My colleague, Sona, kindly invited us to her family's beach house Christmas Day barbecue. We were feeling a little sad and homesick on Christmas Eve; Michael was still getting over the cold we've all had, and Agatha and I were missing our usual traditions and loved ones. But we were so lucky to have an invitation for Christmas Day that turned out to be a spectacular party. The house has just been renovated and is a series of four bedrooms connected with outdoor staircases and balconies, and a small kitchenette that opens to the outdoors on the ground level.
There is a second building on the site which they were using as a kitchen/storage area for the day. They plan to renovate that as well, but they are currently tied up in the courts trying to prove that there *is* a second house on the property (it's a long, confusing story).
The lunch began with amazing, spicy barbecued shrimp, chicken, and steak, and continued with giant vats of biriyani. Sona's brother explained to us that there are catering companies that just do biriyani-- you specify how many people and whether you want chicken or mutton. They make it by combining the ingredients in these giant kettles, sealing the top with dough, and then burying the pots in the ground and building a fire on top.
You scoop it out with a plate and it is still warm, hours later.
There were dozens of children there and Agatha dived right in, playing with everyone. At a certain point a bouncy castle with waterslide was erected, and all the kids got sopping wet. You could climb up on the rocky seawall and look at the water, but it was too dangerous to swim there.
Agatha worried the aunties by climbing the trees.
We talked with so many kind and interesting people, many of whom had lived abroad in the US or Australia or the UK, and were involved in international business or filmmaking or education. The family of servants was also present, including the nanny for the grown members of the family whose daughter is now the nanny to the next generation, and so on. The host family has paid the marriage dowries and school fees for the servant family for generations. We were able to ask questions about all this and have frank conversations, including, by comparison, about race and class in the US. The servant family was working hard at the party, cleaning up and making sure guests had everything they wanted, but they were also relaxing and celebrating, dressed up in fine saris. The patriarch of the servant family had planted all the gardens and had designed and built beautiful light fixtures and planters made from driftwood.
The party went on for hours. At a certain point we were encouraged to go inside and lie down to refresh ourselves. So we did!
Everyone went to the seawall to watch the sunset. Then the old and middle-aged people began leaving, though it was clear that the babies would be put to bed and the young people would keep the party going into the night. We caught a ride back to the city with a departing family member.
It was a Christmas like no other. We felt so fortunate to be gathered in and cared for by this warm and welcoming family.
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