A Day in the Life...with an Indian Future Mother-in-Law

I can barely hear myself think as the plumbers in my bathroom repetitiously bang away at something; it sounds like they are tearing down the entire wall as they speak furiously in Spanish to each other. Then there is Mrs. Singh in the next room doing her pooja; praying over candles and statues of gods on top of our very attractive, plastic storage cabinet. All I can hear over the clanging, her quickly and rhythmically mumbling Hindi prayers. But, of course, that is not all the music I can hear from my little desk in the corner. Then there is the excruciatingly loud hissing that is coming from the kitchen as the pressure cooker, as if it is about to take off and sail around the room expelling rice and steam, screeches and whines on the burner. Needless to say, I can barely write this right now.

I am listening to three different languages while I try to write in another. The Spanish from the plumbers, the Hindi from my boyfriend's mother, and the yelling from the rice in the kitchen. The Spanish could be understandable after my four years in High School, but is so mumbled and fast, covered by all the other sounds, that I have no idea. The Hindi, I am still working on, and as for the rice, I have no idea how to work a pressure cooker. So, I sit here, the only noise I am making is the tapping of the keyboard and an occasional click of the mouse.

Aha! The banging has stopped, the pooja is finished, and the rice has calmed down. Of course, this quiet will not stay for long. Now, I hear the Hindi songs coming from the bedroom. Mrs. Singh is now singing along to some old tunes from the mother country as begins to cook lunch. The plumber said his goodbye, but he will be back to bang some more. Now I am sitting here thinking, "How fast can I get out of here?" But then I remember that I should go for a run, take a shower, finishing some cleaning, and then eat lunch with Momma Singh.

to be continued tomorrow....