Rachel Corrie

Back after a long time.

Had meant to write about the play we had seen a while back - My Name is Rachel Corrie. Of course, everyone probably knows what it is all about. Rachel Corrie, a native of Olympia, Washington, who went as a peace worker to Israel-occupied Gaza, and was run over and killed by an Israeli bulldozer as it demolished yet another Palestinian house. The play is a one-woman performance by Marla Sea Kaminski, a very expressive young actor, who obviously put her heart and soul into her work.

The play was pieced together from Corrie's own personal journal, and gives a wonderful insight into her coming-of-age thought process. Obviously, the play recounted Corrie's experiences in Gaza. But, heart-wrenching as it was, it was not the only interesting thing about the play. What was pleasantly surprising were Corrie's general observations on life in Olympia. She comes across as a sensitive and perspicacious individual.

A voice over at the end informed us that by all reliable accounts, Corrie was intentionally, not accidentally, plowed over by the Israeli bulldozer.

Vusi Mahlasela in Seattle

Vusi Mahlasela, the legendary South African musician, singer-songwriter, performed at The Triple Door a few weeks ago. Vusi, who was one of the voices for the non-violent struggle against apartheid in South Africa, showed a glimpse of the powerful magic that he has been weaving the last three decades. He is a master on the guitar, and his music is so lovely that one forgets that some of the songs were in unfamiliar South African languages. He also had a very talented band, who seemed somewhat shy with all the attention, which was quite charming.

Vusi's earthy poetry brought to life the beauty of the African continent, beauty that would surely make one breathless - if one were fortunate enough to see it. Predictably, a lot of the songs he performed were rooted in the apartheid-era struggles. But, he did not, by any means, imply that the struggle for justice in the world was a thing of the past. On the contrary, he spent several minutes talking about the poverty and injustice that remains entrenched, particularly in Africa, and he dedicated a lovely song to the bush people of the Kalahari in Botswana, who are now being driven out of the land they have lived on since humans first walked on the earth.

His music and life has been shaped by, among other things, strong women of character. He recounted an incident from his youth, when as black-listed college activists, he and his friends were routinely hounded and harassed by the apartheid-era police. One evening, tiring of her grandson's brushes with the police state, his grandmother asked the young Vusi to sleep inside her house, as she stood guarding the doorstep. When the police arrived, the dauntless woman yelled at them - look, I have a big pot of boiling water here, the first one of you to come near Vusi gets it. And the cops slinked away. Vusi also sang of an unknown pregnant woman who jumped over a barbed-wire fence so her baby could be born in safety.

After over an hour of great beauty, Vusi and the band did their final bows to the audience, who were loath to let them go.

I couldn't help thinking that it seemed a little incongruous and paradoxical that Vusi's audience that evening was an all-white (with only a handful of exceptions), visibly privileged crowd. I wish we could have sponsored a performance of his at a less-privileged and racially diverse neighborhood of the city. Everyone should have a chance to hear his music. In Vusi's own words: "I know that I have something that is like a borrowed fire from God. And I have to use it in a very positive way."

Democracy Now! on TV

Seattleites and Eastsiders:

Democracy Now!, the award-winning daily news program that has spearheaded the largest public television collaboration, is accessible to us on Channel 77 on Comcast cable. Has been for some time.

Infrastructure for the local public access television is provided by SCAN. The channel also broadcasts several other public interest programs, including programming from FreeSpeech TV, ACLU Freedom Files, independent films on issues of local and broader relevance, and recordings of local community events.

Democracy Now! is always accessible on the web, of course.

Power Flicker in Redmond?

We have experienced at least three brief (3-4 seconds) power interruptions in Redmond since this morning. Any idea what's causing it? I don't see any signs of severe weather outside.

Tandoori Kitchen

Looking for great kababs and Chicken Biryani on the Eastside? Head to Tandoori Kitchen in Kirkland. Unassuming, authentic and good quality. Try the Reshmi kababs, which are as good as having them in a roadside "dhaba'' in South Asia. Chicken biryani, veggies, and dal - always reliable, if you like your veggies cooked Punjabi style.

Very friendly folks. The last time we went to get a take out, the owner reminisced on old Lahore, and the bygone days of South Asia.

(Didn't care for the lamb curry - full fat lamb .... uh oh.)

