1). Surprisingly is the same as hers (and I never thought it would be hers) – procrastination is the biggest evil in my life “still”.

2). Suspending this blog AGAIN

3). Exercising – still procrastinating over this one.

4). Cancelling plans to do personal projects

5). Keeping my bicycle in status quo – with a flat tyre

6). Keeping the apartment dirty

7). Same as Sindhu

8). Eating unhealthy sweet things

9). Not creating a proper plan for what I want to achieve at work or in life in the year

10). Eating out instead of cooking even when there is time

Wow! That was not easy … Try doing it – so much easier to write about what to do. The biggest avoid I should avoid – avoid following the above.

I thought hard – after coming back, my restaurant life has been limited to this group of friends with whom I go out at least once a month – all of us to escape from our normal life and for plenty of laugh. This also invariably means we always draw curious glances from the other patrons for not just looking different. It has also become a ritual to stay until the restaurant tires of us and informs us it is time to close. We normally look at each other and ask for the bill reluctantly. It is time to go back to real life – each of us will be forced to wake up quickly – others by their small children and me by my very erratic body clock.

So when we need to think of finding a restaurant 15 minutes before our appointment, it is really not easy to find one. For one, the environment has to be really good. What does good mean? – It could mean exotic or rusty or modern or local or elegant or … you get the picture. NO Subway, NO McDonalds, NO normal Starbucks, NO cafes on the Hauptstrasse of Heidelberg – but if it is a restaurant on the Hauptstrasse with “that” feeling, it is a different matter – AND NO INDIAN RESTAURANTS. Oh! I forgot to mention – the food has to be good. The person choosing the restaurant has to guarantee the quality of food.

So 15 minutes before, all dressed in a pink top with white skirt, I sit browsing the web. For each restaurant I find, I call V to check whether that is a good one.

Finally I remember Juice in Heidelberg – the party hosted by a friend was great – the place “seemed” to be amazing (it was more than a year back). The food – I had no clue since he had ordered privately. “Let’s take the risk” – said V. I called to make a reservation – “There is place only on the long table” – said the guy who answered – “Is that ok?”. Of course.

We walk into the restaurant. It is as I remember it – from outside you get the feeling it is closed but if you look carefully through the window, you will get some glimpses into the life inside. The modern mixed with rustic look captures my eye. The restaurant is separated into three parts with the decor. The long table is in the middle part and close to the bar AND wooden.The 5 of us try to squeeze into the table. We are presented with the menu (the special menu is also chalked on the blackboard running along the wall in the middle). The shining metal goblets of lights hanging over each table reflect the restaurant.

Each of us orders the drinks and the food and wait patiently. At 9:00 in the evening, we are all very hungry. The waiters are friendly, advice us, laugh with this crazy bunch of girls, help us to change the table when a private one becomes free and brings a comfortable chair for “N” from the other end of the restaurant. This care continues all evening.

The cocktails arrive, they are the best I have had since coming back. We decide on pastas and burgers. “A” decides not to order pasta with prawns in it “They will just put so few of them into it that only pasta will remain and I will be disappointed” – she said and we sympathized – we know how it is with restaurants. V orders what “A” rejected.

One of the best burgers I have had in my life makes me finish the whole plate – as usual I do not touch the french fries. The pasta portions are large – the number of prawns are double what “A” predicted and more than enough for the amount of pasta. I help “N” to finish her pasta. A voice says from the back “You should not share your pasta – you have to eat for two” – the waiter stands smiling at “N” who is expecting her baby next month.

We order more drinks and dessert. It is kitchen closing time – there are no desserts than Crème brûlée. We order Crème brûlée for all of us which they agree to make though kitchen has closed. As I am not too fond of Crème brûlée anyway, I liked this one as much as the previous ones I have had – my friends who normally love it said it did not pass the test. Except for this one glitch and “V”s last drink (the name of the drink had “herbs” and it tasted like it did), the whole evening was great.

At 1:05 a.m the only other remaining guests left. We wondered whether we should leave. “We will take some time to finish the work required to close the restaurant – you can stay until then” – after the normal experiences of getting kicked out exactly at the closing hour, this is a refreshing change. We stay chatting – “Maybe we should stay here until breakfast”. They have a breakfast which is supposed to be excellent too. (Photo courtsey for first and last ones Juice facebook page).

