My Week in Austin

Last Monday morning I left Alu's at 4:30am so that I arrived at JFK well ahead of my flight - so I could wait again. We finally took off and that's when I felt somewhat sure that we'd actually land in Austin about four hours later. I got a good view of Coney Island beach and the Verrazano-Narrows bridge with a long view of the Statue of Liberty (if you know where to look) and downtown Manhattan.

Earlier, on Saturday there was a Halloween party at home. Here are Cleopatra and a rather scoundrelly vampire. And some of their cousins and friends in the next photo. I can't believe I missed my favorite holiday of the year.

This year the squirrels have developed a taste for pumpkins. They have rather rabidly eaten their way into two and just started gnawing at the third. Here's Evan inspecting the squirrels' handiwork, like Inspector Clouseau. "Dees ze pimkin 'ave e lisahnze?"

While I was gone the kids had a fabulous time. They kept to some sort of schedule, ate well, and did great at school. Vivian built a model of a house that can withstand winds better and then simulated how mountains are created. Evan is moving along with his reading really well and digging around the house for simple machines. Jo warned me not to "fuck things up" when I got back. Because I'm apparently the reason why the kids don't listen at home and dick around at school :-).

But that was earlier during my absence. When Jo and I spoke before I left Hyderabad for Austin, she said "I can keep them alive till Friday but no promises after that." So when Sunday came and went and I was still nowhere to be found shit started to creep towards the fan. One particular afternoon - I think it was Saturday, Jo told the kids that they were not allowed to talk to her for the rest of the day. Another time, after she had cooked them a nice meal, Vivian insisted that Jo had not really cooked but had just "heated up" the food which lead to some unpleasantness and Jo's refusal to provide them their next meal - they were free to cook it. While I didn't get a hero's welcome or anything, I'd say everyone except Zinnia was glad to see me when I finally sauntered home on Monday evening to a wife and four kids.

I tried to settled in and not "fuck things up". We made it through the week. On Friday evening I packed for Vivian and me to go on an overnight Girl Scouts camping trip - a bunch of Magellan girls from kindergarten through third grade. There was a 100% chance of rain at the Tuckers farm where we had camped over the Memorial Day weekend storm. So I packed a couple of extra things. Still - the pile of stuff at the door was ridiculous. I can go to Denali with all my food in near freezing rainy weather for three days and live out of a sub-25 lb pack while this camping trip was catered. Yes.

It didn't rain. Vivian had a great time. Till it was time for me to leave. See that garment bag at the bottom of the pile of camping stuff. It had my suit and a white shirt and tie. I was to leave the campground at 5pm on Saturday evening, drive 50 miles back to Austin to be Jo's spouse at the Saheli/AFSSA gala and sneak back into the camp by 11pm that night. Vivian hadn't given me the time of day all day till it was time for me to leave. Then she cried and clung. So I told her that I'd take her back to Austin and bring her back in the middle of the night but she'd miss the campfire and the song and dance she had prepared. So she cried some more but decided to stay.

The Saheli gala was a great success in spite of sucky food. The organization got a lot of praises from the community for the amazing work they do and I got Jo a necklace at the live auction. I got back to the campsite in time for a couple of glasses of wine by the campfire. Most kids were fast asleep but not Vivian. I finally got her to bed after midnight. Then a car alarm went off at 3am. Then Vivian's friend woke up crying in the tent next door when she couldn't find Vivian. Then everyone was up by 6:30am. Second night with less than 4 hours of sleep. But luckily someone handed me one of those red Starbucks holiday cups (the coffee tasted less Christian) and a catered breakfast taco and the rest of the morning went off superbly.

We got back home and Vivian stumbled into her bed and passed out. Evan and I biked to Ramsey Park but the fantastic weather had drawn everyone there and it felt like a population explosion was literally in progress. So we quietly withdrew and biked around the neighborhood till my coffee high wore off and we went back home and awoke Vivian and drove to Book People for a Magellan book fair and bought every book in sight and then ate a hearty brunner (can I say that to describe a breakfast-luch-dinner?) at 24 Diner and that was the end of another week at the white wooden house. Oh - and somewhere along the way I shaved my head.

