly breathtaking period. Simply unbelievable. Whether in tight fitted jeans to show off their figure or in the traditional, vibrantly colored salvakameeses- I am equally in awe of either. You can say that I’ve been a tad deprived of the Indian woman, while I’ve lived the first twenty-two years of my life in Walnut Creek. What did we have like five Indians maybe out of a population of 1,200 at Las Lomas?
The café seen has sprouted up like no other in Bombay over the past few years. Small chains like “Barista”, “Mocha”, and “Café Coffee Day” are on corners of happenin’ parts of town and young people flock there as if a Bollywood star is expected to be there. No, there will be cameo appearances tonight- it’s a place to be seen for some “coffee and conversation”, as one of the slogans go

Friday morning I awoke alert at 7a.m., ready for the day. I did some yoga and push-ups on the cool marble floor of my room, and told my Aunt I was going for a run on the beach. Today, was Eid, a holiday for the nation and a celebration for Muslims. The beach was already alive with activity: kids playing soccer and cricket, adults out for a walk or jog, and behl puri or paratha vendors getting prepared for the day.
A reoccurring theme for over the past few years, is that when I move from home I feel inspired to exercise, do yoga, and my thoughts flow more fluidly. All of this initially, as my consistency in most endeavors seems to gradually dwindle.
There’s a lot more sociological analysis of Bombay to come along with some other thoughts…perhaps when I return here next week.