The year started with Vishu, the new year for the Hindu Malayalees that normally falls on April 14-th but might be on April 15-th at times. I went and got yellow flowers, some traditional fruits and arranged them the night before with the lamp that would be lit the next morning. There was nothing unusual in this. I celebrate Vishu every year. The morning “Vishukani” is seen, I go to work, come back and keep everything back in their place. The fruits are consumed, the flowers dry up in due course and finds its way into the Biomüll – the garbage for bio degradable substances. The same happened this year.

The other festivals however took up much more effort and went on for a few days.

I started Onam celebrations 10 days before with the first day of “Atham” on the Hindu calendar. The one line of athapoo or the flower carpet grew day by day to 10 circles on day 10. Each day I removed the flowers of the previous day, cleaned the floor, laid new carpet. Every alternate day I bought flowers for the next two days. From day 7, I had to buy more varieties and daily. My husband watched in trepidation as the wallet grew empty. Not expecting me to continue all days, he did not raise a murmur initially. He got caught up in it too as the days went. Separating the petals from the stem, he said “I had forgotten what flowers felt and smelt like”. While Euros disappeared, the time to create the carpet increased as well. The delay resulted in delay to work but with flexible time at work, it did not matter. The spirit stayed. My cleaning lady balanced herself around my carpet to enter the apartment and swayed on her toes to open the door with her key. On the 11-th day, a break from tradition due to office,  we invited friends home and had the Onam feast on ceramic places.

On the 12-th day, I was bereft. There were no flowers, no carpet… Life was back to normal.

When my sister and nephew decided to visit, my mother warned me. “My grandson has a Christmas tree every year – make sure he does not miss it”. Thus started the scrambling to understand the culture behind Christmas trees, the conditions a tree should meet, what is the size (arguments ensued), what type of decorations and the list goes on. The shopping started. The tree was bought the weekend before he reached – a small little conical tree that neatly fit below our sloping roof. As we went out to more Christmas markts, the more trinkets I bought for the tree. I invited my friend Sindhu’s daughter to help to decorate the tree with my nephew. The two of them made it a pretty picture. So went the successful tree story – “The tree must be the most valuable thing in the house today” – declared my husband after we had decorated it.

The Christmas came, we put up the stocking that were filled by Santa with many gifts – the gleeful look on the face of the little one made it all worthwhile. The visitors left back for the normal life. In Germany, Christmas trees stay until the “Dreikönigstag” when the Magi is celebrated – we awaited the Magi too. The Christmas tree stood it in corner. Life continued for us in the rest of the house.

Yesterday, I slowly plucked the trinkets and the light out of the Christmas tree. We battled the tree to cover it up with the plastic sheets to prevent the leaves from falling on the landing or in the car.

Braving the wind and rain, we drove to IKEA where we got stuck in the mile long traffic – “Everyone is returning the Christmas tree”. My husband dragged the Christmas tree from the trunk and came back with a gift voucher.

“There was a match going on – who can fling the tree the furthest. They did not ask me to participate – because of the plastic. With that completely packed one I could have flung it far” – he said, climbing into the car. We drove back and entered the house – the corner stood empty, quiet and white instead of green and red. Life is back to normal again.

As I do this, I travel through all those times in the year which were very interesting. It makes me realize that there was a reason why the year flew quickly. It also makes me wonder – how did the year fly past so quickly. Yet, sometimes there is the feeling of “did that really happen this year?”

Here I list some of that really stood out in my mind – perhaps there are many others that should come up but it evades me at the moment:

• Discoveries of the year: Theater im Pfalzbau, Shruti – a magazine on classical music and dance from South India, Art India – a magazine on art scene in India (mainly Mumbai and Delhi), Schauberg Cinema in Karlsruhe, IWC/BWC founded by a group of friends (what it means stays a mystery), Icebar in Oslo

