Boston, you’re my home

If you want a rehash of the tragic events of last week in Boston, from the Marathon bombing to the capture of Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, go elsewhere. I can’t do it. Every conversation I’ve had for days has gone “Why? I don’t get it. It just doesn’t make sense” before we start rehashing it again, trying to make sense of something that will likely never make sense to me.

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As I try to unpack the roller coaster of emotion that this past week has brought, I decided that what I want to do today is share the moments that buoyed me, made me laugh through the tears, and made me wicked proud to be a Bostonian.

The Touching

When people learned that there were many stranded runners and hotel guests who couldn’t get back into their hotels, someone started a googledocs spreadsheet to create a database of people willing to open their homes. Within 20 minutes, there were over 1,000 entries. Within 24, over 5,000. More here.

Screen Shot 2013-04-22 at 10.23.27 PMsource-@callyd86 via the article linked below

The London Marathon paid tribute to Boston in a number of ways, including passing out black ribbons to every runner,and a moment of silence.  Further, the London Marathon donated 2£ for every runner who finished to The One Fund Boston, amounting to US 100k. For more, read this article.

Screen Shot 2013-04-22 at 10.46.35 PMMIT’s Green Building, the tallest building in Cambridge, MA (21 stories, 300 feet tall) used its windows to pay tribute. On Monday, they lit the windows to resemble the US Flag. On April 20th, they lit it in a black window to pay tribute to the fallen MIT police officer, Sean Collier. source.

Screen Shot 2013-04-22 at 10.56.10 PMDunkin’ Donuts (invented in Quincy, MA-just south of Boston)  gave free coffee and donuts to law enforcement and first responders during the lockdown. By the time the lockdown happened, most of the morning employees were already at work, or at the 24 hour locations.  more here

Screen Shot 2013-04-22 at 11.06.42 PMA Brookline Police Officer brought milk to a family with young children in Watertown during the lockdown.

The Funny

Comedian and Faux-Journalist Stephen Colbert’s funny and moving tribute to Boston during the open of his April 16th show-transcript in case the video is geo-blocked.

Look, before we begin, I just want to take a moment to talk about the attack in Boston yesterday. Obviously our thoughts and our prayers are with everybody there. And as the President said, we don’t know who did this, but they will be found and they will be brought to justice.

But whoever did this, obviously did not know shit about the people of Boston—because nothing these terrorists do is going to shake them. For Pete’s sake, Boston was founded by the Pilgrims, a people so tough they had to buckle their goddamn hats on. It is the cradle of the American Revolution—a city that withstood an 86-year losing streak; a city that made it through the Big Dig, a construction project that backed up traffic for 16 years! There are commuters just getting home now. Even their bands are tough. It’s the hometown of Aerosmith who, in their fifth decade, are still going strong. Even Steven Tyler looks fantastic— for a 73-year-old woman.

But here’s what these cowards really don’t get: They attacked the Boston Marathon, an event celebrating people who run 26 miles – on their day off until their nipples are raw – for fun. And they have been holding it in Boston since 1897. And do you know how tough you have to be to run in a wale-bone corset? And when those bombs went off there were runners, who, after finishing a marathon, kept running for another two miles to the hospital to donate blood.

So, here’s what I know: These maniacs may have tried to make life bad for the people of Boston, but all they could ever do, is show just how good those people are.

Now. This is The Colbert Report.

Screen Shot 2013-04-22 at 11.20.22 PMReason #13-Someone lovingly puts winter scarves on the bronze duck statues from Make Way for Ducklings

The Buzzfeed “29 Reasons to Love Boston” is truly a beautiful and hilarious love letter to Boston.

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What happens when you have a one-night stand, only to wake up in a locked down city?  If you’re Dan McCarthy, you write about it.

And it was then when I realized I had a problem. The whole city was locked down. Taxis were suspended. Public transit shuttered. Cops were going house to house. Armored vehicles were roaming the streets. No one could go out. You weren’t even supposed to open the door unless it was for a cop.

