Kabir here! We started today with an unruly knock at the bedroom door from Harish bhai at 7:30 with the warm smell of omelets, the difficulty of breathing associated with the sautéeing of green chilis, and the coveted first cup of chai to start the day. I however started my day entertaining Harishbhai with a coughing spasm after he fed me a whole green chili affirming me, “they are not bad at all”. Krishnabhai met us after breakfast to take us shopping for traditional Indian clothes for the Sangeet dance, later that day, of Urja’s mom’s best friend’s son…so pretty much family. We found a stunning ghagra for Rachel that encompassed traditional India and the moderns of her youth. The owner of the store showed us different folding techniques of the dupatta that changed the formality of the clothes in accordance to the event. Total game changer. Now it was the guy’s turn to find the clothing that would make us stand out, give a killer first impression, personify confidence much like Rachel’s choice. So obviously we based our decision off of color and shininess.
When we returned back to the guesthouse we were greeted with subji and an endless amount of roti. Since we are planned to meet with Setco tomorrow we sat down afterwards, obviously with a cup of chai, to discuss what had to be taken care of in Dolatpura. We divided it into two categories, toilets and stoves, and tackled each piece identifying our goals, how we can relay these goals to Setco, and how Setco can help us.
Finally, perhaps the most important conversation, what in tarnation we will do for the dance. I took it upon my shoulders and decided that I would do the sprinkler, Rachel the lawn mower, and Sai the disco. Afterwards we continued with our work and discussed the goals for Medapur. Sai practiced his photography skills capturing photos of pigeons on concrete for hours.
We got all perdied up. We put on our kurtas, our ghagras, and took way too many selfies. Rachel also flattered Sai and I by taking some wonderful pictures. After some confusion in communication with location and time we arrived to the venue where the party was held. Urja and her mother greeted us and led us to the vast array of Gujurati street food. We chowed down, avoided dancing, and hoarded freshly made Jalebi. We promptly left after Urja, took more selfies, and returned home. Jetlag was still our adversary, so we hunkered down, changed, brushed our teeth and called it a night.