Some glimpses into the wine probe. When we reached Kallstadt it was dead,
there were 5 stalls of sweets, toys and dart and shooting games and a children's ferry wheel in the middle. There was a hall with a white and black banner called "Probe der 100 weine" and there were two security guards outside. Disappointed at the lack of fan fair, we decided to walk further into the vineyards when Vidya and I thought it would be a shame to walk away even without looking in. So we went in to be accousted by two security guards.
"Ausweis bitte". (Identity card, please)
"Oh.. I do not have it - fuhrerschein gehts?" (Will the driving license do?)
They flipped mine to the date of birth and smiled. They looked at Vidya's and the smile turned broader.
We walked in. 12 Euros entry fee but unlimited tasting for 100 wines. Some special ones will cost 1.5 Euros extra (for the Raritein) and the others 2.5 Euros (Eiswein).
We went out to a crowd which was more interested in cake and coffee. We shrugged - let us try on our way back. After the cake and coffee we walked back here. While Parmanu, a non drinker found a colleague to talk to and then went on a long walk in the vineyards, we wine lovers spent our time sampling the different ones. Here are some pictures.
and we did come away with some of them though advised by Parmanu's colleague that we should perhaps come back on May 18-th when some wine cellars open with their Vintage collections - and why not - it gives an additional chance to walk in this lovely village and be a part of the special culture that belongs here.
Turning calendars has a very symbolic meaning for me. Normally over the year, I do not turn the calendar in the beginning of the month. Sometime in the middle of the month I realize that the month is already in its advanced stage and I turn it at that point of time. Beginning of 2009, I turned the calendar - this had an immense effect on me. Again this month, I realized that it was March 1-st and turned the calendar again. Interestingly last March 1-st was a sunny day and so is today.
February has flown by very quickly. I have no idea where it went - it was an activity filled month personally and professionally. What suffered? It was the professional part as usual that takes the backseat. So come last week, I took some resolutions - March will be a quiet month - I am going to take a social holiday. Once a week is the maximum I meet people on weekdays - unless any of these people cannot be met at other times.
In a frenzy, yesterday saw me being the most active on facebook. Contrary to what people think, facebook is not a media I enjoy a lot. I prefer to conduct a lot of my interactions in person rather than over this - it is a good tool to find people and to fix the meetings. However, that is as far as I enjoy. The personal touch can never be replaced. My feeling about Wii and Facebook are the same - you need to have the "real" life activities and virtual interactions should just be a supplement.
So I was happy over February to have some real life interactions and activities. Thursday saw the culmination of the Bollywood efforts that we had over the last month (I could feel my new boss heaving a sigh of relief). Friday, a colleague at work invited us for a fund raising effort for a Tibetan school. Saturday I was off for the Korean dance in the Center for Fine Arts. I was excited - it would be three very different experiences in three days - all Asia related yet, living in Europe and being able to have asian experiences was variety enough for me.
Yet, I also found I need some quiet time for myself - a revelation!
My Ladakh trip had left vivid impressions of monastries and landscape and the difficulties faced by Tibetans always made me wonder why the world closes its eyes to their plight. The "Three cups of Tea" was another one which left generated a feeling of "What am I doing for this world?" feeling - both depicted hardships in the Himalayas though each had a different contextual twist to it. Three cups of Tea traces the evolution of the schools in the Himalayas in Pakistan as well as the uniting of different villages for the cause of education. This school in Tibet seemed to be going through the phase now. The slideshow and the pictures as well as the flags around me reminded me of the trip to Nepal on April 2000. The flags reminded me of the trek in Dhulikel and the pictures reminded me of the route where we had got lost prolonging our 4 hour trek to 6 hours.
The small pagodas of the buddhist temple reminded me of the Namobuddha - our final destination in Dhulikhel where Buddha had fed himself to a starving tigress.
After saying Hello to another girl I knew, a thought struck me "Is this going to be in French?". The compere started in French and I groaned. Now I would need to concentrate. Luckily Rimpoche spoke in broken English. Yet, the feeling of experiencing a completely local event stayed with me. As the calming speech got over, they brought the appetizers - Dim Sum and another one. Later they started with the chants which I had expected would be in Tibetan but were in French. There was something very soothing about the flute and the tibetan flags floating above our head.
The following kept me mesmerized: chants in french of tibetan verses, children's voices floating across as they ran around the hall, the voices of the clanking cutlery as the people ate the appetizer and then the plates were cleared away, the sound of the flute rising in crescendo, the peace of seeing friends hugging each other in greeting (something I really miss as I move from place to place without really getting time to build close relationships - just when I think I have something - something happens to destroy it), and though the pitch of the flute goes awry in between as he takes a higher note, the atmosphere reminds me of a very artistic movie. There was me sitting down there and calmly writing my thoughts down as all these went on as a backdrop - an island in the midst of a very special scene and event with all the sounds just providing me with the background music to reflect on my thoughts.