With a deadline to hit and a cell phone running on 8% battery, it quickly became clear that my plan to quietly slip out and return home to fulfill my work obligations would be a near impossible feat. I was trapped. And what was meant to be a discreet exit was now an agonizingly gratuitous small-scale walk of shame across the apartment from the bedroom to the bathroom. I paused in the living room to offer up an uncomfortable morning salutation to the roommate, who sat on the couch wearing a robe and a distinct “who the hell is this guy?” look on her face. Yup.

Screen Shot 2013-04-22 at 11.24.55 PMThis became a thing. I may need to buy this as a keychain at the very least.

Sweet Caroline

There have been a number of “Sweet Caroline” tributes or references you may have seen on my twitter/fb/etc page and wondered “what the hell is with Boston and this freaking song?” It’s a big enough deal that it gets its own category, that’s what.

To say that Boston is a sports town is an understatement. The B of the Boston Red Sox logo has become a symbol of the city itself.  Fans of the baseball team are referred to as “Red Sox Nation.” If Red Sox Nation had a national anthem, it would be “Sweet Caroline.”  For over 10 years, the song has been played during the 7th inning stretch at every single last home game since 2002 (and I attended games before that when we sang it). source  It is a song that Boston has embraced as our own.

Many fellow sports teams, baseball and other played Sweet Caroline to honor/respond to the Boston Tragedy. But when the New York Yankees did so, I burst into tears.

Boston and New York have a bit of a rivalry going, most frequently expressed via baseball.  We do major trash talking of one another (for example, just as I can buy a baby a “Red Sox Nation” bib, I can also get a “Yankees Drool” bib-one of the milder examples I could share). Amongst one group of my friends there was/is a discussion thread devoted to Sox/Yankees trash talking-clocking in a 100+ pages last I checked. So when the Yankees–our bitter rival, played it in tribute (complete with our “bum, bum, bum” and “so good so goo so good” additions, a Fenway tradition)–well, I still can’t get through the following video without crying. The Boston/NYC relationship is best expressed as a contentious sibling relationship–we trash talk, mock and otherwise insult one another constantly. But we stand together when tragedy strikes.

On Saturday, April 20th, after Dzhokhar Tsarnaev’s arrest on Friday, Neil Diamond boarded a 4:30 am flight to Boston.  He showed up 40 minutes before game time at Fenway and offered to sing live in tribute. Below you’ll see what a Boston crowd at Fenway can do with our anthem.  Not Neil’s best performance, but you can hear him getting understandably choked up at various points. Afterward, the crowd starts chanting “thank you, thank you, thank you”

That same game marked the return of one of our most beloved players, David Ortiz after an injury that took him out of commission last August.  Ortiz is lovingly known in Boston as “Big Papi,” and he’s a colorful local personality.

Designated hitter David Ortiz said, ‘this is our f*cking city’ after a memorial video showing the past few days, played on the big screen.Ortiz said, ”This jersey that we wear today, it doesn’t say Red Sox. It says Boston…’We want to thank you, Mayor Menino, Governor Patrick, the whole police department for the great job they did this past week. This is our f*cking city, and nobody is going to dictate our freedom. Stay strong.”

The Red Sox wore crisp white uniforms that simply read ‘Boston,’ with a ‘B Strong’ logo. The team said their uniforms would be autographed and auctioned to raise money for the One Fund Boston charity established to help the victims. http://onefundboston.org/

Law enforcement and first responders later walked onto the field and formed a line in front of the Red Sox dugout.

Moments of silence were then held for Marathon victims, eight-year-old Martin Richard, Krystle Campbell and Lu Lingzi and MIT police officer Sean Collier, who was killed Thursday night in a shootout between the Tsarnaev brothers. source

And finally….

Of every image that went viral, I think the following was the one I saw the most.

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Boston is not unique in tragedy. Right now China has suffered a major earthquake, people live in fear of far scarier events daily in other parts of the world, and there is so much wrong we need to right. But even after tragedy struck this close to home, I still believe that the vast majority of people on this planet are good people. I believe that we most of us leave the world a little better than we found it each day, even if it’s a simple compliment that may have made someone’s day and not an act of heroism.  Do not lose faith in humanity.  There are always people who are helping.

I have no words

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There are plenty of places where you can follow the news updates about the tragedy of the Boston Marathon.  I can only tell you that this is a tragedy that hits incredibly close to home for me.

