The Highlight Reel: Chris & Minny's Favorite Moments

Dear Friends,

The trip has come to an end. I know I sort of petered out on posting that last week, for which I apologize profusely to those who have been avid readers, commenters, and sharers, but I really did need to take an actual holiday and decompress. (I'm finally relaxed -- just in time to go back to work!)

But of course, we couldn't sign off without one last post about our trip, as well as some much-deserved shout-outs and thank-yous to the people who helped make this trip so much fun. So here it is -- our top five list of our favorite moments, many of which you will all probably hear in the coming months since Chris and I both love to repeat our stories.

Chris & Minny's Top 5 Favorite Moments:

1. Adding British and Indian English words to our vocabulary.
Pardon, do you know where my jumper is? Or where I can find a plug point to charge my phone? Forget the Guardian's list of Indian English words to know; Chris and I have our own language now, comprised of words and phrases that made us smile throughout our trip. My favorite expression I saw last year -- Follow Lane Discipline. Only Indians will use the word discipline on a street sign. (And then ignore the sign completely, btw.)

Chris's favorite new words because of their ubiquity are veg and non-veg. And for that matter, Coorg and non-Coorg. "I'm non-Coorg, by the way," he says.

2. The Food!
True to my predictions, Chris didn't lose weight or get dysentery, as many of his American friends told him he would. That's because my family knows how to eat. And feed guests. Which is why we both gained at least 10 pounds in the last two weeks.

There are many people to thank for our weight gain, all of whom are named below, but the biggest thank-you goes to my mother, Amrit Bopaiah. "I know she ran a lot of interference to make sure the food was to my liking," Chris says. "And relatively onion-free." (Chris doesn't like onions. I can't tell you how hard onions are to avoid in Indian cooking.)

3. Chris's love of (and susceptibility to) Indian marketing.
I often joke that Chris is the target market for every advertising campaign in the US. I've never seen someone so enthusiastically fall for a label saying "Try it!" on a scented candle or packet of Oreos.

But it turns out his love and susceptibility for great marketing is global. I knew he'd like Thumbs Up, but didn't think he'd want to bring back seven bars of soap (3 Pears and 4 sandalwood-scented). He also brought back cans of Badam almond drink, and regretted not having space for more carved wooden elephants and riksha magnets. I was able to stave off any additions to his snow globe collection by buying him a snow globe of the Taj Mahal last September. But I suspect this is a temporary solution, and I will soon need to find a separate room for all his kitsch.

For the record, there were some misses. Fizz Jeera Masala soda did not go over well. Neither did sweet lime drink, which surprised me. But I'm pretty sure that the minute someone in India figures out how to bottle and preserve sugar cane juice, Chris will be their biggest customer.

4. Chris's remarkable cultural sensitivity.
It's worth mentioning that Chris read every post before I published them. Which clearly shows that he's a good sport. He rarely did more than correct a typo, and never asked me not to write about something. I am incredibly grateful for this as a writer because it sets me free to be funny and write as I see the world.

The only time he asked for changes was when we wrote about his visit to the Gonikoppa fire station, and that was for good reason. He objected to publishing photos that made it look like he was explaining firefighting to the Gonikoppa firefighters. He knew the story was about the Indian experience of firefighting, not a comparison to subtly demonstrate the West's dominance in civil infrastructure and resources.

I am at a loss for words for how much his humility impresses me.

5. Having you all follow along!
This trip to India has been one of my favorites, and I think a big part of that was having our families and friends follow along on social media and this blog. We both hope that we've been entertaining without being blowhards or braggarts. We'd also like to thank everyone who liked, shared, commented, read or simply smiled over our ridiculous postings.


We also need to thank some people by name:

• First and foremost, Amrit Bopaiah, for doing the lion's share of trip planning. My mother researched ticket prices, planned our itinerary, used points to get us great hotel deals, and basically catered to our every gastronomical desire. Thanks Mom for making this trip so enjoyable and easy. I'm not sure Chris will be able to travel without expecting three course meals from now on.
• My dad, Vinod Bopaiah for vaccinating Chris against Hep A and typhoid. JIC. 
• My cousins, Cary Bopiah and Anishya Kumar (Bopiah), for putting us up in London and starting us off on The Great Eating Tour of 2016. (Really, if you're in the UK, go buy some of Anishya's ready-made meals.) Also, their kids are pure cuddly adorableness.
• Kutts Bittiananda, his wife Anu Mahajan, Sita Aunty and Hector for a wonderful "Welcome to India" dinner our first night in Bangalore.
• My uncle, Raghu Uthappa, the Godfather of Coorg, who knew everyone and left no string unpulled to give us a great experience during our one week in Coorg.
• My other uncle, Vivek Bopiah, and his wife Tina Bopiah, who entertained us in Bangalore with their stories and humorous anecdotes. 
• Mohan Uncle and Preeth Aunty, as well as their daughter Pooja and her husband Jason, for treating us to a fabulous dinner in Bangalore.
• My cousins, Berry and Praveen, Aisha and Rohit, for capping off our last day in India with a fabulous lunch and dinner and letting us stay in your beautiful home while your son was in the middle of exams. We can't wait to see you and the kids in the U.S. in May. It might be the next installment of this travel log that Carol Price is already asking for. 
• My cousin, Tilly Bopiah, for paving the way for me to bring a white guy I'm not married to to Coorg. Thanks for being such a trail blazer, cuz. I promise Chris and I are going to make it to Paris soon to visit.
• Carol and George Price, for trying hard not to freak out as I dragged their son halfway around the world, and for being incredibly supportive of my writing. I hear that Mrs. Price has shared this blog with numerous friends and families not on social media, and I hope you have all been as entertained as we have.
• Geoff Olds and Matt Sexauer for submitting great questions for Chris to answer.
• Oscar Grajales for being the type of guy who can appreciate depth and humor at the same time.
• Arlene Hardy for being a frequent commenter, even when she wasn't sure she "understood what a blog is." We love you, Mrs. Hardy!!
• Jen Hardy Steiling, Chris Steiling and Elizabeth Price, for also being frequent commenters and Chris's biggest fans. And for taking me into the fold.
• Lauren Cross, who took my recording of a Coorg morning and turned it into a one-hour stereo broadcast. (I'll let you all know when I upload it to iTunes.)
• Karen Drachler for helping steer Chris through the Indian tourist visa process.
• Justin Brown for lending Chris a backpack that made him look sexy.
• Gabrielle Zevin and Jenny Colgan, for respectively writing The Storied Life of A.J Fikry and The Little Shop of Happy Ever After, two books that made a long plane ride enjoyable and reminded me of how much I want to own a bookstore one of these days. And while we're on the topic of thanking authors, I should also thank Brene Brown and Elizabeth Gilbert for Daring Greatly and Big Magic, both of which gave me the courage to write on this blog again.
• Last but definitely not least, Chris Price, who never complained about the hardships on this trip and never acts like I need to seek his permission before doing whatever I want, including turning him into a caricature for the amusement of our friends and family. There are many other nice things I could say, but wouldn't that be boring...

Q&A with Chris Price After 48 Hours in India

Thanks to everyone who's been following this crazy trip on social media (#chrisandminny). Some of you seem more interested in Chris's impressions of India than in my perspective on what it's like traveling with him, so in the words of George Price, know your audience and give them what they want.

We caught up with Chris in a luxurious suite at the J.W. Marriot (thanks Mom!) at 5am when neither he nor I could sleep because of jet lag.

MB: So Chris, what's been your favorite part of this trip so far?

CP: The food.

MB: Anything in particular?

CP: Umm...no.

MB: You're making this difficult. Give more full answers.

CP: Well, let me think about it baby.

[Chris fiddles with the Lavazza machine for about 3 minutes, trying to make an espresso.]

I love the fact that when it comes to the food, everything is either really sweet or really spicey.

MB: Is there anything about Indian culture that you'd like to export to America?

CP:  I'm not sure I have enough sample size of that. But...I'd say the nonstop aggressive driving without any real aggression in it.

MB: I know it's nice how you can shout at people without worrying about anyone pulling a gun.

CP: Or even just being that upset by it.

MB: What's been the most difficult thing to adjust to?

CP: It's been truly hot for me, and I know this isn't as hot as it gets.

MB: Who's family is more eccentric, yours or mine?

CP:  Too close to call.

MB:  What stories are you planning to tell Jen and Chris at the Vienna Inn when we get back?

CP: I mean, how can it be anything other than a nonstop narrative. [Waits while I type.]
I don't think this Q&A is working out.

MB: On a scale of 1 to 10, how annoyed are you with me and this process?

CP: This is like every conversation you and I ever have. [Chris mimics my voice.] "Let me ask you about feelings." [Accosts me with cheek kisses as I ignore him and continue typing.]
Actually, my favorite part of India so far is how much being in India brings out your New Yorker side. I've seen several arguments with you and your mother -- not with each other -- and it's NBD. [That's No Big Deal, in Chris-speak.]

[Chris is silent for another minute.]

MB: Well, that's really our Punjabi genes coming out. But since you mention feelings...what are your feeling goals for this trip? [Feeling goals are a new thing a friend told me about where you set goals on what you want to feel, not on external situations since 1) you can't control every outcome and 2) sometimes what you think will make you happy doesn't, so it's better to focus on being happy and adjust your goals accordingly.]