Yessler Terrace Public Housing

Yessler Terrace, the last public housing location in Seattle, was the subject of a local documentary film recently screened on the SCAN television station. The film featured the viewpoints of Yessler's low-income residents, activists from the Community Coalition of Environmental Justice (CCEJ), and the Seattle Housing Authority (SHA). Plans are about to begin for the conversion of the site into a mixed housing community, as previously in Holly Park, High Point, and Rainier Vista.

Logically, mixed housing seems a wise and humane choice for the sustenance of urban communities that are welcoming of ethnically diverse people with low and moderate incomes. However, according to public housing advocacy groups, the conversion to mixed housing in the other neighborhoods, while including units for low income people, has resulted in the overall displacement of 1000+ former public housing residents.

Check out a Pepperspray video for a short online version of the film.

Pappardelle's Pasta

Pappardelle's Pasta, which now has a large stall inside Pike Place market, is a dry pasta heaven. The endless medley of dry pastas, balsamic vinegars, salad dressings, and olive oils is a feast for the eyes.

IMO, their most fantastic product is their whole wheat orzo. Whole wheat orzo is virtually impossible to find, in general. And anything approaching Pappardelle's size and quality of the orzo is, I think, non-existent. The grains retain their large and beautiful jewel-like shape on cooking, and have such a rich, nutty flavor that you don't need much in the way of a coating sauce. I tossed the cooked orzo in olive oil over a medium flame, with lots of minced garlic, shallots, fresh chopped spinach and watercress, roasted chicken, and roasted red, orange, and yellow bell peppers. Tasted FABULOUS.

Central Cinema

We visited Central Cinema for the first time earlier this month, when we went for the Aaina film festival. We got there around 6:00pm for the 7:00pm show - way too early. Being early birds, however, meant that we got very easy parking on 21st street, only a few yards down from the cinema.

Central has table seating in the front hall, which is like a regular restaurant with friendly wait staff and a full, interesting menu. The cinema hall, which is like a cosy playhouse, has sofa-style booth seating with built-in tables, and they continue to take orders and serve you while you are watching the movie, so no pushing through hordes at the concession stands. The table reminded me somewhat of my grade school, and I almost expected to have my khaki schoolbag at my elbow. Happily, though, I stirred myself back to the lively Aaina crowd, and the food that the Central lady had just placed on our table!

The Bolivian coffee, served in small French presses, was fresh, aromatic, and full-bodied. The creme brulee was nice, but a bit too rich for our taste. We also had a tasty eggplant sandwich with fresh bread, and a side of crisp and strikingly fresh baby spinach leaves dressed in olive oil. They also serve beer and wine.

Central reminds us of our beloved Madstone Theater. We haven't had coffee like Madstone anywhere, and we watched some of the best movies ever at Madstone (except for Gerry - we are still waiting for our money back from Matt Damon, and comp for the 100 minutes we will never get back) . Madstone's demise left us with a hole in our heart, and we are happy to discover Central in the Seattle area, our new home. A look at their recent screenings gives us good reason to want to make repeated visits in the coming weeks.

A very nice place to have good food and drink, and watch eclectic and thoughtprovoking cinema that is hard to find in, say, Bellevue's Lincoln Square?

Middle East Voyage of Seattle's Own

Aaina's first evening also included a talk by Seattle writer Maliha Masood, who read from her book "Zaatar Days, Henna Nights". Masood is a a writer of Pakistani origin, raised in Seattle. The book is an account of her recent pre-911 travels through the Middle East. The extracts she read were quite well-written, interesting, and full of texture, although at times seeming laden with self-awareness.

One good reason to read the book is the fact that the author, an American and a Muslim of South Asian origin, brings to life the humanity of the people of the Middle East, something of most dire need for us Americans. Responding to an audience question on whether she felt safe at all in the Middle East, Masood said that she felt much safer there than she did during the preceding months in Europe.

Really strange (and rude) that the audience did not applaud at the end of her reading. The author did her best to tide over the awkwardness, but where were the organizers? And, as usual, technology let us down - never saw the promised slides that were to have accompanied the reading.

See Masood's blog.

Talking of the Yoni [2]

[Continued from the previous post in this thread.]

I was a little puzzled by the fact that the performance was in English, despite the play's title. As a South Asian, seeing "Yoni Ki Baat" written on the Aaina flyer naturally led me to believe that the performance would be in Hindi. So when the actors started in English, I could not help feeling just a bit disappointed. I was so pumped up thinking I would see an edgy play about the yoni in Hindi.... Yes, I do speak Hindi.

