August 2004 Archives

Bad Service leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

A couple of days back I decided to go to this fabric store in Berkeley that I had heard a lot about. I was really excited that I might actually find some really cool fabric to cover the tables with at the wedding reception. My expectation was that I would have this incredible shopping experience where my eyes would be opened to the many varieties of fabric by people who knew all about it. I didn't think I was wrong to expect such delightful service from an independent, been-around-forever, very Berkeley store. After all their website did say "Our knowledgeable and friendly staff would love to help with your next project!"

What really happened was that when I asked a question, I was replied to very directly and uninterestedly. In yes and no, monosyllabic style. The wisdom and warmth that I hoped would overflow was absent. This while other customers were being attended to with a little more interest. At least that is what I perceived it as. Usually I am able to remind myself that it is possible that the person was having a bad day and that it wasn't personal. But when you can see and hear the judgemental look it is difficult to not take it personally.

The first thing that strikes me is that I am being treated in this way because of the color of my skin or maybe because I am perceived to be a foreigner. Usually I would tell myself that I will just go back to my own country where I wouldn't be treated in this way. Atleast that provided a sort of solace that I did not have to take this sh**. Now, knowing that I am going to be here probably for the rest of my life I can't even use that excuse anymore.

But then I think about bad service I have received in my own country. Then, my logic was that maybe I didn't appear rich enough or wasn't dressed well enough.

What makes me really mad about this particular store is the fact that on paper this is exactly the kind of store I would like to support--independent, embedded in community and all that. I can't blame this behavior on the fact that it is a chain or anything like that.

Rant, rant, rant. Well maybe I'll give them one more try. But no more.

On a lighter note, I know better than to complain at restaurants, after hearing about a lot of urban legends about what happens to one's food if one dares to complain at a food establishment. If you have seen Fight Club you know what I am talking about.

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Life feels like a constant blur. Days fly by as deadlines come closer.
Number of days until my parents are here: 3
Number of times they have been to California: 0
Number of times my mom has been to the US: 0
Number of months since I saw them last: 16
Number of years since I have lived with them: 11
Number of months Anirvan and I have been dating: 16
Number days to being married: 10
Number of days that Anirvan will know my parents in person before they become his inlaws: 4
Number of wedding ceremonies we will be having: 3
Number of wedding related events: 5

Being confronted by death is never easy. Having it be the death of a person you respected and whose presence you knew could be life-changing is even more distressing. Irene Pijoan died yesterday morning.

She was an amazing artist who was working with us to develop the art component of Soma Park. More than a year back, when I first saw Irene's art I felt really emotional about it. Her art conveyed a certain flow of spirit. Her designs had a strong aesthetic but the medium, which was paper gave it a fragile quality that brought to surface unspeakable emotions. It's a cliche to say this probably but she was also this amazing person. Creative, spirited, strong and beautiful. She had been suffering from cancer for the last five years. But when I first met her I could not tell that she had been through so much. The last few times that I saw her, her cancer seemed to be more of a reality for me. But there was nothing that could have prepared me for this. This is the time that I wish I had done this or that. I wish I had had the opportunity to speak to her just one more time. I wish that the project had gone ahead more smoothly and that she had had the opportunity to see her work being realized.

It is difficult to put into words what this all means. It is strange how death often puts life into perspective.

I hope I have the strength to take her work and do my part to enable it's realization. She would have wanted it that way. I know this because last week, even as she was wasting away she met with her assistant so she could give her complete instructions on how to proceed so the project could be completed.

We just got back from the San Francisco Mime Troupe's latest show- Showdown at Crawford Gulch. It was really quite good. Even Anirvan's high school friend John, who is visiting from out of town and went to see the show with us thought so..and he is self proclaimed Republican!

I appreciated the subtlety in this years show more than last years which had felt a little too tired in its jokes about the same people and issues. But trust the current administration to always provide enough material for the troupe to take off on. The act abounded with references to the war on terror, media sellout, abu gharaib and the upcoming elections. Definitely a must see.

On the way back from Live Oak Park where the troupe was playing, we scored on a black Ikea sofa/ chair for just $9! The chair has 2 wheels infront instead of legs- weird, but still a deal for that amount. John and Anirvan carried it back to the house, which thankfully was only a few blocks away. It fits quite well in the room even if I say so myself.

I will return with stories from time spent fighting off Chicken Pox!!