• Culture: Maria Pages Flamenco, Puppet shows in Wiesloch, Book fair in Leipzig, Passaporta festival in Brussels including the final talk by Orhan Pamuk (who was surprisingly grandfather like), Willi Dorner in Heilbronn, Sakai Juku at Heilbronn, Wein and Honig fest in Krassolzheim, Angelbachtal Light festival, Garden festival in Wiesloch, Afrikafest in Heidelberg, Light festival at Schwetzingen palace gardens, fish festival in Wiesloch, Middle ages festival at Angelbachtal, celebrating Onam, Diwali and Christmas seriously, Heidelberg photofestival, Sandpainting, Saint Madonna festival at Lezzano in Italy and reading stories in German to children at the Christmas markt in Wiesloch and Flamenco in a small Kabarett in Mannheim

• Sports: Discovery of Ice Hockey

• Travel: Norway, Bonn, Lausanne, Leipzig, Brussels (many times), Heidelberg with the many visitors, Heilbronn, Turkish corner in Mannheim (that transported me right into the midst of Kerala jewelry stores and middle east restaurants), US Washington and Luray caves, Como & Lezzano in Italy, Bobenheim am berg, Michelstadt…

• Events: Tsunami, Book Reading by my uncle at Bonn, Leipzig book fair, Anna Hazare hype in India, breakdown of Indian political system, Greek/Italian/Spanish meltdowns, Obama mania fading away to be replaced by… (uh! no one yet), Lunar eclipse, Discovery of the old photos in the albums my parents rescued from our apartment in India, Flugtag at Walldorf

Over the year, I started writing about some of these events but never got around to actually writing them. There are still many more events and many more aspects of the local culture to explore. In the meantime, I would like to wish everyone a wonderful 2012. While 2011 has been a dry year for the blog, I look forward to writing more in 2012.

Language:

It is a long time since I have been in a country where I do not understand the language. Having lived in Belgium, I can, now, understand traces of French and Dutch and basically understand which topic the conversation is about. I have the feeling, now when I travel to France and Netherlands, that I can get simple things done even without making the locals speak English. I do not even remember the last time I was in a place where I could not get a grip on the language.

When I landed in Oslo and walked around the town, I was happy to be in this strange environment again where I could not eavesdrop into other people’s conversation in the effort to see whether I could understand it. I did not even know the word for “Hello” or for “Thank you”. “Merci”, I told one person in the shop after sorting out many different languages in my head. The expression on my husband’s and the shopkeeper’s face told me that it was not the right word (he spoke English). So I was in a place that was truly “alien” to me. I could focus just on the fact that I was “different” and I was not becoming one of them. I started focusing on making it more familiar and getting to know the place without really knowing the language.

Oh! Don’t get me wrong – ALL Norwegians speak very good English and so it will not be difficult to “converse” with them and get by here. You do not need to know Norwegian to travel here – unlike in France, Spain and Italy where knowing local language helps.

Fascination for the old:

Local TVs give a glimpse of the decorative sensitivities of a country. Today, I was switching channels while waiting for hubby to finish his bath. I chanced upon a talk show. The show was in Norwegian. What happens, when you do not know what people are talking about, is you start focusing on other factors of the show. It was thus that I caught a glimpse of the old antique boat hung on the sets behind the interviewer. “There is something about Norway and old things” – was the thought that came into my mind.

When in Oslo, my cousin wanted to visit a museum. So we went to the Folksmuseum in Oslo. The museum has a permanent outdoor exhibition of old buildings set in “original” settings – old houses, old church, old farms, old school and the list goes on. It was our first exposure to effort at preserving and bringing the historical “normal” life to today’s generation. As we drove across the country from east to west, we crossed several towns. Some towns had a Folksmuseum. While we did not stop there, I was again struck by the interest in old things.

Later, we crossed a church covered in a blue sheet – I went to take a photograph and saw a description on old buildings preserved in the area and where we could see them. When we were researching which town we should stay overnight, we came across this old hotel – it has been a hotel from 1770. We arrived here to find the hotel with its ancient interiors preserved. The lady working there told us the stories – “I realized the morning after my first night, spent in fear, that the ghosts were really friendly”. It reminded me of Thelma, a book that had charmed me in my childhood, where the spirits around the fjords first caught my imagination.

Many other European countries also preserve the old things but what stands out for most tourists or becomes famous are the palaces and the grandiose life that existed long back like the castles in Britain. The Folksmuseum in Oslo had a small exhibition, non-permanent, dedicated to these aspects.

