What if we could find our way to the hearts of the Korean people through their empty bellies? Clearly, their leader is feeling like a trapped animal, making himself as big, angry, and dangerous as he can get. Surely the way ahead is best paved by kindness, not nuclear threats and enlarging the already ghastly and over-stuffed arsenals in too many parts of the world. We've been down this road before. No one is made to feel safe with atomic bombs at the ready. Huge sleep disrupter. Am I alone in this worry?
I say: Illumined Platonic Relationships trump Illogical Plutonium Reliance.
My worry is that Trump favors the latter.
* * * * * * * * *
The first traditional Indian wedding we've been to in our forty-five years together united Rebecca, a young woman we've known since she was barely three years old, and her beloved husband Jateen, this past Saturday. Her family moved from New Orleans to California forty years ago. His family emigrated from the West coast of India one hundred years ago to the East Coast of Africa. His people are multi-lingual, speaking several dialects from Tanzania, Uganda, Gujarat, Goa, and Mumbai, in addition to English. Several of his relatives came to the wedding from the United Kingdom.
The groom's father Manesh is a Brahmin Priest and conducted the exquisitely colorful ceremony at the Livermore Veteran's Memorial Hall. How lovely to be included in the celebration. And, it was ten minutes down the road from the camp where we spent the rest of the weekend in support of lovely families challenged by pediatric brain tumors. (Love kids. Hate Cancer. Love weddings. Minimal drive a bonus!)
Friday afternoon, as my hugsband (oh, I like that typo) and I made our way from home in Oakland to camp in Livermore, the bride and her mama phoned. They were also on the road, but from Los Angeles to San Francisco, where the bride now lives. They wanted to know if I'd be willing to offer a blessing during the ceremony. YES! Of course, I said, I'd be honored.
When the time came on Saturday for a few of the women from both sides of the family to offer blessings and words of wisdom to her, Rebecca was seated on stage to Jateen's right. Rice and rose petals scattered the floor. All were barefoot. Backstage, three old friends of the parents were instructed to remove our shoes and follow what the sari-wearing older sisters of the groom were doing. I was the first of the "aunties" to go forward. I dipped my right ring finger into the pomegranate-red blessing paste and put a dot on Rebecca's hand. (Her forehead was already covered with similar bindi dots.) Then I sprinkled her hand with rice and fed her a bit of sweet candy. Following the sisters' lead, I took another bit of rice from the tray of ceremonial components and walked behind the bride, sprinkling the rice on her lap as I whispered a blessing and words of wisdom into her left ear. I wonder if Jateen could also hear my wishes for happiness, bliss, truth, and lots of laughter for them.
The entire afternoon and evening were a blend of elegance and homespun cozy. Gold-trimmed silk saris dominated the fashion mix. Children were running and playing. The couple had asked a friend and her team to be servers at the fabulous buffet of Indian delicacies. There was a Swing Dance Lesson and a wonderful mix of music, including traditional Indian and New Orleans jazz.
One of my favorite parts of the day involved practicing the rock step, s-t-e-p, s-t-e-p of the lesson while rocking a five month old in my arms. I put him out cold. After his mama and papa navigated the long buffet line and settled to eat their dinner, I put the baby gently in his car seat next to them. Love babies! Hate ear-splittingly- loud music.
It was also amazing to be able to carry on a conversation with our friend Henry, the father of the bride, despite the din. This father of three is becoming politically active in his retired years. His three grandchildren are of mixed race, one son-in-law is African American, his new son-in-law is from India by way of Africa, and the partner of his youngest child, who is gay, is from Australia. Henry's family has much to fear and possibly lose if the current administration has its way with immigration laws and notions of the far right as to what family should look like. I'm grateful for his stepping up to the plate.
May we all find the courage to do what will serve the whole of humanity while resisting division, scare tactics, environmental degradation, moves to increase only the highest strata's bank accounts, and the founding of The Oligarchical States of America.
May all be well and the only mushrooms we get from this (not my) Presidential (not) Fun Guy are the kind we can eat.
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