I just met Zameer, the son of my “Aunty” Haseena’s (sister of Ruxana), for the first time in quite a few years. I definitley have some fond memories of this guy and his incredible idiosyncrasies. He is a music nut and I’m looking forward to see how he takes to some of the stuff I’ve accumulated over the years. When I was in India 13 years ago I asked him to keep repeating Right Said Fred’s “I’m Too Sexy,” as we drove in his car for ice cream in Bombay. And what did I spread his way when he came to Cali around the same era? Well, it’s a little embarrassing, but this is what he said last night. “Revaz, I listen to retro man. I am compiling a library of hits from 1950-1989. And you are the one who got me hooked on that Michael Bolton song ‘Steel Bars’.” And then he proceeded to sing it so that his wife and mother knew what he was talking about. “Steel bars wrapped all around me, I’ve been your prisoner since the day you found me…” I felt that mixture of embarrassment and humor when he told me this. I swear it was 1990. I was in 4th or 5th grade and I liked that fabio looking dude along with Huey, Debbie, Hall & Oates (they are still great), Chicago, etc. Some of that 80s stuff is still fantastic, but most of it just doesn’t live like it used to. Much like how I used to love Dave Matthews and the magical feeling I would get from seeing him live…not anymore.
I like to think back to the time of when I was 12 years and the evolving that has occurred in my life so far, whether it has to do with musical tastes, styles, morals, friends, etc etc… My earliest influence had to have been my father with jazz and pop: Frank Sinatra, Glenn Miller, Gloria Estefan, Madonna, and Sammy Davis Jr. to name a few. I proceeded to listen to 101.3 and loved 80s pop for a couple years. In junior high, I started watching MTV (Dre, Onyx, Salt N’ Pepa) and listening to a lot of Gangsta Rap, which influenced my style and character a lot. Oatey and I would take the bus home from Walnut Creek Intermediate, where we would hassle the Coelho brothers and make fun of this girl with the rest of our buddies. After getting off the the bus we we go to Thrifty’s and Longs for our daily “five finger discounts.” We had a strategy that was absolutely brilliant: Our khakis were baggy enough to where we could peg the bottoms into the socks and the pants would still hang over to the sole of the shoes…We would walk in, cruise the isles and everything was for the taking- cool water cologne, baseball cards, candy, and toiletries. Any of these items could be dropped down our pants and stay unoticed by employees ’cause of the ripples in our baggy Old Navy Khaks. We would then walk back to either of our houses and make a mix tape of the latest stuff: 2pac, Too $hort, Domino, Mac Mall, Coolio, Ice Cube, Dre & Snoop, and NWA. This is where my love for making compilations all began. We would then grab some kudos, the new beats, and a boom box and bring it all out to the b-ball court. These were the days when I had some game and a great outside shot (that got lost just a couple years later)… I usually skooled fools like Oatey (haha, sucka), unless we were playing for tangible goods like a Potna Duece tape. If Oatey has something to lose, be it money at a Pa Soy Dos card game or an album, he will elevate game 10-fold.
The gangasta rap genre defined junior high and high school for me and most of my friends. For us suburban well-to-do kids, it allowed us to relate to the contradictory “oppressive/glamorous” lives of rappers from Oakland, Vallejo, and L.A. And during my ganja blowing days of high school, Mac Dre and R.B.L., helped me relate to the slangin’, gangsta minded, dont’ gimme no bammer type of lifestyle.
Independent/Underground hip-hop hit me with the swiftness post-high school. Talib Kweli’s “Train of Thought”, Zion I’s “Mind Over Matter,” Blackalicous’ “NIA,” and Atmosphere’s “Lucy Ford” all hit me in the span of a year. This is where my appreciation for lyricism, original rhyme pattern, and superb production took form. A web of people was created who were all taken back by this sudden surge of mind blowing artists. The fact that they were hidden from the mainstream and were staying true to independent record labels was what gave them even more respect and clout. Groups like Living Legends and Crown City Rockers, who could rock a show and prove themselves live gained even more. This was around 1999-2003…The years that hip-hop really expanded and brought us so much- these artists had strayed from the now regeritated “bitches, blunts, 40s” storytelling to a more conscious, positive approach…but in my opinion the dip happened shortly after. Very few of these artists have maintained a high caliber of work. Their last couple albums have either been garbage or they finally sold out for commercialism. I try to be positive about artists becoming popular, but losing the qualities that I loved you for….well, now that’s just wrong…
Luckily for me, I lived with some people in the last couple years, who revolutionized what I listen to. Even before moving to San Diego, I heard a handful of incredible albums via the Salamanca crew. My homie Alex de La Cruz gave me Radiohead’s “Kid A”, Quasimoto ‘The Unseen”, and DJ Shadow’s “Endtrucing”, all while we wandered the streets of Spain. Gabe McNatt from Texas A&M, who lived with me in Summer 03′, gave me an immense introduction into the indie rock genre with artists like Doves, Wilco, Elefant, and Grandaddy. Nathan Sizemore tossed me The Kings of Convenience, Royksopp, Tommy Guerrero, Stars, Parsley Sounds, and 50 others…
A Matt Scovill once said, “Spreading stories of travel is the currency to friendship.” This may ring true, but I think it’s “Spreading great tunes make for a endless friendship,” and this has caused me to consistently ask people, “So what what have you been listening to lately?”

Well, finally trailing far behind the footsteps of kexp.org, pitchforkmedia.com, NPR, and homies El Oso, El Moreno, and the Great Gabe McNatt… I shall now present my favorite bands/artists of 2004. I’m still a sucker for that sappy music, just like when I was 12, listening to Bolton and Bryan Adamns.

1) Death Cab For Cutie: Ben Gibbard is an incredibly original lyricist and his versatility is of the utmost. This is clearly seen by looking at all the work he has compiled during the past few years. The fusion of indie rock and electronica with his group DNTEL, led to the birth of The Postal Service, whose album “Give Up” broke into the mainstream this last year. Death Cab is his purely indie-emo rockin ‘group, which has 5 or 6 albums. The two most recent- “The Photo Album” and “Transatlanticism” are both superb and I haven’t been able to get enough of either. The tracks “Information Travels Faster” and “Title and Registration” are both work checking out. I could probably say that one of the reasons for this BLOG being called “melancholic elation” is because of them. In 2004, I became fully aware of my desire to feel melancholy almost as much as happiness. In Milan Kindera’s “Unbearable Lightness of Being” (redundant, I know Oso), the main character is walking down the street in Prague…he is feeling a longing for a former love but in the process he is also enjoying the intensity of the nostalgia and the fact of walking around as a free man in a beautiful city. I too, came to realize that melancholy doesn’t have to be a sad…it can be a joyful emotion and music can help trigger it.