There was then a Tibetan/French play followed by a cooking class for Tibetan cooking. Surprisingly I did not need too much translation to get the gist of the story.
It was truly a multicultural local experience. Perhaps I should start visiting more "French" events.
------------------------------------------------- I was at the Bozar yesterday to watch Symphonca Princess Bari by "Eun-me Ahn Company". You might remember the opening concert of the "Made in Korea" festival I had attended. This was the closing concert of the same festival. 5 months have flown by and I do not even remember where they have gone. I did not attend many of the events. Yet the ones I attended were of different flavours.
Colour stood out as we entered the hall. Green shining curtain hid the stage. As the dance started, dancers in different fluorescent dresses floated through the stage in different movements. It was only broken by Princess Bari and Eun-me Ahn coming in between. The musicians sat behind a green curtain lit and exposed only at certain times during the show. The way the props blended in with the choreography and the flexibility of the dancers vs the colours and the musicians and the complete contrast and calmness of Eun-me Ahn's dance.
Contemporary dance is not normally my favourite and this time too I felt I did not get completely into the story. It might have helped had there been an introduction to the dance piece just before. Yet the music and the live singing were powerful and moving. It was a fitting end to a wonderfully cultural month.
January 25-th: Attack on women in Mangalore in a pub where they had gone to drink and dance.
"They chased the girls into the street, slapping them, pulling their hair and pushing at least two to the ground. The incident was recorded on CCTV.
Their reason? “We are the custodians of Indian culture,” said Pramod Mutalik, the founder of SRS, who claimed responsibility for the assault. "
In response "Pink Chaddi Campaign" was started. Now there are many counter campaigns which have come up in India against the Pink Chaddi Campaign.
When I joined the group "Pub-going, Loose and Forward Women" on facebook it was just with the intention of celebrating the freedom I have to choose - I choose whether I want to go to a pub or not, I choose my definition of what is loose and what is not and I define what is forward.
Yet, sections of Indian Society - with all its struggle with women coming out of the closet, has chosen to blindly believe in a few who believe that as per Hindu tradition, freedom to choose lies solely with the men. Some women are collecting pink sarees and sindhoor (vermillon married women apply on their forehead) and bindis (the small round tikka applied on the forehead) to send to all the women involved in the "Pink Chaddi" campaign.
I do not think choosing how to live will spoil the Indian culture - many of these women are religious and fulfill many cultural aspects than many who do not drink. I go to the pub, I dance, I choose what to do at each point I have a conflict about whether it fits with my cultural education - yet, I pray daily, I follow some festivals, I light the lamp many days, I will not choose to do anything that destroys the happiness and well being of my family. I will be independent because that is how I believe my culture has taught me to be. Perhaps I do not follow everything that has been drummed into me but then that is what education and experience does and how cultures evolve - and then you know you have to be prepared. We are not still following Sati - why? Is that against the culture now?
Yet, I wonder whether anyone has stopped to think for a minute - the protest began against the violent methods used - I cannot believe that people can openly state that they are custodians of Indian culture (whatever that might be... - certainly violence cannot be part of it) and so they went and beat up women. While many times domestic violence might have been a practise behind close doors and eve-teasing was common and abhorred, it has never been so openly touted and has never gone unpunished as it has now. (It reminds me of an incident early 1990's when an Ethiraj College student was killed when she tried to avoid some eve teasing boys outside the college - the furore at that time was against the perpetuators and not against the protesters).
My question to the Pink Condom and Pink Sarees campaigners who have brought out campaigns against the Pink Chaddi: What if this happens to one of your family when they are out in the streets one dark evening on a street and they get beaten up? Freedom is one of our fundamental rights as a part of our constituition. I think all are entitled to that freedom - it is not just men who have the choice. Women have it too. It is time to grow up and out of the shadows of fanatics.
"The magi, as you know, were wise men–wonderfully wise men–who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi." - O.Henry in "The Gift of the Magi".
Day before yesterday we looked out of our window. It was the normal sight - the white house at the intersection between Lucas-Cranach-Strasse and the small extension to the Lucas-Cranach-Strasse hiding behind a hedge. The cars on the street were taking their vacation as well.
Suddenly out of our neighbour's house came a bunch - 3 of them were dressed in gold and one held a huge pole with a golden star on it. Each of the three had a crown. The mother gave a peck on the cheek of the boy who was a toddler 8 years back. The toddler, who had watched other boys in the same attire passby their house and our house, was now moving out in the same role.