Pony Express

The Pony Express was as disruptive as any modern day start-up. It cut by half the time to send a piece of mail from the east coast to California, and ran from St. Joseph in Missouri to Sacramento. Riders used fresh horses placed in 184 stations along the 1840 mile route to ride at full gallop day and night. It was was so fast that it could only be trumped by the telegraph - which happened just two short years later in 1861.

The distance between JFK airport and Austin is approximately the same as that between St. Jo and Sacramento. If I had left by pony express when I arrived at JFK from Abu Dhabi on Friday morning I would be over a third of the way by now - much faster than Jet Blue. I am typing this on my way to Penn Station in New York by Amtrak Acela after spending Sunday at Alu and Michelle's, hoping to try and make it to Austin today. If all goes well, I will be in JFK in an hour after arriving at Penn, on a airplane three hours after that and in a certain white wooden house before the kids get back from Taekwondo this evening.

Alu's was fun. We drove to north Rhode Island across the vast state yesterday to eat amazing baked goods at a dairy farm bakery. Then we drove back and started putting away wine while sitting around the kitchen table and contemplating dinner, which eventually was really good grilled Norwegian salmon. We ate outside on the deck with candles on a mild (by New England standards, not Texas or Hyderabad) fall evening, chased it down with 10 year old Laphroaig, and chatted. Then we slept a bit and before dawn Michelle drove us to Providence where Alu took a train to Boston and I got on this one.

Here's a photo from last night or maybe a bit earlier.

Almost Back Home

I'm almost back at the white wooden house. It's 4am and I'm sitting in bed in a hotel somewhere in Jamaica, New York eating left over Chinese and blogging and hoping to get on a flight to Austin later today.

I'm not complaining. I hate not seeing Jo and the kids for another whole day. It took Vasco Do Gama 23 months to sail from Portugal around Africa to Calicut. And Columbus about 35 days to get from Spain to what he thought was India but turned out to be modern day Bahamas. The capable pilots of Etihad did that in about a day and the 787 Dreamliner, even in cattle car class, was a good deal more comfortable than the Pinta. And that final hop from New York to Austin - at the speed of the Pony Express, it would take me about 10 days of riding day and night at full gallop.

So after dropping off the kids and Jo at London for their trip back to Austin, I left for India. On that flight I had one of those small world moments. Four year ago when we lived in an apartment in Hyderabad, there was a Hyderabadi man, Asif Mirza, who owned an apartment on the top floor with his English wife. When they visited from abroad, Savitri, our maid, insisted that we meet them because "hamara memsahib" (Jo) is also from "London". The lady sitting next to me on the Abu Dhabi - Hyderabad flight was that English wife. Her husband had died a couple of years ago and she was returning to take care of his property. She recognized me.

I too was in Hyderabad for a similar reason - to take care of my dad's property. But visiting Hyderabad is always fun. I met friends, went to the Secunderabad Club, attended parties where I didn't know the host, and ate more food in ten days than I should eat in a month. On the holiest of the Dusshera days, Sharath, Sahiti and I went to Key's High School in Secunderabad to see the Poojo. Things have gotten grander in four decades but the scene inside was as I remember it as a child. A huge dusty pile of shoes and sandals outside. Bangalis of all ages and sizes dressed up. Drummers working themselves to a frenzy. The sweet smell of incense and burning ghee. And Durga standing on her lion as it shreds Mahisasur, the demon and his alternate form, the poor buffalo, while Durga pierces his heart with one of her ten weapons held in her ten arms. She is a mixture of violent ferocity and divine serenity - the original diva.

Next morning is Bijoy Doshomi, the 10th day - the day for new beginnings. As a child I remember everyone at home getting new clothes. Because we wore uniforms to school, we didn't really need a lot of regular clothes. Often this was the only time my dad got us new clothes - which in the late 70's meant a dress shirt with huge collars and a nice pair of bell bottoms that flared out to completely hide my shoes. This year, Sahiti bought new clothes for Sharath and me. Very nice but not bell bottoms.

