When not busy getting married, I write a popular video series called Love U. Check out some of my favorite episodes.
How to Survive a LDR (Long Distance Relationship)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fr-fgbPgWnw
How to Avoid Breaking Up the Wrong Way
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K7P-0ObJVnQ
How to Flirt Like A Pro
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wia9isERKIg
How to Translate an Online Dating Profile
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j5bAs6OaLBA
How to Train Your Man
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PJWnBxbN1dg
How to Catch a Cheater
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j5bAs6OaLBA
Tuesday 29 July 2008
Monday 21 July 2008
Speaking Different Languages
Preparing for my 800+ Indian wedding in London involves helping my friends and family who will be traveling across the Atlantic for the celebration. For some, this is their first trip overseas. For all, it is their first Indian wedding. I've tracked travel itineraries, I've booked hotel rooms, and I've arranged for airport transfers and entertainment. I've also visited the different hotels people will be staying in and dropped off homemade welcome boxes. The boxes are simple. They include maps, itineraries & wedding details along with a Big Ben magnet and British sweets. I've even included a short tutorial on How to Speak Gujarati. It has four simple sayings I thought the Americans would appreciate knowing when they meet my husband's side of the family. The phrases are simple and the Indians will be surprised to hear the Americans declare, "This is too spicy!" in their mother tongue. I picture the Americans studying the phrases appreciately while relaxing in their hotel between episodes of Doctor Who and Jeeves & Wooster.
I now think that the Americans are only eating the sweets.
Yesterday, my sister, A, and friend, J, were visiting me in my Notting Hill flat. As we indulged in at-home manicures I asked how their Gujarati was coming along. They both stared at me blankly, but then did admit to enjoying the Mars bars.
"At the wedding ceremony you are literally going to be greeting hundreds of people." They greeted me with silence. I took this as an invitation to carry on, "It wouldn't hurt to learn 'How are you'."
"Sure," my sister replied picking at her cuticle with more enthusiasm than she was mustering for my lingustics lesson. J nodded.
"Ok," I began,"When you ask 'how are you?' you say 'kem che?'."
Suddenly, my sister was excited, "Kim Chay? I think I know her!"
"What? No, you don't. It's not a person. It's a saying."
"No, it's a person," she insisted.
"No. It isn't"
"And I work with her."
"That may well be," I was getting frustrated, "but this is kem che and it means how are you."
"Fine," A relented, "but she'll be pretty amused to hear about this."
"Alright, just listen now will you?" I continued the lesson, "When someone says kem che to you, you want to respond 'I'm fine' which is saru che."
"Sara Chay!" A shrieked, "I know her too!"
I turned to my friend J who is Korean and a doctor. She is serious and responsible. "Can you believe this?"
"No," J replied blowing on a nail, "I think I'm related to her."
I now think that the Americans are only eating the sweets.
Yesterday, my sister, A, and friend, J, were visiting me in my Notting Hill flat. As we indulged in at-home manicures I asked how their Gujarati was coming along. They both stared at me blankly, but then did admit to enjoying the Mars bars.
"At the wedding ceremony you are literally going to be greeting hundreds of people." They greeted me with silence. I took this as an invitation to carry on, "It wouldn't hurt to learn 'How are you'."
"Sure," my sister replied picking at her cuticle with more enthusiasm than she was mustering for my lingustics lesson. J nodded.
"Ok," I began,"When you ask 'how are you?' you say 'kem che?'."
Suddenly, my sister was excited, "Kim Chay? I think I know her!"
"What? No, you don't. It's not a person. It's a saying."
"No, it's a person," she insisted.
"No. It isn't"
"And I work with her."
"That may well be," I was getting frustrated, "but this is kem che and it means how are you."
"Fine," A relented, "but she'll be pretty amused to hear about this."
"Alright, just listen now will you?" I continued the lesson, "When someone says kem che to you, you want to respond 'I'm fine' which is saru che."
"Sara Chay!" A shrieked, "I know her too!"
I turned to my friend J who is Korean and a doctor. She is serious and responsible. "Can you believe this?"
"No," J replied blowing on a nail, "I think I'm related to her."
Thursday 17 July 2008
Hula Hair
I'm supposed to prep my faux locks myself. I don't remember the stylist telling me this. I strongly feel she didn't because I can't imagine I would have agreed to do it. "Prepping" involves me using a needle and thread and sewing individual clips into the hair seam. But first, I must measure my head and cut the hair accordingly. It's quite a lot of effort for something I've been against from the start. With the help of my mother, we removed the hair from the package. To our surprise, it looked more like so
mething we'd find in Waikiki than against my temple.
mething we'd find in Waikiki than against my temple.Wednesday 16 July 2008
Hairy Situations
My husband and I were married in a beautiful ceremony in the US. But one wedding wasn't good enough for us. We are having a second ceremony in London to celebrate his Indian heritage. Both ceremonies join us as husband and wife, but they couldn't be more different. I am plagued by normal feelings of self doubt when it comes to our Jain ceremony. Will I understand the mahraj? Will I perform the blessings correctly? Will I successfully prevent my sari from slipping off? One worry I didn't realize I should have is the inadequacy of my hair. I'd been letting it grow for the past year, but when I had a "consultation" with the my stylist she told me it would not do. I was to visit the hair store on Turnpike Lane for fake hair. I travelled to said shop and told them I needed fake hair. They tried to sell me a wig. I insisted that this would be an overabundance of fake hair. We settled on artificial hair extensions. They are wrapped in plastic and a very somber looking black woman stares out from the package. I was assured they will blend in with my underperforming real hair and, once styled, no one will be any the wiser to my artificial coiffe.
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