Every Year a group of three boys dressed as the three kings and their two older guardians normally just passed by our building. So this year too we stood at the window taking pictures as is the norm each year we see them. As they passed our window we went back to our normal activities.
I had studied in Christian schools. When I studied in St. Hilda's School in Ooty, we used to have a Christmas play. Each of these plays used to have the three Magi. I never knew them as "Magi" in those days. I thought of them as "Three Kings" and this ritual here every year reminds me of the hymn:
We three kings of Orient are Bearing gifts we traverse afar Field and fountain, moor and mountain Following yonder star
O Star of wonder, star of night Star with royal beauty bright Westward leading, still proceeding Guide us to thy Perfect Light
These little Magi whom I see on the streets of Walldorf always remind me of those days. They remind me of the play "Little Star of Bethlehem" in which my sister played the Little Star. They also remind me of a play that stands out from my days in Ooty - a play that I later studied as a part of my final year exams in ICSE - "The Gift of the Magi".
So with all these thoughts in mind, I was going about my activities when suddenly the bell rang. We opened the door and there stood the Magi. Each of them had a bag. The boy from the house next door had a biscuit tin in his hand.
"Hallo, Guten Tag".
They asked us whether we are interested. Parmanu said yes. Each King said a verse in German. I struggled to understand. One smiled brightly while the other frowned to try to remember their lines. Frau. J stood at her door - watching over us - I suppose she knew we would need some guidance and wanted to see our reaction. After the first round, they went through another round of saying a new verse. At the end of it, they said they were making collections which they would send to a charity in a developing country. We were unsure what we should do. Was it gifts for the boys or ... ?
"Was mussen wir geben?" - (What should we give?) - we asked - unsure of the custom, unsure of the language.
"Geld" - the 2 older children who were the guides explained.
So they were not Magi for us - they were going to be Magi for children somewhere.
Parmanu went in to find some. In this age of plastic, it is not easy to find notes.
"Wir haben nur weiße Kreide" - the older boy said holding up a chalk in his hand. "Sie haben weiß Tür". (We have only white chalk and you have a white door... Can we put up a black sticker as we have done in Frau. J's place - they asked pointing to the sticker".
"Sure" - I replied in English.
While they took out the sticker, we gave them some money for their collection. They climbed the stairs, in their flowing golden robes, to the apartments above.
It is years since I watched a beautiful Kathak piece. This morning I was listening to Zakir Hussain/ Alla Rakha Jugalbandi when I felt like watching a Kathak Piece. Birju Maharaj Ji never disappoints. If anyone knows how I can get DVDs of his performances please let me know.
I ended with an interview with him when he was still quite young. Besides him, his shishya has also danced beautifully - I really envy people living back in India.
Last few days I have been trying to blog. It is not that I lack topics for inspiration but my head refuses to give me more than inspiration - it refuses to think. So I was happy when Claire sent me this - I immediately forwarded it to a few friends in my company's helpdesk.
But then finding the appropriate category was the problem... Should I put it it under "Books", "Stories", "Religion" ... "Weblogs"... and I finally decided to put it under Tradition and Culture.
A couple of weeks back I was looking through some "Kaikottikali" videos and wishing I could be far off in Kerala to celebrate. When I looked at the pictures of the celebration of Onam in the temple my parents frequent in the US, for the first time I wanted to shift to US (well... for this it would be better to move to my home town - right?). In anycase I am storing here two links I want to remember always. There is a lip sync problem with the video so it is better to close your eyes and listen.
- here is Kuttanaadan Punchayilley in American Malayalam.
Today is my new year day... normally on this day I would wear the Kerala Saree (since I do not know how to wear Set Mundu properly yet) and keep the Kani every year without fail. Half the things required for the Kani were in Germany and so I had to make do with improvisations. Nevertheless, lighting the lamp and looking at the sparse place in front of the Gods, I wondered about how the year was going to be. It is anyway many years since I kept Konna Poo having lived outside Kerala most of my life.
In the spirit of Vishu, I hope it is going to be a happier year with people forgiving me for all the mess I made in their lives, me forgiving myself for all the mess I made in my life, with broken relationships getting mended (I am a people person I cannot stand it when a relationship goes from good to ok, ok to bad, bad to worse - it bothers me like crazy) even though the moment it went bad cannot be rolled back.
I also hope that this year will bring a good worklife balance, I will restart activities which I had stopped over the last year and I will find an organization to work with children.
It is good to have many times over the year to start New Year resolutions, as a friend mentioned in her blog.