At the end of it, perhaps Norway has something to offer everyone and considering that I skipped the Vikings museum – it must be my eye trying to catch just old things that are kept out for display. Nevertheless, when we travel to other countries, it is difficult for me to find “normal” life preserved even when I go looking for it. In Norway, I do not have to look for it far – it seems as though Norwegians want to showcase what I want to see – a language I do not know and life in the past I can relate to. It seems as though Norwegians wants to hang on and handover these old traditions and cultures.

In the meantime it is not as if there is a big vacuum of topics – I have been collecting materials left right and center. I went for Flamenco dance again by Maria Pages, two puppet shows – one Augsburger Kasperle played by a couple and another more sophisticated Indonesian shadow puppet show, Wayang, on Ghatotkacha.  My hands itched to write about it – I researched about it and when I thought about writing, my whole mind went completely blank.

In the meantime, I tried my hand at cooking, listened to old cassettes found back when two households became one, started subscription to the Financial Times again – waiting patiently to hold the crisp newspaper in the hand again. The weekend section of the financial times still held the same charm – the latest one talked about Iran and the mysterious deaths of its nuclear scientists reminding me of an unfinished book in my cupboard on the history of Iran.

This weekend, due to the tail end of fever, I skipped four possible events – one a concert of Viola Gamba & Cembalo which I really wanted to go to, the carnival at Oberkirch in Blackforest, the circus which has come to our little towns and the slide show on Hurtigruten, the cruise on fjords of Norway – the second time I am missing it.

On the whole if I thought I will miss cultural aspects by leaving Brussels, that is not entirely true.

The stats helper monkeys at WordPress.com mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:

The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads Wow.

Crunchy numbers

A Boeing 747-400 passenger jet can hold 416 passengers. This blog was viewed about 1,300 times in 2010. That’s about 3 full 747s.

In 2010, there were 22 new posts, growing the total archive of this blog to 48 posts. There were 62 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 54mb. That’s about 1 pictures per week.

The busiest day of the year was February 19th with 31 views. The most popular post that day was Issues in life… 72 days to go.

Where did they come from?

The top referring sites in 2010 were r1rk9np7bpcsfoeekl0khkd2juj27q3o.a.friendconnect.gmodules.com, sitemeter.com, thotflow.blogspot.com, amateurishwriting.blogspot.com, and hornswoggle.blogspot.com.

Some visitors came searching, mostly for lesse, lesse kayak, la lesse, headless chicken, and ladder walk rochehaut.

Attractions in 2010

These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.

Issues in life… 72 days to go February 2010
10 comments

Unemployed – Chronicles no. 1 June 2010
9 comments

Eerie clear skies April 2010
4 comments

Cheese and me… October 2010
5 comments

Calm and quiet childhood January 2010
6 comments

One evening I saw my two favourite trees at the entrance of my office building turn into beautiful red/yellow paintings. “Peter”, I wrote to my teammate of 8 years ago who lives in Silicon valley now, “Our trees have turned into pretty damsels again – I will send you the pictures”. Next morning I stood with my camera to take the pictures and stared at the naked branches in dismay.

This week the temperature went up again. The leaves have remained colourful much longer than ever before. In my drive to my friend’s Halloween party at Brussels, I looked around much more than I normally do – “Autumn is dangerous” I sang in my mind – “imagine all drivers looking at the colourful trees rather than at the highway” – and I increased the pressure on the right pedal. 230 km/h my speedometer said – I gasped thinking of all comments when I tell my family this. Ah! There I catch another pattern – cyprus trees with their dark green leaves framed the patch of yellow and red leaves atop a hill. I missed my camera desperately.

“Will there be another autumn like this?” I wonder, I hope while I hear my windows creak and groan. I better ensure my cameras are on hand next time.

The other day I was walking outside our house – suddenly I looked at the lion outside our house. “Is he losing weight as the winter is approaching?” – I asked myself. It was a very short reflection of what normally happens to me. Like a metals contract in cold, I lose weight (I am talking here about 0.5 – 1 kg) in winter and gain back double the amount in summer.

Doesn’t he look fierce in summer?