On the other hand, there are several very compelling reasons for having it in English - a) keeping it accessible to all Seattleites, b) who in the hell came up with this fallacious notion that Hindi is some sort of universal South Asian language, anyway (did you know that Hindi is the native tongue of less than half of India, and we aren't even talking about the rest of the sub-continent, with its rich linguistic diversity)?

The performance was fabulous in English, but it would also be thrilling to have it in a language from the South Asian sub-continent. Contrary to what is often believed, there are examples (despite the sexually repressive culture) of excellent literature in Indian languages that openly deal with sexuality.

See Part 1 of this post.

Talking of the Yoni

The highlight of Aaina's first evening was a stage performance entitled"Yoni Ki Baat", a South Asian rendition of the famed "Vagina Monologues", created by Eve Ensler, the objective of which has been to exhort women to shed self and societally imposed inihibitive notions about their own sexuality, and to speak out against sexual and gender-based violence. For those of you to whom the monologues are news (are you kidding me, guy?!), read about Eve Ensler, and the monologues. "Yoni" means "vagina" in the ancient Indian language of Sanskrit, and in Hindi. "Yoni Ki Baat" means "Talks of the" Yoni in Hindi.

The actors, all women of South Asian heritage and none of them professional performers, gave an intensely provocative and electric presentation to a completely sold-out cinema hall. And the actors could not have asked for a more supportive crowd. In response to Farah Nousheen's (Tasveer's co-founder and one of the Yoni actors) very endearing appeal to the audience to "please send some love our way, we are all doing this for the first time", everyone responded with animation, and cheered and applauded all through the performance. And the post-play discussion revealed the depths to which everyone, especially the men, was stirred.

The writing, which was pivotal, was great. Some of it was from the original, some from the South Asian sisters, and two or three self-written by the actors. It was edgy, irreverent, humorous, searing, and tragic. The story of the woman in a stark and loveless marriage, with the nightly sex as romantic as a surgical procedure, was very sensitively and poignantly performed by Farah. The piece entitled "Egosexual", with its "me and my vagina living it up", was deliciously droll. The piece recollected the momentous discovery by a young Indian woman that the Shiv Ling portrays the inside view of the male organ in the female, and that the ancient South Asians worshipped this symbol as the eternal source of life in the universe. And the humorous essay juxtaposed the yucky experience of being rubbed against by sweaty, horny jerks in the DTC buses with this moment of discovery of sensual and cosmic beauty.

Uma Rao presented a mesmeric self-written piece centered around her intimate and powerful relationship with her mother. Being fortunate enough to have strong emotional and intellectual bonds with my own mother, Uma's piece touched me to the point of tears. The performance was a winning combination of beautiful writing, and a bold yet soft and sensitive presentation. Gita Mehrotra performed another self-written piece, "For all of Us". In my opinion, she has the makings of a sensitive writer. Her piece was an extremely moving account of different women, ranging from her own grandmother who was widowed early to South Asian lesbians known only via newspaper clippings. It talked about the heartbreaking realization that South Asian lesbian histories (like the histories of so many oppressed groups in the world) are virtually non-existent, lost forever. The beauty of the essay was in the seamless collecting together of the sadness across generations and across sexual orientations, and an understanding that women share a collective past, present, and future.

Above all, the performances were honest and courageous. I cannot imagine too many women (let alone Eastern women) having the spunk to do it. So, my gratitude to all who made the performance possible.

Also check out Uprising Radio's Sonali Kolhatkar's interview of the South Asian Sisters.

See part 2 of this post.

Aaina - South Asian Women's Films

This past Friday (March 16, 2007), we went to the Aaina Film Festival at the lovely Central Cinema. Aaina is an annual Seattle film festival, a forum for the creativity of the women of South Asian origin. Aaina (which means 'mirror' or 'looking glass' in Urdu and Hindi) is a joint presentation of Tasveer, a group dedicated to bringing South Asian cinema to the Northwest, and Chaya, which is a grassroots organization aimed at fighting domestic violence in South Asian households in the area.