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Between 1997 when I began working at the Westin hotel (tower in the left side of this picture) around the corner from the Marathon Finish line (approximately just after the bus on the far right on Boylston Street) and 2002 when I moved to NYC for grad school, I was in this part of Boston either daily or weekly.  But between 2002 and today, whenever I’m in Boston, I almost always pass through this part-one of my closest friends lives 4 blocks away from where the explosions occurred (yes, he’s safe-he was the first person I reached out to, as are all of our friends and family), some of my favorite restaurants and shops are in this area, and it is one of the parts of Boston I consider home.

new cover photo

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While I do consider Singapore home, my heart belongs to Boston.

And my heart weeps.

A (Vegas) Indian Wedding–The Reception

So this will be the last of the wedding related posts, although I may eventually do more about Vegas.  If you missed any of the previous ones, they were

Pictures of the girls from the various wedding events

A (Vegas) Indian Wedding

So, as I noted in the post about the wedding, we missed the very end of the ceremony because the kids had gotten too fidgety.  We ended up in the hallway we’d danced through earlier with plenty of other kids and parents.  Ellie made a friend with an adorable little boy. His mom and I joked about arranging them/everyone reuniting at the hotel in 20/25 years for their wedding.

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After all the guests had filtered out to the hall and we were waiting for the banquet hall to open, I took some photos and hung out with family.  I loved the flowers used throughout the wedding, but these were among my favorites.  There was one on every table in the hall.

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I made sure to get a few photos with family members.  Here I am with Ravi, and then with his cousin (and the Groom’s sister) Deva.

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Ellie had spent a lot of the wedding days hanging out with her new best pal/second cousin R (Deva’s daughter).  R is about a year younger than Ellie (a few weeks away from age 3, and Ellie is a few weeks past 4 in these photos).

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They handed out roses to all the female guests.  Ellie made sure to get two and ran one of them over to R.  She and R showed us the roses and then promptly began to sword fight with them.

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We were let into the banquet hall, which again had gorgeous flowers. The picture below is the bride and groom’s table.

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The cake was on display

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Once everyone was seated, Adi and Pooja entered.

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Fairly early in the event, they cut the cake.  They invited R up to cut it with them.  Ellie decided this meant she should be part of it, too and I would’ve brought her back to our table, but Adi and Pooja very sweetly included her.  The girls helped them cut the cake.

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They then fed each other and gave bites to various family members, including Elanor.

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We got to have some cake and hear a few of the speeches before the girls got cranky and needed to go back to the hotel to go to bed.

It was such a wonderful event and I was really glad to be a part of it.

If you want to see all my wedding photos, the album here (please let me know if you have any issues-I’ve been meaning to upload to flickr as well-the link is to a facebook album, but the photos are public-which means you should see them even without an FB account).

A Vegas (Indian) Wedding-The Wedding

On the wedding day, the bride’s party assembled in one part of the Mandarin Oriental, while the groom’s family assembled in the elevator lobby that went directly to the function space (they have another lobby which is the main lobby–it’s a very strange set-up–this one is isolated from the rest of the hotel specifically so that people can head to the function area without going through the hotel).

There’s a very interesting Gujarati wedding tradition called the Baraat.  The first part of the wedding is that the groom keeps the bride’s family waiting.  While we were waiting in the dedicated lift lobby, some of the women began to sing traditional songs.  In the past, the Baraat was the procession from the groom’s house to that of the bride, and was meant to be long and loud as possible.  I don’t speak Gujarati, and neither does Ravi, so I can’t translate what the song is about.

We eventually took the lift to the third floor, where the function space was.  But the Baraat wasn’t quite over yet.  First there was a lot of dancing, and taking our time to inch along the hall.  Ravi used the baby as an excuse not to dance, and Ellie was a bit overwhelmed, so I danced for all of us.  I can’t really dance, so I mostly just tried my best to mimic what everyone else was doing.

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Eventually, though, we reached a gate, where Adi (as I understand it) was greeted by Pooja’s family.  We entered the room where the ceremony would take place and Adi was seated.  The priest spoke in both Gujarati (or Hindi?) and English.  Then they put up a curtain so that Adi couldn’t see the bride enter.  Pooja entered under a canopy.