CP: That concept is so fascinating to me. It's like asking, What are your weather goals? How is that relevant? It's a nonsense question.

MB: OK, thanks for your time. I'll let you know when we run the piece. Safe travels to Coorg -- hope you have a great time!

CP: I don't know...give me a little time to think about the answers....[after 5 minutes of silence] When I get home and start driving, the temptation to be non-stop honking my horn is going to be hard to resist.

MB: Anything else you'd like to tell your fans?

CP: I could ride around all day just experiencing the city traffic.

MB: Do you want to share your new life goal with everyone?

CP: Oh yeah, if I could ever successfully drive on these streets, I would know I've made it.

MB: Okay, thanks for your time, baby. Looking forward to spending 5 hours in the car with you today as we drive down to Coorg!

Editor's note: Chris is an introvert. The real-time transcription of this interview is a good example of why interviewers should give introverts the questions in writing ahead of time. Just a professional tip since the occasion presented itself. NBD.

"Look kids! Big Ben! Parliament!" Highlights from London

The Most American Man in the World took on London. And conquered it. Or maybe crushed it. Well, to be precise, we had a good time and didn't cause an international incident. So that's something, right?

We took the train from Ascot into central London. Travel in a plane or train always makes me pensive, and looking out of the train's big picture window, I note that the sky is overcast but the grass is a vibrant green from all the rain, quite unlike February in New York. And then there are the trees.

The trees in England are not simply characteristic, but characters in and of themselves. There are Hamletian trees, indecisive about which way they want to grow. In a meadow, a Fastaffian oak is laying on its side, its roots obscenely pointing in the air, and Mother Earth, exhausted from trying to coax it to rise, has covered it in a moss blanket. And then there are the Sherlockain ones -- dark trunks with hundreds of synaptic-like branches that stretch to make tenuous connections with the ether.

I realize these metaphors might be a bit forced, but it's been so long since I had a poetic thought, I'm writing each one down in a small red notebook while the train chugs past quintessentially English towns -- Victoria Water, Egham, Feltham.

The Most American Man leans over to whisper in my ear, "I Feltham, did you?"

*     *     *

When we get to London, Chris is in his element, mainly because he loves monuments, statues and reading boring plaques about dead people. I booked us for a Double Decker tour, which is perfect since it allows us to see most of the main sites and hop off when Chris wants to take a picture or grab a snack (we both accept that there will be no end to snacking on this trip). And the weather gods have cooperated to deliver his ideal climate -- overcast, brisk and misty. (Is this guy not made for England?)

Chris outside Buckingham Palace.

Across Buckingham Palace, the tall, stately, trees with curvy bottoms lining The Green Park remind me of Helen Mirren -- but that may also be because she played The Queen. Meanwhile, Chris notices that the hot chocolate stand in the park sells mini-Belgium waffles drizzled with chocolate syrup, and promptly orders one.

But the highlight of his day is Parliament Square where Chris gets to shout dialogue from National Lampoons European Vacation ("Look kids! Big Ben! Parliament!) and take lots of photos of statues to dead men -- a lumpy Churchill, a sparsely dressed Gandhi, a graceful Nelson Mandela, and curiously, a benevolent-looking Abraham Lincoln. (I get why the other statues are there, but Lincoln seems particularly out of place.) I'm generally bored by both Chevy Chase movies and statues, but there is hope for this trip -- Chris mentions on the plane ride to India that he would have liked to have spent a week in London just seeing all the sights.

Ladies and gentlemen, do we have a burgeoning world traveler? Do I dare hope?

Adventures in Traveling with The Most American Man in the World

In 39 years, I've visited nearly 20 countries. My boyfriend, a nubile 37-years-old, has left the U.S. once -- for Bermuda and the Bahamas.

For friends who have known me for more than 24 hours, this is a highly ironic relationship. It's also a goldmine of cultural misunderstandings, sarcastic banter, and many Felix-and-Oscar moments to which I firmly believe I should not be the sole consumer. So let me present for your reading pleasure Adventures in Traveling with The Most American Man in the World.*

First things first. The Most American Man does not like change. I, Felix, do like change. And new ideas.

My constant flow of new ideas -- for life, for work, for art, for travel destinations -- is often met with indifference or outward resistance from The Boyfriend. In fact, here's a graph of the usually trajectory of my happiness when I introduce Chris to a new idea:

See what happens? A new idea is practically infallibly correlated with my happiness. But the minute I share this new idea with Chris, I am met with 0% enthusiasm. Most of the time, this is not because of an obstinate or grumpy-cat nature; he's simply an introvert who mulls over every idea for long periods of time before getting on board.

