family

India Phase 3: Goa

I realize it’s been a while since we got back from India, but I finally decided to continue posting the remaining photos from our great trip. Phase 3: Goa.

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Our time in Goa was unlike the rest of our trip. We were in total vacation mode– beaches, sunsets, pools, shopping and good food. We stayed at a hotel that sat atop a hill overlooking the beach– a perfect spot to watch the sunset.

The biggest difference between other beaches I’ve been to and Goa beaches were the cows and water buffalo. They were mostly harmless, however there was one near disaster. I was simply walking down the beach taking a selfie when a water buffalo lowered his head and rammed his horns towards me. If I had been just an inch closer, his horns would have punctured my torso, no doubt. The pictures below document the event. They don’t exactly portray the severity of the situation because I was so oblivious as to what was happening. I only became aware he was charging towards me once I heard the growing screams of a nearby group watching with more amusement than concern.

The only other beach encounters involved cows trying to snag the pakora off of our plates. They succeeded more than once.

The second craziest night market we went to was in Goa (the first was in Varanasi). It was the type of market that needed to be visited twice– the first time for making the rounds and soaking it all in, and the second to actually shop.

On our first day Lars and I walked the shore and explored the rocky bends of the beach. We found lots of little creatures and neat rock formations. Additionally, Mom, Dad, Lars and I took a day trip to a yoga center in order to take a class.

Overall, there was a lot of relaxation during our time in Goa. It was a much needed relief from the bustle of the cities.

Goa was definitely a fun spot, and I wouldn’t hesitate to go back!

Family Time in Norway

This past trip to Norway was full of great family time. We all joined Aunt Anne outside of Oslo for Griffin’s folkehøgeskule graduation.

While I was in Bergen shrimp-picnicing, hiking, and catching up with friends, Grandma and Grandpa were sailing down the coast from the islands of Lofoten to Bergen. They hopped off their boat and met us at the train station so that we could all spend the 17th of May in Grandma’s hometown, Hønefoss. The train ride was very scenic, despite the periodic darkness during numerous tunnels.

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Griffin stayed in Hønefoss before he headed out on a trip around Europe with his friend from home. Kayla, Grandpa, Griffin and I enjoyed Ole Magnus’s home brewed beer on our first night in Honefoss– our first time drinking with Griffin. We enjoyed Ole Magnus’s home brew– so much so that by the time we left, his supply had dried up! OJ wouldn’t even put his down while on the slackline– but maybe he just wanted an added challenge.

Kari, Ole Magnus, and OJ were excellent hosts as always. The 17th of May was full of good food, drinks, and people– like it should be. We even lucked out with the weather. The day began with the traditional champaign breakfast, followed by the Hønefoss parade.

The rest of the day was spent celebrating– grilling, eating, and drinking with family and friends.

One of the highlights of the trip was getting to wear Grandma’s bunard for the third time. This is a traditional Norwegian dress made of wool and embroidered with regional designs. Grandma embroidered hers herself when she was a teenager. She’s worn it for countless celebratory occasions, my mom was married in it, and now I’ve gotten to wear it three times.

Even though they couldn’t make it for the 17th, Knut Harald, Nina, Jacob, and Josefine came to visit afterwards. We had yet another great day of sun, good food, drinks, and relaxation. It was great to see (almost) everyone from the family this trip.

India Phase 2B: The Upadhyaya Homecoming

We woke up the next morning and walked through the alleys of Azamgarh to make it back to the family’s house. We ate great pakora and drank hot chai before setting out on our adventure to the village.

The historic walk to Haathia ran through the streets of the city before hitting the bridge. This car bridge was new– when my father grew up in the village there was only a rickety walking bridge that often got washed out by the high waters.

Once we entered the village, everything was quieter and greener. The paved car bridge quickly turned into a dirt path which zigzagged in what seemed like a nonsensical pattern. We followed our cousins’ lead through the village towards the family home.

The family house has been in the family for over 60 years. It is the birthplace of not only my dad, but most of his relatives. Chinki (who is around 30yo) was the last one to be born in the Haathia house. As you can see in the photos below, the house oozes history.

After walking through the house, we walked over to our family’s patch of Guava trees. Although the tree patch wasn’t far, we paraded at a slow pace through the village. The fruit was hardly ripe, but both Dad and Lars tried the Guava. They found it too tough and bitter– but that didn’t stop our cousins who ate nearly the whole fruit, down to the stem.

We eventually made our way back to the family house, took a few last photos, and headed back to Azamgarh.

India Phase 2A: The Upadhyaya Homecoming

Many people do not know that my father, Alok, was born and raised in a small village in the Uttar Pradesh region of India. His village, Haathia, is across the Tamsa River, on the outskirts of Azamgarh city.

From Agra, we travelled to Varanasi– one step closer to my family’s hometown. [Varanasi sits on the Ganges River and is known in India as the Holy city.]

As I began to feel better I started to further appreciate the smells, tastes, and feels of Northern India. The air quality in the rural areas was not better, but it was easier for me to handle. Dust and dirt levels were higher, while car exhaust and burning plastic fumes were lower.

Dad’s Hindi was truly put to the test when he was coordinating our travels to his home town. After many phone calls back and forth, he concluded that his two cousins were driving to Varanasi to pick us up at 7am. We questioned why they were leaving Azamgarh (which was about 4 hours away) so early, but Dad told us not to worry. After waking up early enough to get ready and pack up our bags, my dad told us that he had misunderstood. The cousins were planning on leaving Azamgarh at 7am. This meant they wouldn’t get to Varanasi until 11 (at the earliest).

Alok’s cousins, Praveen, (also known as Hinay), and Keso, (also known as Bara Bhai, Big Brother), arrived shortly after noon. We loaded up the two cars and started our adventure towards Azamgarh. The drive was crazy. Some roads were no wider than the car’s axle, which wouldn’t have been a problem if it were not for the sharp turns and oncoming cars, cows, and bicycles. We stopped for a (much needed) break with steaming roadside chai and pakori.

We arrived at the family’s house and were greeted by Parinda with burning incense and ghee. My father was reunited with his aunt, (who is like a second mother to him), after nearly 30 years.

We all huddled closely to the table, with the rest of the family standing around our chairs, and listened to Amma tell stories.

The youngest generation of women stayed in the kitchen in order to prepare us a delicious snack of Ghughri. Amma asked Alok if he liked the Ghughri. He responded yes and told Ama that he liked the potatoes– probably because he couldn’t remember the Hindi word for green pees. She then proceeded to pick out the potatoes from the extra cup and give them to Dad. The women insisted on washing our feet, which is a tremendous sign of respect in Indian culture.

The rest of the time with family was a blur of posing for photos and communicating through a thick language barrier. Everywhere I turned, there was a flashing camera– documenting this historical reunion and first-time meeting of family members from across the globe.

We went up to the roof during sunset and watched flickering kites backdropped by a killer sunset. Once the sun set we went to the local temple with my dad’s cousin, Urchena, and her daughter Priti.

After the temple we spent some time at the other Azamgarh house. Cousin Chinki did beautiful henna for Kayla, mom, and I. We returned to the first house and were served a delicious dinner prepared by the women. We were served along Amma, however the rest of the family just gathered and watched as we ate. They refused to eat while we were eating– they made sure our well being was prioritized.