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Then she was seated, the curtain still up between them.  The priest spoke for a while and then the curtain was dropped.

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The next big traditional thing that they did is that the bride has to put a garland around the groom’s neck.  But it is the job of the groom’s friends to lift him out the way, so it took a number of tries.  In the picture below, you can see Adi’s friends lifting him out of the way as he avoids the garland yet again.

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I think it was about this point that Rhi got hungry.  So I excused myself and asked the staff to find a place for me to breastfeed.  I can confidently say that in over a year of breastfeeding, trying to do so while wearing a chanya choli was the biggest challenge I faced, both in terms of just getting to the *ahem* equipment, and then trying to get dressed again (and even so, had to ask my mother in law to help me fix the drape afterward).

When I arrived back at the wedding, there was a lot happening with the fire.

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I have to admit, of all the Gujarati traditions, the fire related ones were the ones I’d wanted to do the most at my own wedding.  Ravi had said a firm no, so this was my first time seeing them in person.  The picture below is one of my favorites from the wedding.

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After that was the seven (?) steps around the fire.  I got to go up to the mat where they were and participate in throwing carnation petals at them as they passed us (which you see flying through the air in the next shot).

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There was a bit where Adi put Pooja’s big toe on a number of bundles, each representing a promise, but I was a bit lost as to what was fully going on.  There was a very sweet unscripted moment when one of the young guests ran up to Pooja to give her flowers.

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I missed the final bit of the wedding as my girls were both fussy.  So the entire family (my inlaws, Ravi, myself and the girls ened up out in the hallway…along with the majority of the other young guests/families).

The thing that’s a bit odd (from an American perspective) about Indian wedding is that it is considered totally fine to step out and wander back in, and is even expected to a certain extent.

But I had great fun, and would love to attend another.  I know that in India they are far longer than 3 days.  When we visited in 2006, I got to attend a Garba party where the women were dancing with sticks.  Adi’s younger sister had wedding related events for more than two weeks!

A Vegas (Indian) Wedding-Part 1, Pre-wedding events

A while back, I posted some photos of the girls from the various wedding events that took us to Las Vegas.  I had meant to do another post about the wedding, but never got around to it.

We were in Vegas for the wedding of Ravi’s first cousin, A.  It was a three day event held at Aria and the Mandarin Oriental (which is next door to Aria).

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On the first night, there was a dinner followed by The Cirque Du Soleil show, Zarkana.  To liven things up, they hired two showgirls to come and pose so that guests could have pictures taken with them.  We brought the girls to dinner, but I had to leave with them shortly thereafter as we had a babysitter coming.  I needed to run through everything with the sitter before heading back to catch the show.

I have a terrible confession to make.  I missed a chunk of the show because it was dark and we were still incredibly jetlagged…and I fell asleep.  My father in law stayed awake and gave it rave review.  I loved what I saw, but I’m not actually qualified to write a review.

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view from the 26th floor

On the second night, there was the sangeet and mendhi party.  It was held at a bar on the 26th floor of the Mandarin Oriental (they’d rented it out so that we could all bring the kids and such).  I sent the girls over with my inlaws and then spent far too much time trying to get my sari on correctly.  Had I thought about it, I should’ve asked any of the women there to help me and they could’ve saved me SO much time.  But because I’d successfully done my own sari once, I was convinced I could do it again and I lost track of time trying to follow the direction in this video to do a Gujarati drape.

Screen Shot 2013-01-20 at 5.55.16 PMWhile I was getting ready, Ellie was getting mendhi.  She was exhausted (as you can see in this photo) and was passed out on a couch when I got there, although she did wake up a bit later.

IMG_6729Rhi, on the other hand, was all party party party.  Here she is with Ravi’s Uncle (and the groom’s dad).

IMG_6732There was singing and dancing.  I got danced a bit, but mostly got my own mendhi done and took photos.