Aaina had various film and stage offerings over three days. As per their flyer (we could only attend the first evening), one of the films screened was "Mukhtar Mai - The Struggle for Freedom", a documentary featuring the woman who was brutally gang-raped in a Pakistani village, and who has since emerged as a very strong and dedicated voice for the empowerment of women in the region. Another fascinating entry they had planned was "ManjuBen Truckdriver", about the sole woman truck driver in India, with a post-film discussion led by Trikone.

The festival (at least Friday evening) was well-attended by Seattleites and Eastsiders, of South Asian origin and otherwise. Hopefully, blog readers who checked out the festival on Saturday and Sunday will post comments to let us know how it went.

Cafe Bengodi

The Italian cuisine treasure of Pioneer Square. An unbelievably tiny restaurant, with scrappy tableware and silverware, that dishes out some of the most delectable pasta meals we've ever had. They have a varying menu, I think. We tried the bruschetta with chicken pate - crisp, yummy, and rich. The pesto tortelline in chicken broth was both mellow and luscious at the same time - the broth overwhelming the senses.

Traveling Philosopher

I spotted the man on a crisp Saturday morning, sitting on a chair on the sidewalk outside the cafe. He had a pigtail and long, pointy beard, and wore a hat, and faded brown trousers and jacket. He was selling his self-published memoirs, full of personal and philosophical observations, written when he was on the road all over the country a few years ago.

Several passers-by and those lunching at the cafe stopped at his table, chatted with him, and bought his books, priced at between five and twenty dollars, the latter referred to as "the cadillac of my books". I stood listening to a couple of his poems, which were mildly interesting. And ended up buying the "cadillac", which I did not want.

He was friendly and honest. On learning that I lived on the other side of the lake, where people lived in neat houses with lawns and went to malls on the weekend, he said he had never been there, adding good-humoredly that "they probably don't want rabble like me there, anyway".

And Now, folks, Another Snowstorm

When I was interviewing in this area before we relocated, and even later when we were planning the relocation, we heard such stories about the mild winters of the Seattle area. They all seem like one big conspiracy now. First, the snowstorm after Thanksgiving, then the disastrous windstorm, and another snostrom today. Some mild winter.

Heard people around me at work talk about snow storm advisory. I went to a street side window around 3pm. It was overcast. The streets were still clear and dry. The next time I looked, around 4:30-5:00pm, I think. It was coming down heavily. I grabbed my stuff, and headed out to catch the bus home. The snow looked like tiny styrofoam packing material. The bus was about 10 minutes late. I was getting worried. But it did arrive. I was to soon find out that 10-minutes delay was hardly any delay that evening. I was to sit in the bus for next three hours.

We have kept the flashlight, candles and the firewood ready. Another power outage? Pray not.

Windpocalypse Aftermath: PSE - Power Outage Update on the Internet!

We were listening to KUOW while driving on Saturday afternoon. Some senior official or spokesperson from PSE joined in. She was asked to speak in detail on the power outage, and what people needed to know. Guess what she said in response: "check our website."

Are you kidding me? What the heck are you there for on the radio? Do you understand why they called you on the radio? This is the only means of public communication that the majority of the folks may have access to when there's a widespread power outage. You are telling me to go use a facility that requires power to find out more about power outage? What's worse: the KUOW host did not catch this irony either. What makes these people so dense, is it the disaster or is it business as usual?

Windpocalypse Aftermath: Tuesday

Fifth day of power outage. We were slipping towards a breakdown. Another shower at the health club. Another day of eating out. Today, it was Tandoori Kitchen in Kirkland. I did go to work for a few hours but it is becoming pointless by now. Those whom you needed to talk to were the most likely out. You sat at your desk and very soon found it hard to keep your eyes open. But the congestion and the cough won't let you fall asleep either.

After lunch, we decided to drive by the house to check on power -- we have long gotten rid of our answering machine for the phone company voice mail, so can't check on power by phone. As we got closer to our house, we started seeing houses and businesses with their power restored. Our hopes rose. We pulled in. The garage door wouldn't go up. We opened the front door and stepped inside. Hopes were shattered. Still no power. Words won't describe the frustration.

The rest of the afternoon was a daze. Some Internet surfing, some coffee, more coffee. It was about 6pm. Time to hunt for dinner. "Let's swing by the house before heading out to eat." We, the eternal optimists or people on the verge of a breakdown? From some distance, we saw lights in the houses next door. But we didn't dare believe our fortune until we saw it with our own eyes.

Yes! The garage door went up this time!

