The Markets & Music.

Something I love about Sydney are the markets. Every weekend, nearly every suburb has a market in one of the local schoolyards. Last weekend, Nay and I scored a few deals at one in Glebe, this weekend it was Rozelle. There are food vendors, antique sellers, naturopath products, clothing dealers, regulars, one-timers, a bit of everything, and everyone's up for a good bartering session. My favourite booths are the ones run by a couple of design school roommates moving to New York for a while and getting rid of half the wardrobes they've acquired over the last few years. And, if you show up at 3.30 just as everyone's packing up, you can score extra good deals on all the stuff no one wants to take back home with them...


The highlight of the weekend was getting some free tickets to hear Michael Nyman and his orchestra at the Sydney Opera House last night. He did the soundtracks for The Piano and Man On Wire, among others.


Yes, that man in the front is a native aboriginal playing the electric guitar and the didgeridoo, at the same time. Amazing stuff.

This Is Where I Live.

Every time I leave the house, I pinch myself about living where I do. The above (click it!) is a 180 view from a park 4 minutes walk away. That's Bondi out there, and a few other Northern Beaches.

Just over the hill in one direction, you get this view of the city:

Just over the hill in the other direction, you get this one of the sea:


Bellevue Hill is one of the wealthiest Sydney suburbs (a 'historic home' down the road sold last year for $22 million), with residents including the late Kerry Packer (Australia's richest man up until 2005) and actress Toni Collette. It's an easy 20 minute walk to the beach, Bondi Junction (shopping and transport hub), and Double Bay's bustling marina. It's also a a primarily Jewish area (nicknamed BelleJew Hill by some gentiles) and thus, as with most places I travel to, I stick out like a sore thumb. When I jokingly told one of the kids I nanny that I knew a bit of Hebrew because I was actually Jewish, she (age 8) laughed uproariously and said, "You're not Jewish... you're BLONDE!" Kids are so subtle.

A few of the humble abodes in the area:

Rooftop dinner, anyone? >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> This one has a long French name.


You can see straight through this one to the sea. >>>>>>>>>> Gotta love glass balconies on every side and level.

While I am not actually a huge house fan or architectural enthusiast, I have yet to get tired of views like this just outside my door:

Bellevue Hill, as your resident misfit blonde gentile, I salute you.

We Meet Again.

I stupidly assumed that coming back to a country I've been to not once, twice, but three times now, I'd have nothing to blog about. Easy enough writing about a place you're seeing for the first time, but a place you've already spent over 14 months...? One week back in Sydney and I've gotten a whole heap of people wondering where the blog is, and a whole heap of post ideas filling my head..

It's surreal, wonderful, and chilly being back. Winter in Oz is generally bearable except for the nights, when the lack of central heating is accutely felt. Thank God for wool socks and space heaters.

In the news these days... The economic crisis is not quite so extreme here, which is nice. An English backpacker was found alive today after being lost in the Blue Mountains for 12 days. Unfortunately swine flu cases are up and there have been quite a few deaths this week within New South Wales, and thanks to a mild earthquake in New Zealand yesterday, Bondi is on the lookout for a tsunami. So all in all, things are great!

Off for a bowl of passionfruit yogurt (how I've missed you!) and to hunt down some batteries for the camera. Pictures to come this weekend.

The Last Days.

Nat on the playground with Shanthi's kids.

Waiting for the Chennai Experess in the Bangalore Station.

Eating apples on the train.

A restuarant with free napkins! This means toilet paper for us!

Coconut milk... not as good as it looks.

Getting elephant blessings... obviously an enlightening experience.

With the temple elephant.

Nat buying jasmine for her hair.

Nat and I are back in Bellingham, safe, clean, happy, and unbelievably jet-lagged. We had a good train trip over to Chennai, and a great last day in Pondicherry with Tami. Walked through the Sri Aurobindo ashram barefoot, got blessed by an elephant, drank milk from coconuts, strolled along the beach, bought fresh jasmine, listened to all the tourists speaking beautiful French, visited a Hindu temple of the monkey god Hanuman, bought saris, got henna on our hands, and drank unbelievably strong coffee that kept us awake till 3am the next morning. The flight home was long but smooth and 2 very relieved parents were awaiting us at baggage claim 2 in the chilly SeaTac airport.

Being home feels extremely quiet and very clean, which says a lot about India considering the normal state of the Day house. We are thoroughly enjoying every non-spicy meal, clean blanket, hot shower, and uninterrupted phone conversation, and simultaneously missing the sunshine, mango lassi, and constant hugs from little brown arms.

Anytime's a Great Time to Pick Your Nose in India!

I think I read somewhere before coming here that Indians are often a bit less bashful than Westerners when it comes to bodily functions.

This is a massive understatement.

For whatever reason, the people here - men, women, and children alike - feel absolutely no shame belching, scratching, horking, and nose-picking in front of the rest of the world.

Case in point: While sitting in on some patient examinations at ACCEPT last week, the doctor (please note: the DOCTOR) stopped mid-sentence, horked loudly, got up, walked to the sink, spat out an enormous amount of what I can only assume was phlegm, cleared her throat, walked back to her seat, and continued the conversation with the patient.

Immediately after this, the nurse in the next room - a very cute, petite, young gal - let out one of the loudest and longest belches I have ever heard in my entire life.

This is in a HOSPITAL, so you can only imagine what it's like outside. On my way down from Pune on the train, I observed this guy digging so deep for something in his nose I thought he might injure himself. He - of course - maintained eye contact with me during the entire 5-minute ordeal.

For clarification's sake, this post is not written out of criticism but admiration, more than anything. Why our culture has made such a big deal out of publicly dealing with basic bodily functions is beyond me. We could simplify things so much by just getting things done whenever and wherever.

On a completely random note, the other day I met a guy whose name was Sayedmahaboob. The end.

Currently fighting sleep to go pick up Nat from the airport at 11pm. We have one day left in Bangalore, then spend Tuesday on the Chennai Express for our last 3 days in Madras...