He's also a civil servant (see footnote below), who knows when to get on board with management's new plan or initiative. This leads to 10% enthusiasm that can seem like progress, but actually it's the worst stage in the Chris Enthusiasm Building process because it is accompanied with Irish-Catholic-level passive-aggressive statemetns (e.g., "Fiiine, I'll go to India, if it's really that important to you.").

I usually pretend to have Asperger's at this point and simply take Chris at his literal word. I pepper him with questions to which he never knows the answer. ("Do you like to see sights or laze around when you travel?" I ask. "I wouldn't know," he responds.) But life is busy, and it's amazing how much a relationship can progress if you just ignore gaping incompatibilities for a few months.

At some point, Chris will realize that things are moving without much effort on his part. At this point, he adopts adrenaline-junkie jargon like, "Sometimes you just have to turn into the skid." The sheer possibility of chaos brings his enthusiasm to 75%. Which is great.

But then things get tricky. Because The Most American Man can't half commit to something. He can't even let it rest at 75%. It's go big or go home. There's no 100%, just 110%. So now, Chris is not only on board with visiting India, I'm pretty sure that if I mention wanting to travel internationally ever again, he's going to want to come back only to India. "It's a tradition," he'll say. "Why mess with a good thing?"

This makes me want to bury my head in despair for all the countries that are out there to be seen. But then I remember what my cousin Cary once told me. "You want a guy who doesn't like change, because that means he won't want to change you." I'm not sure if he meant Chris won't try to exchange me (for someone else) or won't try to change my fundamental personality. But either way, I realize that this trait, this Most American trait, is why I was happy enough to have all those bright ideas in the first place.

And so we continue on our merry-go-round of algorithmic incompatibility. He makes me happy. I have new ideas. I share those ideas, and he mourns the little creature comforts he so desperately wants, opting instead for a life with me. I charge ahead with my idea, and then he gets on board, outstripping any level of interest or enthusiasm I had. And his dedication makes my heart smile with loyal affection. And so we start again...

*For those of you that may dispute that moniker, I should mention that The Boyfriend is a Firefighter/EMT, was born outside of Boston to parents who are Jersey Italian and Irish, loves chain restaurants, and uses the word awesome at least once a day.

How to Date a Feminist (Redux)

I recently read an eHow article titled "How to Date a Feminist" and I have to say, it's probably the worst How-to article I've ever read, mainly because I wouldn't follow their steps to date a feminist and I am one! So here's my suggested How-to guide to dating a feminist:

1. Don't assume that because she's a feminist she either hates men or is trying to be like one. Instead, ask her what that term means to her. You'll get to know her and she'll think you're smart for asking.

2. On the first date, avoid misogynistic humor. This usually entails not repeating anything from a Vince Vaughn movie. Or your ideas for a Vince Vaughn movie. Don't worry--eventually you can probably get her to watch Wedding Crashers with you (although I can't guarantee she'll enjoy it), but don't expect that to win her over on the first date.

3. If she mentions working for women's rights in any way, do not disparage her efforts. Be open to seeing her perspective, even if you respectfully disagree. The key word here is respectfully. While you may think that date rape statistics are inflated, commenting that she works with liars if she's a rape crisis counselor is not respectful (this is a true story that happened to me).

4. Read an article about women's issues. Just one. Really, one is enough to open your eyes. It can be about anything, and chances are, there's probably some way women's issues combines with your profession, even if you're in finance or construction. Plus, by reading one article, it'll give you good date talk, which might then lead to good pillow talk.

5. While I wouldn't expect any guy to read the entire syllabus from a women's studies course (even I skipped out on some of those readings), it may behoove you to think about what you would put on a men studies course. The greatest shame in college campuses nowadays is that women are challenged to think about their roles in the world and how to break out of stereotypes while men are not. Tell her that and it might get you laid.

6. Support her career aspirations. No wise woman is going to be all about her career. Most of them just want to enjoy family and career the way men have been for years. But being a supportive man who thinks about her career strategically and gives her sound counsel makes you a true catch and can also lead to some really great intellectual foreplay.

7. Support her personal growth. This is just sound relationship advice and not specific to feminists, or women for that matter. The key is not to be self-absorbed and to understand that there are just as many women as men aspiring for greatness--help her be the better version of yourself and she'll probably help you do the same.

Now the only trick in all this is paying the bill. I still have no idea what the rules are on that one, and even my own preferences change. I always offer because I don't think men should always pay, but I also think more highly of the guy who argues a bit to pay for me, not out of some antiquated notion of gender roles, but just out of kindness, the way my friend Jenna and I argued about the bill today. But that's me. I know other feminists differ on this. The one thing I do know is that a feminist is unlikely to be the type of woman who puts out on the third date simply because you paid for 3 dinners--you're going to have to work a bit harder than that.

Your thoughts?