Windpocalypse Aftermath: Monday

This was our fourth day of power outage. We are starting to show signs of fatigue.

Going to work was better than staying at home, of course. We had learned the night before that our health club got their power back and was open for business. We got up early and headed straight there to get cleaned up. Oh! That hot water felt so delicious. I could have stayed in the shower all day.

I headed for work. It was hard to get much done. A good number of people had come in, but several of them were still without power. Poeple from remote towns (on PSE's network) like Duvall and Woodinville were not expecting power until the end of the week. Some folks who had plans for X'mas travel were talking about taking off early.

We patronized BIG TIME pizza in Redmond for lunch. They have decent unassuming food - can go there any time for a casual meal.

The workday had to end early as we had to start preparing for another cold night. We were running seriously low on firewood by this time. Unless the power got restored by Tuesday, we were going to be in trouble unless shops replenished their stocks of wood. Before heading home, we stopped by the Wine and Spirit Store off Redmond way to pick up some brandy, which turned out to be such a lifesaver.

Windpocalypse Aftermath: Sunday

Third morning after the storm. Still had no power. How long was it going to take them to restore power?

We headed to Whole Foods for breakfast. Later, I checked out the workplace. They had power! I got online. Checked all the local news. Wasn't looking good.

We had lunch at Whole Foods. Dreaded going back to the cold house. The firewood was disappearing quickly. All the shops were completely cleaned out. Whole Foods was expecting a delivery of Java Logs later that day. (But they wouldn't arrive until Tuesday morning.)

We hung around here and there, drinking coffee and more coffee. Before heading home, we picked up dinner from Thai Ginger. Another cold night. Describing that ordeal is already getting old.

Windpocalypse Aftermath: Saturday

The day started with another round of wood-smoked tea, and a breakfast of bread and jam. (The fireplace has doubled as stove and room heater.)

We started calling around friends. Being new in the area, we don't know a lot of people yet. Those we do know were pretty much in the same boat. The news about the power outage and repairs was not too encouraging. PSE service area was hit pretty hard. The outages affecting more people were going get repaired first... which meant we were going to need more wood.

We set out to see what the scene was like and, of course, to find some lunch. The power was still out of work. So, no Internet. Internet withdrawl was adding to the power withdrawl ;-)

We decided to checkout Redmond Town Center. Matt's was open and packed with windstorm refugees. We finally found a seat at the bar. The bartender was extremely busy. Another guy was supposed to join him a while ago. He hadn't been able make it. You saw several staff members without uniform. Look's like the owner's family had come out. The owner was taking orders at the bar. Even on this busy day, when they were barely keeping the place running due to staff shortage, Matt's delivered, both on the food and the service.

We felt a little better equipped for the rest of the day ahead, although still fearful of the inevitable, impending cold night.

Windpocalypse Aftermath: Later Friday

Getting inventive - or getting back to the basics:

From the time we lost the power the Thursday night, the night of the windstorm, we had opened the refrigerator very infrequently. The leftovers were still good...but cold. We arranged some natural firewood in the fireplace so that a small pot or a pan could be placed securely on top. After selecting a couple of vessels that we could stand to sacrifice (them turning permanantly black), we were all set to warm up the leftovers and have our lunch.

After lunch, I listened to the news again. More stories of fallen trees, Majority of the PSE customers in the King county out of power. Still more stories of fallen trees and power lines. Like the good citizens we are, we decided not to venture out.

Just a few hours later, close to sundown, we decided to have an afternoon snack and hot tea before it would turn dark. Back to the fireplace :)

The time passed very slowly once it got dark. The stories of previous power outages do come in handy, but they don't last forever. Few more hours, and we were hungry again. "This probably would be the last meal out of leftovers. Some restaurants better get their power back by tomorrow." The fireplace food-warming was making us nostalgic about the food cooked over the wood burning stoves in the country back home. We were cold, but tried to have a (not so) romantic, candle-light supper.

The time passed even slower. The temperature overnight was expected to dip below freezing. So, before going to bed, we put out a bunch of food from the refrigerator on the patio, including the milk :)

The sleep was far from sound. Every three hours or so, I found myself getting up to throw another log into the fireplace :(

Windpocalypse Aftermath: Friday Morning, PCC

Sometime in the middle of the night, the bone chilling cold woke me up. The fire had almost gone out, I threw in another log. Most of the heat from the previous night had dissipated by the morning, turning the house chilly and making it hard to get out of bed.