Visiting Vegas with Kids

I have two new blog posts up on White as Milk about our time in Vegas

General thoughts on what to do in Vegas with Kids

What to do with kid in Vegas (hotel by hotel guide)

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Vegas Highlights

There’s an American cable channel called “The Travel Channel.”  Many of my American friends know I had an unhealthy relationship with this channel for a number of years.  As a broke college student/grad student/student teacher/teacher I had few resources with which to travel.  So I did my traveling online and on television.  I’m also a sucker for learning how things work, and am easily transfixed by shows that talk about the secret underground passages in Disney allowing cast members to show up where they’re supposed to be rather than wander aimlessly or that detail the intricate workings of the Bellagio fountain.  The Travel Channel often does dedicated weeks to places like Vegas.  As a result, I’d spent hours thinking about what my first trip to Vegas might be like.

I never pictured taking a one year old and a four year old with me.

IMG_6733A random Elmo of many Elmos trolling Las Vegas Boulevard suckering parents like myself out of money for photo ops with our children.

However, while my trip involved a few more random encounters with Elmo and Hello Kitty and fewer strip clubs and drinking than I pictured, I absolutely loved it.  Vegas is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.  It’s a playground that lets you pretend you’re in Venice in the morning and Paris in the afternoon.

We went to Vegas for a cousin’s wedding on Ravi’s side of the family the last week of November 2012.  The wedding was 3 days, and we stayed a week.

IMG_6660Statue and Xmas Tree at Aria

We stayed at Aria, a hotel connected to a mall called Crystal’s.  I was a bit saddened to discover that this meant I was not entitled to freebies from the Harry Winston shop there (j/k).  It’s a large property on The Strip (Las Vegas Boulevard) next to Bellagio.

I felt like we had a reasonable amount of time to do some exploring.  We were never bored, and we never ran out of things to do, even with the girls.

IMG_7149Holiday floral arrange in the foreground, Fiori Di Como in the background

For me, the highlights included seeing the Chihuly sculpture that takes up a vast part of the Bellagio lobby’s ceiling, Fiori Di Como.  I adore blown glass, and I’ve seen a number of shows that talk about this sculpture, so I was thrilled to my toes to see it in person.  It is extraordinary, and no words of mine can do it justice.

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It’s a river of chocolate. A 27 foot tall chocolate river.  Need I say more?

I fell in love with the dancing fountains at Bellagio.

I was, in fact, so transfixed by them that I made one of the dumbest decisions of the past few years.  My purse was in the basket of my stroller, but I knew I wouldn’t be vigilant during the show.  So I put the purse on the ground and put my foot on the strap.  I was so enchanted by the four minute show set to “Viva Las Vegas” by Elvis that afterwards I’d totally forgotten about the purse (watch the video clip-it was awesome).  I walked away and didn’t realize it for a good 5-10 minutes.  OF COURSE by the time we’d run back, the purse was gone.

This would’ve sucked under most circumstances.  What made it something of a crisis was that my passport and Ravi’s passport along with my Singaporean foreign identification card and the girl’s fin cards were all in my purse as well as the usual suspects of cash and credit cards.  Ravi and I couldn’t leave the US without our passports, and replacing the Singaporean ID was going to be a hassle (one that is finally getting sorted this week–with the holidays, it took MOM a long time to do the paperwork on their end).

All is well that ends well-we experienced no credit card fraud, there was very little cash total in the purse, and getting the passports replaced was a pain only in that it required a very long in person visit with a passport agency in LA (topic for another day).

To return to my original point, though.  Bellagio’s Fountains.  Could have happily watched them for hours on end.  If Ravi ever surprised me with a room at Bellagio overlooking the fountains, I would be a very happy woman.  I’d also be a very boring travel partner as I’d want to watch the fountains all night once they shift to an every 15 minutes format.

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Elanor, Amit (my FIL) and I rode the gondolas at the Venetian resort, and were serenaded by the gondolier.  Not as good as Venice, but fun nonetheless.  Walking through the Grand Canal Shops was amazing–they have painted it (including the ceiling) to make it feel like you’re wandering Venice.  There are performers throughout.  It was a great experience.

IMG_7025Ellie poses with a fountain outside Caesar’s Palace

Caesar’s Palace was good fun, although next time I’d love to see the “Fall of Atlantis” show.  However, as we were walking through, we met Marc Antony, Caesar and Cleopatra.

IMG_6946Rhi smiling at her Dadi (my MIL)

Rhi was enthralled by all the bright lights.  She clapped, she laughed, she smiled, she shrieked.  What can I say?  She’s a happy kid.