2) The Kings of Convenience - These guys are a Norwegian duo and I think they are abolutely brilliant and fantastic. They are pretty mellow like Belle and Sebastian, but I find them to excel far beyond. Some people have said their voices get a little old. I understand, but completely disagree. I think thier voices are quite soothing, especially in unison, and their lyrics are exceptional. Their first album is “Quiet is the New Loud.” This is a very solid, consistent effort, but the remix album called “Versus” is what really struck me. What you basically have are excellent electronic, danceable beats done by some of the best groups in Europe (i.e. Royksopp & Four Tet) with the voices of The Kings over it. Their latest album to drop in 2004 “Riot on an Empty Street,” is another gem. It’s pretty chill for the most part, but they quicken it up with more piano, drums, and violins. Tracks like “Misread” and “I’d Rather Dance With You” (You know you wanna sing along Roch!) are brilliant.

3) The Stills - Gabe dropped by SD on his way back to College Station, Texas after going to Coachella. He threw the album “Logic Will Break Your Heart” into the car deck and I instantly dug it. They have a good rockin’ sound with nice electric riffs and lyrics like “The sordid way her loaded phrases infiltrate your skull,” on the track “Gender Bombs.”

4) Lali Puna - A German electronic group with subtle-soft female vocals. They also have incredible electric guitar riffs, bridging the indie-electronica divide. Their 2004 album is “Faking the Books.” Some of the members are also in The Notwist. S Dot sent me both their albums sometime in October and “Neon Golden” quickly grabbed me. The track “Consequence” is especially dope.

5) Air - Everytime I hear “Talkie Walkie” now it brings me back to January last year in SD. Living with Nate and Harmony was truly a fantastic experience. This album reminds me of the winter, the cold floor in the morning, turning the kettle on, and a special person in my life during that time…

6) Broken Social Scene - Another Gabe/Nate pick. This band had mad talent with their 15 members (Some from Stars who are so cool. Stars’ “Heart” should really be on here). I don’t really like the very rockin’ material on here, but preferring the chill instrumentals with soft vocals. But that’s me right?

7) The Decemberists - Hard to like the vocalists’ voice sometimes. But his lyrical originality and the orchestration of trumpets, violins, harmonicas, guitars, and drums are excellent. “The Gymnast High Above the Ground”, peep it.

8) Dzihan & Kamien - Austrian DJs with a 15 piece orchestra sounding like Thievery Corporation. “Gran Reserva” is their studio album and I prefer it to the “Live in Vienna” album that became pretty popular in 04′. The best thing about world electronic music like this is that it breaks through generational boundaries. Thievery, Saint Germain, and these guys both get two thumbs, a grin, and an eye brow raise from the pops.

9) The Foreign Exchange - Netherlands/US hip-hop. The most refreshing hip-hop I heard this year because th production is soulful-R&B and electronic.

10) Wilco- Gabe calls Wilco “The most important band of our time. The music we will be playing for our kids” I like that. “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” is a masterpiece and its something that has gotten much love by me over the past few years. Folky, indie, country-y. I wasn’t really digging “A Ghost is Born” when I first got it and Oso is giving me hell now that I say I like it. “War on War”, “Heavy Metal Drummer,” and “Handshake Drugs”. Greg Paulson, what are handshake drugs?

11) Communique- Via S Dot… A fun album like what Elefant’s “Sunlight Makes me Paranoid” was for 2003.

12) Mogwai - The E.Ps album…….Steve, my neighbor in Mission Hills threw this on one late night after some beer drinking. It soon became the melancholic late night anthem music.