Without the right batteries, the radio inside the house was useless. So, I went to the car to catch the news. The scene seemed pretty grim. Practically the whole of the Eastside had lost power. One caller reported: around 4am, he looked over the Lake Washinton from his house near the UW campus -- whole of the eastside, as far as he could see, was pitch dark.

There was not much hope that any businesses would be open. But we decided to stop by one of the nearest grocery store anyway: the PCC store. They were open but barely, and were planning on shutting down very soon. Their generator was not expected to arrive anytime soon (from Tacoma, I think.) Interestingly, you could use a credit card -- their cash registers were still working on the batteries, which ran out soon after, of course. On that first morning after the disaster, PCC decided to offer free drip coffee to all who came, which they could make using their gas stoves. How nice of them!

At the coffee station, we encountered an interesting experience. The queue was not too long, about 10 folks. PCC staff was repeatedly announcing that more coffee was on the way. Still, many of those in line were already showing impatience, trying to cut into the line, almost elbowing others out at the coffee station.

Coming of the Windpocalypse

Around 3pm last Thursday afternoon, someone at work forwarded a severe weather advisory for a windstorm... with a remark that this looks like a big one. Most of us decided to leave early to avoid the traffic trouble and prepare for the disaster. I picked up some firelogs, water and some batteries. Sure enough, size D batteries were already gone. Before arriving home, I stopped by the gas station to fill up. The queue was longer than usual - 5 cars in front of me. Little did I know how smart this patient wait was going to turn out in coming days.

By 7pm , you could already see and hear the wind storm. We kept candles, the flashlight and the firewood handy. Turned up the heat to warm up the house in anticipation. Funny thing happened around 10pm. We were watching SCAN TV. A host introducing a documentary said, "now let's watch the documentary," and clicked the remote (kind of pointing towards the camera) to start playing the film.... At the very same instant we lost power. As if he clicked off the power of our entire neighborhood :)

Windpocalypse was here. We went to bed early in front of the fireplace...

Sisters Cafe

This little Mediterranean sandwich shop is one of our regular destinations for a light lunch on a Saturday afternoon at Pike Place. Our favorite is the "Nasruddin", marinated grilled eggplant and hummus sandwich, with an awesome olive paste, on crisp fresh slices of focaccia bread. They have great sides in the form of healthy salads with olive oil dressings. Everything is made fresh. The folks are friendly and the place is quintessentially a local store at Pike Place. The focaccia bread is so good that we often take home a slab with us. Tastes great with our homemade marinara.

Definitely a "go-to" for vegetarians and vegans, but the food is tasty enough to tempt all.

Getting over the Snowstorm

Things are getting back to normal with side streets beginning to clear up. The snowstorm did give us a forced break for a day, after the exhausting Thanksgiving break. It was looking quite beautiful outside with all the snow and ice.

Snowstorm 2006

We just got back from dropping off friends at Sea-Tac. On our way back, the flakes had already started coming down. We reached home. Turned the TV on. It's coming down hard at Sea-Tac. I hope our guests made it out. (They were visiting us from the suburban wastelands of Southern California, and were dying to get back there.) A lot of closures predicted for tomorrow. I suppose, as we have heard, it doesn't snow very often here, so they probably do not invest heavily in snow equipment. And when it does snow, most of the place shuts down.

Just got a text message on my cellphone. Our guests have safely made it out, with a little delay. Boy, are we glad that the snow did not cancel their flight. We had them for the entire four days of Thanksgiving, folks, ..., give us a break :)

Raining in Seattle

I do believe that it has rained every single day in November here in the Seattle area. Most Americans hate (or at least profess to hate) the rain. But I love it when it rains. Sure, you can have too much of any good thing, and it can be dreary if you don't see the sun in days. But a rainy day has its own special charms. I am looking out the window of a coffee shop in Seattle right now. The city looks so nice and cosy the through the rain-drenched window panes. The scene reminds me of Paris, and Dublin, and Mumbai - three cities I love - after Seattle, obviously. I am glad to have met several Seattleites and Eastsiders who say they love the rain.

July 4th 2006

By the 4th of July, we had been here a couple of weeks. And just getting to know the place. We had, of course, visited Pike Place market, and it had already become our ritualistic Saturday haunt. We had temporary housing in Kirkland.