On the weekend I went to Delhi. Here we are at Arjun's home where I used to stay in Delhi back when there were no direct international flights to Hyderabad. Coincidentally and not noticed till later, Arjun's photo on the shelf is smiling with us. In the next photo I'm with Surjeet Aunty, Arjun's mother and Simran's grandma. at a Chinese restaurant in the M-Block market where I met the whole family for lunch.

Over an excellent lunch (thanks for a great selection, Shaunak) Guri Uncle asked me very seriously "Arun, are you spiritual?". I thought through my answer rather carefully. I am speaking to a man who lost his only son in a freak cycling accident ten years ago. Is this going to lead to questions about Arjun's spirit? Finally I say guardedly "Guri Uncle, I'm an atheist".

"So you don't believe in God", he replies. I nod.
"But you are still spiritual", he continues.
"There is spirit in beer and vodka and gin" and he points to our drinks.

I should never take him seriously.

I make some progress with my dad's stuff in Hyderabad. While going through some old photos in my free time I found this photo of my dad from his birthday in December 2012. Miguel had shown up one day at home with very short hair. My dad said that he wanted his hair short too. I gave him a close haircut and trimmed back his normally bushy mustache. It was his last birthday.

While I am traveling, Jo and Vivian and Evan are settling back into a normal school week in Austin. Except that they are all in bed by 7pm and awake at 5am. They are in full swing with soccer and Taekwondo and dance and drama and went to the Thinkery for Magellan's Family Fun Day - here's a photo of the Mad Science lady doing something with Vivian and friends.

Crazy is apparently glad to have them back home. Jo sent me a photo of a decapitated mouse at the front door and a mouse head that was puked up later. I won't post the photo here but my wife should become a war photographer.

Can't wait to see all the crazies back at the white wooden house. As soon as Jet Blue gets those ponies saddled.

Saturday

It's our last full day in London. No bacon sandwiches today either. Instead we met Simran outside the Waterloo tube station and walked across the street to a small but amazing Saturday outdoor food market. Pop-up tents and a couple of food trucks in the parking lot of the National Theater. We walked around and the kids got fresh juices - some combination of fruits and mint. Simran got coffee. Jo bought a cronut (a crosaint donut), I bought a large number of very nice cookies, and Vivian talked a vendor out if a bowl of olives for a paltry 30 pence. In the second photo you can see her working through the olives while carrying her "wand".

Simran showed us around Southbank a bit and then we retreated underground to catch a tube to Baker Street. At some point we passed a poster for Kinky Boots and all three of the young ones posed. Backstory - in long escalator rides up and down tube station all over London you see posters and ads for plays and musicals. Vivian saw about a hundred and gravitated towards Kinky Boots. In most posters (though not this one where he's a fuzzy helmeted royal guard) a bobby is portrayed in gray tones supporting thigh high lace-up red glittering boots. Vivian asked why a male policeman was dressed like that. I said "Why not?". And she said "Awkward". But it continued to intrigue her.

We passed the afternoon lazing at my friend's home near Baker Street (the kids veged in front of a TV in another room). Rani made us aloo parathas. Evan wasn't having any of that but Vivian put away a few.

Simran and us spent the evening waiting in line back at Masala Zone near Covent Gardens. After a very good dinner we took a cab back to the hotel and I walked Sinran to her digs. 

Next morning we woke up hours before our usual time and took a cab to Heathrow. I saw Jo and Evan and Vivian off at the Virgin gates and before I arrived to my terminal for my flight to Abu Dhabi Jo had sent me a photo of the kids munching on bacon sandwiches. A little bit later I boarded a cavernous Etihad Airways A380 and arrived in Hyderabd on Monday morning to see Sharath and Sahiti's smiling faces at the airport. By then it was Sunday night in Austin and the kids were fast asleep in their own beds back at the white wooden house and London was only a memory.