The all-important auntie

My favourite desi place to eat in Seattle is a place called Chillis. The Mallu/Tam combination that runs it,  works out perfectly for the Mallu/Tam combo that we are. I can indulge the Madras in me when I feel like a change, and H gets to taste Kerala, one different bite at a time. They have two branches. One run-down deli-looking canteen-feeling place in the University District and another eclectic, 'Indian' restaurant on the East side which sadly isn't advertised specifically as Kerala cuisine. Shame because it is the only authentic Mallu place I know of in the city. Oh well, best kept secret.

The best part however about going there is the 'Auntie' who runs the place. How easily we fall into calling her that, just like all aunties back home who we meet for the first time or have known our entire lives. She is hilarious, talkative, and like many an auntie, inquisitive. Take for example our last visit there. She touched my tummy, rolled her eyes like a kathakali dancer, and asked "Mmm? Vella news undo?"("Any news?") with a cheeky grin.


I wonder how I would have reacted if it was home. I might have itched to slap her across the face. I laughed it off instead as thanks for the meenvattichu and kappa (tapioca and fish curry) that made me melt away into my ammayis' cooking in Kalady. Mmmmmm.

I shall be back. When I want to eat a piece of home, or just hear it in her chatter and chuckles.

EnnAaarAiieeee

Today I realized this month makes it six months since I've moved cities, countries, and continents. Of course this calls for some wise ruminations about the things I have seen, heard, learnt, discovered, and probed about the new place. 
Hummmm.


Seattle is like me. It's cranky, funny, quirky, curious, diverse, beautiful (inside and outside, ok? Full sesky only), strange, friendly, intelligent, fun and cosy.
I think we can be friends. Good friends.


India is me. Sun, chatter, chai, monsoon, beach, walks, mango, breeze, home.
We are family.


P.S. I just realized my maths sucks. Wait, no. I always knew my maths sucked. But I just realized I counted wrong. It in fact makes it 5+ months, not yet six. But I doubt I'll feel any different in two weeks. If I do, godpromise, I'll update this post. 

Give me my colonized rights back

Things I don't think I'll ever get used to (in order more or less):

Farenheit instead of Celcius.

Gallons instead of Litres.

Pounds instead of Kilograms.

Knowing how much a nickel is.

Knowing how much a dime is.

Hearing people say 'erbs' instead of 'H-erbs'.

Hearing people say 'r-ow-t' instead of 'r-oo-t' (for 'route' of course.)

Driving on the right hand side of the road.

Light switches being flipped down to mean you're putting them off.

Live plug points. Seriously?

It's a good thing I don't plan on living in this country forever. I'd almost always look confused. That's if I don't get run over or electrocuted first.