Our usual feelings on July 4th can best be described, depending on how energetic we feel on the day, as either completely indifferent and "couldn't care less", or something that provokes a bevy of philosophical questions - about the concept of a (ANY) nation state, and the acts that were committed in different parts of the world to make ordinary people believe in an artificial notion of allegiance and shared destinies, while really getting pushed into a homogenized and controlled version of their real communities and culture.

Not surprisingly, we were unsure about what to do that weekend. We finally decided to take in the atmosphere, since this was our first fourth of July here. So we headed to the Kirkland Marina, where there was going to be a parade. The only really interesting performance was by the Seahawks band, which was pretty good. The rest of the program was lacklustre. The sidewalks were filled with mostly very affluent-looking women of all ethnicities, wearing huge diamond rings and thick gold bands, clothing from the GAP, and pushing strollers with babies who were equally expensively outfitted, and who clutched tiny American flags in their fists.

In the evening, as we looked out the large windows of our apartment, we realized suddenly that we had a virtually undisturbed, though distant, view of the Kirkland Marina, Washington lake and the other side, Seattle city. Unbelievable! We were able to see the entire fireworks display on both the Eastside and in Seattle. And it was spectacular. That was unadulterated joy.

Lo Priore Brothers Pasta Bar

We were wandering aimlessly around Pike Place on one of these delicious, lazy Saturday mornings in late summer. Walking on Post Alley, and looking at the lunch crowd, we realized we were hungry, and walked inside the building. Immediately indoors is this unassuming little place called simply "Pasta Bar".

Never shy, we scanned the plates of the other customers, and everything looked appetizing. We ordered a ravioli and a fettuccine in alfredo and pesto, and joined the hungry summer throngs in tucking away the pasta. The flavors were so earthy and satisfying. We walked away with a lovely, warm sensation inside our tummies. We know we will keep coming back here.

So-Called Moderate Summers of Seattle

So one of the first things Seattle locals told us on our weeklong apartment-hunting trip in early June was about the Puget Sound summers. They raved about the glorious summer months of the Seattle area, when the sun always shines, and the long days are mild under azure skies.

Well, they were certainly right about the sun always shining, but I am not so sure about the 'mild' part. We moved here in mid-June, and several of the days here reminded us of the dog days of summer where we lived earlier. Seattle and the Eastside are having sweltering days of 95-100 degrees - and guess what, folks, the apartments here do not have airconditioning! Maybe I should applaud this as a much-needed act (on the part of us consumption-crazy Americans) of energy conservation.

Most of the locals have assured us that what just ended was a very unusual summer. We fervently hope they are right.

Welcome to Seattle(-Schmeattle)!

In the spring of this year, we found out that we will be relocating to the Seattle area from another state. When we announced this to our friends and family, we got a lot of excited reactions. Yes, a lot of them were about the rain. (A friend 'kindly' reminded us more than once: "Don't forget your umbrellas!".) But, mostly, the reactions were positive. Many of our friends thought Seattle was a cool and hip place to move to. One mentioned that Seattleites "were totally the pioneers in the urban environmental movement". Another mentioned the famed natural beauty of the Pacific Northwest. And several were thrilled (really) to hear that we were moving to "Frazier-land".

We were quite excited ourselves about moving to the Seattle area. Despite our excitement, though, we could not avoid the transition phase the first couple of months, during which one gets some unexpected (and not very pleasing) surprises from the new place. We found ourselves experiencing such moments not so infrequently...and then often we would end it by exclaiming: Seattle-Schmeattle!

At the same time, we were enjoying and beginning to love so many of the new things we were discovering about this place. The natural beauty is breathtaking, and has to be seen to be believed. Mount Rainier unfailingly sends a thrill of exhilaration down my spine everytime I look up at it on a clear day. The people at the local PCC organic store make us feel like family.

On one of the late and bright summer evenings, we looked at each other and said, "hey, why not capture this experience...in all of its contrast." And this blog was born.

This is a space for our comunity to capture experiences and perceptions about Seattle and the Eastside. We hope that the locals reading this blog will enjoy looking at their neighborhood through new eyes, will educate us about the neighborhood, and help us have a continued rich experience of this place - the place that we are looking to make our home for years to come.

Alongside, the blog may also make interesting reading for people who want to know about the Seattle area, want to visit the area or are considering relocating here.

Let's see how it goes. Stay tuned!