Many members of Shashank's extended family were visiting: aunts and uncles, cousins, his brother and brother's friends, his fiancee and her mother and little sister, and his sister's friends. They were all concerned that I would find the food spicy. (I think I may have disappointed them by not making much reaction about the heat. Sometimes you are
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You can also toast mustard seeds without the oil. Cumin seeds, too.
I'm glad you get to eat food. When dwarfinthebarn went, $Company2 told him not to eat outside hte hotel--which even made them box lunches. Apparently a bunch of $Company2 employees have been very sick over there.
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No, I know. It was just something that I had read about, so it had developed a kind of mystique. Ooooh, clarified butter. Clarified butter... I wonder what that's like.
So I finally find out and... it's like butter. =P
Oh, $Employer had plenty of rules for me. I've gradually broken... ah... yes, all of them. Oh, except for the raw seafood one. Which I'll promptly break in Austin.
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I really like Ali Farka Toure, this wicked good bluesman from Mali who sings in about half a dozen languages. In DC I lived with a Malian for about six months; he dug that I knew Toure. Once, when one of Toure's songs came on where he sings in Bambara, I asked my roommate (who spoke Bambara), "What the hell is he saying, anyway?"
He listened for a second, looking bemused, and then started (loosely) translating: "Baby don't go, baby stay..."
Oh, right, I thought: he's a blues singer.
It's cool when they sound devotional and full of intent, but oh how often it turns out that they miss their Baby.
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Ah, I could relate to that, too.
*sniff*
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