13) Boards of Canada - My “let’s grab cup of joe at Gelato Vera with a labtop, headphones, a pink-orange sunset over the San Diego airport, and some post-college thoughts album.” Its called “In a Beautiful Place Out in the Country.”

14) Frou Frou - Heard her first on The Garden State soundtrack, the best soundtrack from my favorite flick of 2004. She has an incredible voice and the production is of equal status.

15)m83 - The most innovative album of 2004. You'’ have to read about them somewhere else because I can’t do them justice.

16) Misc. Hip-hop: Maroons - “Ambush”, Mos Def - “The New Danger”, The Roots - “The Tipping Point”, and Crown City Rockers - “Earthtones”: They are all pretty solid efforts and Mos Def is the Andre 3000 of 2004 due to his creativity in this multi-genre album.

17) The Arcade Fire- I finally got their full album “Funeral” two weeks ago and am starting to finally appreciate the incredible hype it has gotten.

18) A worthy mention goes to The Shins- “Chutes Too Narrow,” Thievery Corporation-”The Outernationalist Sound,” and JohnVanderslice- “Cellar Door” (which Gabe hit right on when he said “an excellent attempt at songwriting.”

As back in the states, there’s nothing quite like sitting down early in the morning with a cup of tea and the paper. I was awaiting to hear about the present current affairs here and The Times of India does a pretty good job of giving me the dose I’m looking for. So what grabbed me this week?

-The city of Bombay started giving motorcycle and scooter riders 100 rupee (2 dollar) tickets if they are not wearing a helmet. They tried doing this in Pune a couple years a go, but because of citizen protest, the city didn’t enforce it. On Friday the Bombay cops handed out several hundred tickets on the law’s initial day, which sparked outrage amongst riders who said that they hadn’t even had ample time to purchase helmets yet. A funny note, is that Sikhs (those urban turban wearers) are exempt from this law.

-The Indian paper believes that the European proposal to ban the swastika is ridiculous. The Nazis took and altered this symbol from a Sanskrit symbol which means “well-being.” So for Europeans to abolish this in its entirety for display is preposterous. How can they ban something and infringe on the freedom of expression, while trampling on an ancient Sanskrit symbol? Any thoughts?

-In 2002, it was claimed that some Muslims had set a train on fire in Gujarat, killing several Hindu activists. This created a reaction of state-sponsored terrorism by the BJP (the extreme right-wing Hundu fundamentalist party of India), in which thousands of Muslims were slaughtered. Muslims would call the police department for help, and the officers would be respond, “Are you Hindu or Muslim?” When the head of the party, Modi, was asked why this was happening and why the government was allowing this genocide to occur, he answered “For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”
A few days ago an interim reort was published that stated that the train’s fire was an accident and not conducted by hateful Muslims. What?!?! After 3 years, this is now being reported. It was defintely a suspicion by many, but now this report is being heavily criticized, as the BJP says this is all being politicized. Although the BJP has suffered politically since the Gujarat massacre, they have been looking at making a comeback in local assembly elections. They are even crying out to the Muslim community to vote for them, while only endorsing one Muslim candiadate, amongst hundreds of others. I did a research paper on the massacre last year for a human rights class, so I guess I’m a little interested in the latest updates.

On the plane, listening to The Unicorns- one of the new aquisitions from Timmy Lee. He threw some of his latest offerings onto my iTunes, via his Ipod, a couple days ago. But I’m a little irate right now that I forgot a couple albums by another band that I was digging- I think their name is Mirah?
This aircraft departed SFO around noon30 and is filled to about 1/3 capacity. A complete row being enjoyed by myself, the Wall Street Journal, some beats, and pad and pen.