IMG_6880Her pose, not my suggestion

What made Ellie happiest of all, though, was all the holiday decorations.  It didn’t matter if it was the first or fifteenth tree that day, we still heard a gasp and a shriek of “CHRISTMAS TREE!!!!”

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We got a sitter and saw Peepshow one night.  Highly recommended for burlesque fans.  For my fellow “Amazing Race” fans, Chippendales was advertising the hell out of the fact that James and Jaymes were performing–no I didn’t go, and yes, I regret that choice now.

If you want to see more photos of our trip, I’ve left the album public on my personal facebook page here.

What do they look like?

“What does she look like?”

The police officer meant my daughter’s race.  She looked up at me, exasperated by my lack of response to her question.  I hadn’t responded as I hadn’t been blindsided by this sort of casual racism in years.  I needed a minute to collect myself, to process what she had just asked me.

Let me back up.  Through an act of utter stupidity for which I bear all responsibility, someone had helped themselves to my purse in Las Vegas.  I’d set it down to watch the Dancing Fountains in front of The Bellagio Hotel.  Distracted after the show, I’d walked away from it, and had not realized I’d done so for 5+ minutes.  Naturally, when I went back, it was gone.  Inside the purse was my wallet (which had my Singaporean ID, the girl’s SG IDs, credit cards, and some cash) and Ravi’s and my passports.

IMG_6910Possibly my favorite thing in Vegas, but all in all, I’d prefer to have not been so mesmerized that I forgot my purse.

To make the process of passport and identification replacement smooth, I went down to the Las Vegas police station to file a report.  I had no expectation of ever seeing my wallet again, the credit cards were already canceled, and the passports reported missing with the appropriate authorities (and an appointment to get emergency passport replacement already made).  But I knew that dealing with red tape would go far smoother if I filed the report and could show it to the proper Passport Agency and Singaporean authorities.

The process of filing the report was routine, even boring, especially as I knew I was only doing so for paperwork purposes.  We reviewed the missing items.  As we were all “victims,” I had to provide each of our name, date of birth, height, hair color, eye color, weight, and race.  This was a fairly straightforward process for myself (white/caucasian), and Ravi (although I had to clarify I meant Indian as in India, and then explain that yes, Indians are Asian by US race classifications).  When it came to Elanor, I noted that she was biracial.

“That’s not a category,” the officer replied.

“Other?” I asked.  This was what we had marked Elanor on the 2010 US census, and our default when there is no option for biracial.  (In SG there is “Eurasian” which is accurate enough, but is not a category in the US).

Annoyed, the officer looked at me and asked “What does she look like?

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Ellie, discovering the joy of a hotdog on a stick and adorably mussed

What does she look like?

  • Caucasians remark upon her gorgeous “natural tan.”
  • Indians praise her for being so “light.”
  • When she’s with me, people tend to assume she’s white.
  • When she’s with Ravi, people tend to assume she’s Indian.

She looks like Elanor

To say that Race is a problematic and complex issue in the US is an understatement.  I actually took an entire graduate level History class on the history of race in America.  The history of who got to be white and when and why is fascinating.

Respected Historian Eric Foner details in his essay

Although whiteness was not yet defined with any precision, most colonists thought they knew what it meant. Benjamin Franklin suggested in 1751 that since the number of “purely white people” in the world was “very small,” America ought to exclude “all Blacks and Tawneys,” among whom he included not only residents of Africa and Asia but also the “swarthy” peoples of Europe—“the Spaniards, Italians, French, Russians, and Swedes.” Franklin’s inclusion of Swedes among non-whites strikes us today as an original touch.

This notion of North America as the natural home of white people was refected in the Naturalization Act of 1790, one of the first laws passed after the ratifcation of the U. S. Constitution. In “Common Sense,” Tom Paine (misidentifed in Painter’s book as a Virginian, one of many small mistakes), called the new nation an “asylum” for all mankind. But the 1790 law limited citizenship for foreigners to “white” persons. Painter buries mention of the Act in a footnote related to late-nineteenth-century immigration policy. But it was a striking example of how, from the outset, the defnition of American nationhood contained a powerful and exclusionary racial component. After the Civil War, those of African descent were added to the list of persons eligible for naturalization. As the Ozowa and Thind cases of the 1920s showed, the exclusion of Asians lasted much longer.

