Wheres The Party At?

My sister had a birthday party for her 3year old this Sunday.
Sure that sentence sounds simple and straight-forward enough, but if you know anything about my sister Aadilah you would know that nothing is ever simple or straight-forward. She's a perfectionist of note. She's such a perfectionist, Martha Stewart calls her to get approval before she releases a new book or DVD.

So anyways, the theme of the party was "Fairies & Pixies".
This pic is of Sabreen in her Fairy outfit. I'm hoping you figured that out already. If you haven't, this is where you move on to the puzzle section of the blog.

Anyways, we get there at around 2pm and I suddenly realize that my sis wasn't lying about having 150 guests over. We're an Indian family, so any function of less than 100 people is technically not a planned event. My wedding was 1000 people (and every seat was taken), our average weekend braai is 20-30 people. So a birthday party for a 3year old with 150 people is not unusual in the least bit.

Now the one thing I love about Aadilah is that she's probably the most level-headed person in my entire family. She's 9 years younger than I am, but tends to be the glue that binds us all together. I'm more of the sledgehammer that pulverizes everything into smithereens, then asks for super-glue to put it all together afterward. Thats when Aadiah comes in.
So at the party there were a few people I hadn't seen for years, and some I never thought I'd ever see again.
Like my step-dad (who's Aadilah's real dad.) Yeah it's complicated,but then which family isn't?
Now I haven't spoken to him since the day I got married, over 10 years ago!
Of course I knew I couldn't ignore him all afternoon, so I figured I'll just bite the bullet and go chat to him. I thought I'd take my lead based on his response.

Here's a transcript of that encounter:

Me: Salaam. How you doing? (I wasn't sure what to call him, so I left that section blank. I considered "Bob" but decided against it.)
Him : Salaam. I'm good. What's this? *pinches my stomach*
Me : 2 inches lower and you'll have to wash your hands Mister!
Him : What?!
Me : Oh... I was just saying I need to lose a few inches down below.
Him : Yes you do.
*awkward silence.... sound of crickets.... more awkward silence...*
Me : All right then. We gotta do this again sometime. Salaam.

So here's the thing.. What do you call your ex-step-dad whom you haven't seen for like 10 years?
It wasn't so much an awkward moment as it was weird.

Ok maybe not as weird as when I met one half of my twin-cousins whom I haven't seen for ... oh wait, also 10 years. The fact that they're from step-dad's family could have something to do with that.
Now anybody who knows me knows I'm horrible with remembering names.

Here's a transcript of that encounter:

Twin-Cousin : Hey Fareed!! So good to see you. How have you been?
Me : Heeey!! *trying to remember her name, and drawing a blank* Yeah I'm good! Great to see you again!
Twin-cousin : It's been too long. We were just talking about you the other day?
Me : *suddenly remembers that one's name is Aysha & the other's name is Yasmin, but not sure which one this is I'm talking to* That's true! We should get together more often. How's Aysha? *figures I have a 50% chance of getting the name right*
Twin-cousin : I'm Aysha!
Me : *Damn! Blew that chance!* I knew that. I was speaking in the 3rd person.
Twin-cousin : hhmm... *thinks I've become retarded since she last saw me* Aysha's good I suppose.
*awkward silence.... more crickets...*
Me : Oh look, cake! Spot you later.

Well at every social gathering there's always that one old crazy dude that everybody hides from when he heads your way. I never knew who that dude was until he came to sit next to me, and I looked around me and wondered where everybody went.
I was watching the soccer on the telly at the time, so I really wasn't concentrating on my environment. In hindsight I should have stood up to leave when everyone else suddenly did, instead of sitting there thinking "Where's the fire?"
So Old Geezer sit's next to me and I politely smile at him.
We're both there watching the soccer when suddenly he makes a racist joke. I look around and see nobody else in the room. So here's my dilemma : Do I laugh and be polite, do I give him a piece of my mind only to find out later he's the grand-uncle of my brother-in-law and Godfather to my niece, or do I pretend I didn't hear him?
So I pretended I was choking on a chicken-bone *odd though coz this was a kiddies party, and there was no chicken served* and ran for the bathroom.

Evidently I'm fun to have around at social gatherings, even if I have a knack of getting myself into the weirdest situations.

You Know You're Indian When...

This post is dedicated to all the Indian women from Durban now living in Jo'Burg.

You Know You're Indian When
1) You have all your samoosas and pies sent to you from your mom in Durban.
2) You travel to Durban once a month religiously to collect your spices, from said mother, coz Lord knows Jo'burg doesn't have any spices.
3) You call your mom every night to tell her about your day, and catch up on the gossip back home.
4) Your mom asks you every night what you cooked for supper.
5) You always ask what the weather in Durban is like, and complain about how bitterly cold Jo'burg is, even if it's during the middle of a heatwave in summer.
6) While seated at a wedding with the rest of your family, you discuss the softness/ hardness of the potatoes in the biryani, and the hideous garments worn by the opposite parties family.
7) You know the number of the lady who makes roti's, but need to search frantically for the alarm companies number.
8) The Pakistani guy you buy your dvd's from in Fordsburg is regarded as family,and he knows the name of all your sisters and aunts.
9) There is an immense sense of pride about being born in Durban, but Lord have mercy if your kids come back from an afternoon at a posh private school in Joburg with a Durban accent.
10) You know you're an Indian if you answered "Yes" to at least 3 of the above.