So what happened over the weekend?…besides me running errands on the daily, Friday thru Sunday.
On Friday evening my sister Rochelle came back home from Santa Barbara. We grabbed a pitched of I.P.A. at Pinky’s Pizza, finding pleasure in just kicking back and chillin…like right now-
I finally feel the boulders from my shoulders completely lifted. I just put The Album Leaf’s “In a Safe Place” (courtesy of Reuel) into my discman. I saw them open for Pinback, a month back at Bimbo’s in North Beach and I recall hearing half their set with Nina and Lara thinking, “This is melodic and chill…I like this.” There’s that melancholic, introspective mood that intrumental artists like Explosions in the Sky, Mogwai, and Boards of Canada evoke that I really love. But DJ Shadow’s “Endtroducing”, Miles’ “Kind a Blue”, and the music from “Amelie” have to be my favorite albums to write or study to.

So Rochelle and I polished off our last gulps, giving me the slight buzz I was seeking before heading to San Jose to pick up my Uncle Brian. While I was doing this, Roch would be waiting to snag Roy (another uncle, but who prefers not to be refered by as such) from the BART station.

By the time 1 a.m. rolled around, we were all back home grubbing on some Chicken Stroganoff and laughing away the early morning in the kitchen with dad and mom (and yes, she did get a surprise). Roy, if you would care to share the details of how you surprised Mom while she was sleeping, please do so.

Saturday was a morning and afternoon of preparation, an evening of stressing, and a night of partying. I forgot to remind a couple folks that the time of the function had changed- so three peeps showed up around 6. Oops. But it was the family friends I had invited, but had not informed my dad about, that threw him for a tailspin. He said, “You, me, garage, now.” I nodded and followed him down the hall, to the garage where he spoke bluntly. “You’ve invited too many people. There’s not enough food. As far as I’m concerned, you and I are done. You’re on your own tonight.” My reaction was calm and collected, though I too was worried that my lack of organization was going to backfire. I knew I had screwed up, but was definitley not willing to admit any sort of fault yet. You know how that is right?
“Look, everyone is going to have a great time tonight. If you don’t, then it’s your problem, not anyone elses.”
There were a number of people who had undergone hardships in 2004- Separation from a spouse after 35 years, death of a son…Thus there was the potential of some somber energy being brought to a lively atmosphere. But my perspective on that was opposite. These people are interesting, good people and I am providing a space for them to enjoy themselves amongst my parents’ animated, sparkling friends. Indeed, I do feel it were these folks that made the night.
As the beer and wine flowed, Rochelle & a few of my mother’s friends pulled together to ensure that appetizers and dinner were taken care of. I scurried to a neighbor’s house, whom I had spoken to in years (and ended up talking with her longer than I ever would have), to grb some more wine glasses.
The lamb biryani, lamb curry, tandoori chicken, Gordon’s appetizers, and so much other delicious food left people going back for fifths while ranting and raving. Soon after people finished dinner, the dancing started. Patrick, Alana, Stella, Eddie, Ali, Ashley, Sheila, Ruxana, Abi, my pops, sis, mom, and myself. It was happenin’! It was probably the first time I had felt comfortable dancing at my home or at almost any other occasion with my ‘rents. The abundance 0f Pyramid Hefeweizens and no dinner for myself (partly because of the fear of food shortage) might explain the case partly. A highlight had to have been when I put on US3’s “Cantaloop”. This track came out when I was about 16 and became one of the few tracks early on that bridged the music tastes of my father and I. The steady-jazzy beat with trumpets and saxaphones, along with the fluid flow of the lyricist, make this track one of the best hip-hop songs of the 90s. This song was followed by The Roots’ “Seed 2.0 with Cody Chestnutt which enjoyed equal love by the dance party.

To say that the party was a success, is to put it mildly. When at least five peeps come up to you saying “This was the best party I’ve ever been to. The variety of people and ages! Great job!” It was definitley a special evening.

I have felt a little exhausted with the question “What are you going to do in India?” It’s almost as bad as the “What are you going to do after college?” or “What are you going to do with that (Third World Studies degree)? But I have been truly touched by people’s warm regards, excitement for me, and even their envy. A handful feel so happy, that they say “I feel like I’m coming with you.” I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that for someone else.

