My First Lengha

I could not have done a worse job packing for this trip. I'm not sure why I didn't bother to do more research before stuffing my giant suitcases, but for the first time in my life I have under packed. I think I was so consumed with packing things that would be hard to find in India that I lost sight of the basics. Case in point, my Aveda shampoo, Origins face products, and Kroger Brand Natural Peanut Butter all made the trip, but I somehow only brought six shirts and not a single pair of sandals. My sweaty feet serve as a daily reminder of this error and I am sorely missing my cushy Adidas flip flops. 

In my defense, I was simultaneously packing for Miss America, a truly challenging task, not to mention a completely opposite mindset. That being said, I have no one to blame but myself. Alas, I have found a handful of shirts to get me through the next few months, and fortunately for me they do laundry every day. 

Speaking of, laundry here is kind of amusing and mildly embarrassing. The house staff empty every one's hamper daily and wash all the clothes together, then return them the next day. It's so fast, I hardly need more than two pairs of underwear. This brings me to the embarrassing part... All of the staff in the house are male. They see everything I wear, and it kind of creeps me out that they can look at me and know what's under my clothes. Also, when I was sick they opted to leave my clothes on the coffee table so as not to bother me, at which time my two male colleagues sharing this apartment and a handful of visitors caught a glimpse of my private life. Oh, and they iron everything, without exception. I laugh to myself every time I imagining the poor guys navigating around my tiniest of clothing with the tip of the iron. Not only do they iron it to get the wrinkles out (and finish drying it in some cases), but they also iron clothes after they're folded so that they looks neat and crisp. This makes for an excellent presentation, but leaves perma-creases in your clothes.  Of course, at the end of the day, someone else is doing my laundry, and I have come to appreciate both the time savings and my daily chuckle.

I've been doing a fair share of shopping since I got here, mostly to make up for my sub par packing job. Today, however, I was on a mission for clothing to wear to a wedding I'm going to in Jaipur. This isn't just any wedding. This is a four day extravaganza for the daughter of an Indian pharmaceutical magnate, whose known for planning great parties and weddings. My colleague, Saloni, took me shopping for traditional Indian attire and I had an absolute blast. The clothes here are just so beautiful and colorful and sparkly, and everything has matching jewelry. It's like a pageant girl's dream.

We went to two different places and I spent hours trying on all kinds of different patterns and styles. We opted against a sari because they're very difficult to tie properly and I won't have anyone to help me at this wedding. Considering it's a garment made from one long piece of fabric, tying it properly is essential to avoid exposing one's underwear to the world, which is a habit I'm trying to break. Instead I bought a trendy Salwar (tunic and pants kind of thing) and a beautiful traditional lengha (long beaded skirt and short top with a long piece of fabric to drape over it). Several bangles, a pair of earrings, and a necklace later and I'm ready to rock this Rajasthani party. Don't worry, I will take lots of pictures. One of them is bound to end up as my Facebook profile pic, I'm sure. I'm also attending an engagement ceremony next weekend, so you might get a sneak peak at the salwar. 

Remember my last post about things being pretty much the same? The styles may be different here, but a woman's affinity for beautiful clothing knows no geographic boundaries. Saloni and I grew up worlds apart, but through the magic of all things girly, we have formed an instant bond. She's amazing, by the way, and I'm really glad to have made a non-expat friend.

gv