This weekend, I often felt as if I was having a typical weekend. Friday at the office was like a Friday in many workplaces I’ve experienced in the past: goofy, filled with laughter, and lightly sprinkled with anticipation for two days off. We belatedly celebrated the birthday of Mr. C. Arumugam (fondly known as Mr. A or Boss), our printer and man who oversees and is the energy behind our beautiful handmade books. We surprised him with cake, and Nina wrote him an impromptu poem and made him a crown that bore more than a slight resemblance to a Burger King hat. It felt good to bestow such love on the man who more than anyone else has been responsible for the ease of my transition here in Chennai. Mr. A helps me with my South Indian cooking almost every day – he gives me tips whenever I bring in a dish, he tells me the best stores to get local ingredients, and he even came over to teach the three interns how to make dosas. He helps us fix broken appliances, he came to see a silly Tamil film with us, and we share our various music tastes with one another. He has also one of the most infectious laughs…so Happy Birthday, Mr. A! 
This Saturday was a particularly important day for many Hindus, as it marked the culmination of the nine-day festival Navratri. Saturday was a special puja (religious ceremony/celebration) day in honour of Saraswati and Lakshmi, the goddesses of wealth and knowledge. Many people, Hindu and non-Hindu alike, give thanks and bestow blessings upon the tools of their trade, the means and ends of their successes, and the possessions that aid in obtaining knowledge. In other words, cars, computers, hammers, dump trucks, cows, bicycles, motorcycles, auto rickshaws, storefronts, restaurants, elevators, and gas pumps were all decorated with banana tree leaves, smashed pumpkins, and a splattering of sandalwood paste and red tikka powder. I spent Saturday morning riding my bike around our neighbourhood, visiting the Lakshmi temple, enjoying the music blaring out of various auto rickshaw speakers, and purchasing fruit at the many impromptu markets and stands that sprang up all over the city.
In the afternoon, Ari and I ventured northwest into the Chetpet neighbourhood of Chennai, where we followed a fellow ex-pat’s tip (many thanks, Stacey!) and went to French Loaf. Sweet HEAVEN! Whole grain breads with walnuts and sesame seeds! Baguettes and sandwich rolls! Amazing lattes! Chocolate chip cookies that taste just as they should, with the sugar granules crunching between your teeth and the sweet mixture of flour and shortening and baking powder and love all softening in a glass of milk before you take a bite of the perfection. Needless to say, we spent quite a long time enjoying the place. You can make your own sandwiches and they have cold cuts! For those of you who take such things for granted, please note that I had a turkey breast sandwich for the first time since I’ve been in India. Thinly sliced, fresh deli meats are quite impossible to obtain, and so French Loaf is a goldmine.
Saturday evening was spent in southern Chennai at a pasta and mohito party (fresh produce makes such gatherings all the more delicious), with good company and the ocean breeze to top off the night. Sunday Ari and I again ventured north, this time to Choolaimedu, for a potluck brunch with friends we’ve met through facebook and six degrees of separation. It was a team effort, and I’ve never ever been so grateful for mixed veg scramble, banana shakes, french toast, hashbrowns, fruit salad, and americanos. We even had syrup for the french toast (98% corn syrup, 2% maple syrup)! Nicely done, kids. Nicely done.
2 comments:
It looks like you and Mr. A were standing there for a while with those knives waiting for someone to take that picture. Also, how many publishers does it take to cut a cake? BADUMCHING!
It IS a nose ring!
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