I’ve been working a Global Exchange and Park Day School now for about four months (mid September-mid January). After struggling to find niches in both environments, I’ve found the connections established with some people to be quite incredble. I had thought that I would be in and out of both atmospheres without any sadness in leaving or any solid relationships with anyone. I’m happy this was not the case. And I’m happy my pops and everyone had a great time at the party. Happy birthday Mom and thanks for finally ENJOYING a surprise!

If you ever have 6 hours to kill at an airport, Singapore is the place to do it at. I’ve seen Singapore before, many years ago with my folks (and I’ll be stopping here for three days on my way back to the States in June). I think it just slipped my mind regarding how advanced these people are and how much on the cutting edge of convenience, technology, and cleanliness they are. My dad made a comment yesterday before I left that, “It’s amazing that an island in the South China Sea, with only 4 million inhabitants, has one of the best airlines in the world. Why is that? And India, with over one billion doesn’t have one decent one.” I agree. What’s up with that. It seems to be one of the many cases in India, where nationalization has stunted any competition or growth.
I’ll post my airplane journey- written in my journal- after I get settled into Bombay, where the temperature is looking to be a cool 87 degrees for the weekend.

So I was going to start this off with something completely different, but after the evenings latest occurence, I must spill what just happened.
I’m leaving for India on a little five month expedition in 4 days…meaning I am racking my nerves, trying to figure out last minute items I need, people I want to call, etc…its a good feeling knowing that I am leaving with no strings, commitments, or attachments behind.
The other event that is going on is that I am throwing my mother a surprise 50th birthday party on Saturday (in two days). I should be banned from throwing parties. When I decide that I am the host of any sort of gathering, I ensure that every person with any amount of personal contact (glares included) with myself gets invited. You can bet that I have had some ragers over the years. For example, Senior year homecoming dance+parents overseas= a bash!! So, when I decided to have a party for my mom, I did some major calling, oh yes I did. What’s the result now? Her brother from Iowa and her cousin from Virginia are both flying into Oakland tomorrow evening. So you can bet that I’ve been excited regarding the chances for a successful surprise party.
Well, I’m chatting with my friend Lara on the phone with my room door closed, perousing through nostalgic slideshows on my computer, and I hear my dad yell my name “Raaaaayvaz!” The phone simultaneously disconnected with Lara, and I left the room to seek what this yell was regarding. I walk into my parents room where it is dark and only my father is laying in bed. My mother is downstairs. He says in a low, stern voice, “Your mother heard you talking on the phone. She heard you say ‘my two uncles are coming tomorrow’. You have a big mouth.”
What?!? I wanted to slap myself. Damnit. After being able to keep a secret and be so excited about it for weeks, I had spilled the beans a day before their arrival. She had somehow heard me. I could have sworn I had whispered it softly over the phone while my room was closed. Shucks. I decided to go downstairs and do some computer biz with a Death Cab for Cutie’s “Transatlanticism” album in my hand. Sitting down I was anxiously awaiting my mother’s appearance and interrogation. It came…
“Tell me what’s going on. Are Brian and Roy coming tomorrow? I hate surprises, please just tell me. Look at me. The house is a mess. I won’t be able to handle it if they are here and the house is like this. What’s going on Saturday night?”
I tried as hard as I could to tell my mom that she had misheard what I said on the phone and that was talking preposterously. I had my usual grin on my face. Even when I’m not guilty of a “crime”, throughout my childhood, I can’t help but grin or laugh…which makes me look like an even bigger culprit. But I think it benefited me this time. I was somewhat able to laugh it off like she was crazy. I think she’s on to it though. We’ll see how it all goes down this weekend. Although the party is Saturday night, my uncles fly in tomorrow. My dad and I had decided earlier that they would come over tomorrow night, instead of grabbing a hotel and just killing time for 24 hours before the par-lay. This would ease the shock for my mom for Saturday (actually, probably give it away), allow us all to have more time together, and not force them into wasting ducats on a hotel. We’ll see how everything goes down…