But let’s talk about today.  Many would like you to think we live in some sort of post-race utopia because we elected Barack Obama.  However, as Obama-who is indentified as the “first Black President” and not the first biracial president-so eloquently displays, the “one-drop rule” is very much still in effect.  This article describes research that supports this–that when a person who is biracial is perceived as having only one race-the race of the minority parent is assigned to them.

“She’s Asian”

I thought about how others might see her-the biracial child of a white woman and an Asian man.  I thought about how Obama identifies as a black man instead of a biracial man.  I thought about identifying them as white.

I wondered how Elanor, who strongly identifies as Indian, would feel if I identified her as white (were she old enough to have an opinion-at which point she could make that choice herself).  I was torn, but even though she’s too young to really understand race, ethnicity, or the implications of race, I want to honor what I hoped Elanor would want me to say.

“She’s Asian,” I said.

Why make it a big deal?

It’s only a stupid piece of paper.  It’s a pointless police report.  What does it really matter in the long run?  Why get worked up over it?

I care because when Ellie was a baby, I was approached on two different occasions and asked “where did you get her?” as if she was a new pair of shoes.

I care because I don’t like the idea of either half of their heritage being denied.

I care because they may be excluded from belonging in either half of their heritage.  There was a controversy over Jacinta Lal, the blonde haired woman who won a Ms India pageant in NZ not “looking Indian” and people calling for her to be stripped of her title.

I care because one day they may consider buying the sort of skin whitening products I see on the shelf here all the time to fit the dominant white ideal of beauty.

I care because of every TSA agent who has given Ravi the “random” pat down because he’s brown with long hair and fits their idea of what a terrorist might look like.

I care because it’s not accidental that Ravi gives me the passports to hand over to passport control in the US–I’m the harmless norm (white) from which he deviates.

I care because I also had to explain that India is in Asia and Indian are Asian by the US race classification system because to most American Asian means a very narrow slice of Asia.

I care because of all the moments of casual racism like the one with the police officer, and I wish I could shield the girls from it, and know that I can’t.

Pictures from the wedding events

In today’s post I’m just going to highlight the girls.  Shots are from various wedding events.  I’ll do a more coherent post later

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Arrived in Vegas!

On Sunday we embarked on our West Coast US adventure.

There is very little that can be said about flying with two young children except that it does get better.  With each flight we take, Elanor becomes a better and better flier.  She can keep herself occupied for the most part, can feed herself, and even though we have a “Pull-ups on Planes” rule-she has been asking to go to the bathroom and stayed dry on the flights.  Rhi tends to be a crapshoot–when she sleeps she’s an easy travel companion, but we are in the tough 2-3 more years of travel, with the next 18 months being the most challenging (as she is too little to keep occupied for long).  One thing that helped on this flight was having Ravi with me.  We split the girls up (Ravi with Ellie, myself with Rhi) with seats behind one another and that allowed both of us to catch a few z’s here and there as our charges slept.

We arrived in LA at 9am, which I had anticipated being a huge issue in terms of being tired.  But we managed quite well–we got our sim cards so that we could use our phones, got food, hit a Target, went to the hotel to rest for two hours and then went to dinner with a friend of mine from college.  Thanks to that, we went to sleep at a “normal” hour and woke up more or less on local time.

Yesterday we drove from LA to Vegas.  We left a bit later than we’d planned, and I forgot that the sun sets at times other than 7, so I didn’t see the desert, but we have the drive back to see it.  We stopped at a diner called Peggy Sue’s 50′s Diner which was a lot of fun…it’s in the barren wasteland of nothingness between LA and Vegas (I’m not being hyperbolic–it’s a lot of desert and very few towns…there are no rest stops with mcDonalds and such).


We got into Vegas around midnight (the trip took about 7 hours instead of 3…life with children–the stop at Peggy Sue’s was pretty significant, time-wise, to let the kids run around outside and get some energy out).

I woke up today with a few of mountains in the distance and Ellie is super excited to see her grandparents.

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