A Family Affair

Our Thanksgiving week was spent in a chaotic whirlwind of events, largely dominated by my close friend’s wedding. 

I was really looking forward to this momentous, joyous occasion.  My friend and I lived in the same dorm freshman year, joined the same sorority, and throughout the years, have grown closer and closer.  She has seen me in my best and worst moments, including those tough times with rowing.

Group of friends, including the new bride; old photo from college

My friend is Indian, and she most certainly had a traditional, week-long Indian wedding.  A wedding is supposed to be an once-in-a-lifetime event.  So, what is one week of ceremony, celebration compared to the rest of your life together?

I have been to an Indian wedding before and had some idea of all the events and ceremonies, but every wedding is different, depending on the couple, family, customs, and religion.  Ready for a peek into this Indian wedding?

Day 1.  Hindu ceremony on bride’s side to mark the beginning of the wedding (no idea what the ceremony is called).  Women only. 

The ceremony was held at the bride’s house.  The bride sat in the front of the room, facing a wall lined with religious items and offerings.  A Hindu priest led the ceremony.  He chanted various prayers and spoke to the bride in a mixture of Hindi and Gujati.  My friend is from a northwestern province of India called Gujat. 

Halfway through the ceremony, the priest offered the bride a few important words on marriage.  Important enough that he repeated them in English.  Marriage requires two things—sacrifice and understanding.  Sacrifice to put the other person ahead of yourself.  Understanding that your marriage and the other person are more important than you being right all the time. 

Although the rest of the lecture on marriage was in Gujati, before I knew it, all the other women especially the mother, aunties, grandmothers were all reaching for the Kleenex box.  I could feel my eyes watering because I have been married for only the smallest amount of time and I already know that I lack a little in the sacrifice and understanding department.

The ceremony concluded with each of the women taking two sticks, one dipped in a yellow paste and one dipped in oil, and touching the bride’s feet, knees, shoulders, and head four times. 

Day 2.  Mehendi ceremony on bride’s side. 

Mehendi is a fun, more casual event where the bride and other women have their heena done.  In this case, the bride’s heena on her hands and feet took almost six hours because of the complex patterns and delicate lines. 

An example of heena

When applied, heena appears like a black puff paint that has to dry and will eventually flake off, revealing a dark brown pattern or “tattoo.”  The “tattoo” is not permanent, but takes about 1-2 weeks to wash off.  The longer the black puff paint stays on, the darker and supposedly more beautiful the heena will be. 

The bride had to walk around carefully and had little use of her hands in fear of ruining the heena for a number of hours.  Yes, this means that she was got the ultimate princess treatment—sister, cousins at her beck and call.  Luckily, she did not drink very much water beforehand.

Indian weddings are true family affairs.  Not only do extended family near and far spend the whole week consumed with the wedding, but they are all involved somehow.  Here at Mehendi, many of the older women sat around a HUGE bucket of carnations, singing while snapping off the flowers and threading them to make a wreath to be worn at the final wedding ceremony.

Day 3.  “Rest.”

This day was Thanksgiving and thankfully, we got this day off.  The groom’s side, however, did have their Mehendi on this day.

Day 4.  Ceremony and Garba and Raas Dandiya.

The bride had a small, family ceremony on this day followed by larger, celebratory event with music, food, drinks, and dancing.  Garba and Raas Dandiya are specific forms of Indian dancing.  Garba involves hand movements and specific step sequences.  Raas, which I believe is from Gujat, involves dancing with two sticks and in a large even-numbered group.

Even the Princess made an appearance at Raas Garba

My short fling in college with Indian dancing was a mixture of the two forms, often called Raas Garba.  Luckily, all that learning then was not completely wasted.

Even the dancing is a family affair.  Everyone partakes—men, women, siblings, parents, cousins, aunties, uncles, long lost relatives, grandparents, children.

Day 5.  Pre-wedding and wedding ceremony.

For the bride, this day started at 3AM with hair and make-up.  Imagine that.  There was hair and make-up done every day and all the women looked beautiful in their colorful, sparkling outfits. 

The first ceremony on this day began in the morning with the bride’s side women giving the bride various gifts.  The Hindu priest led the ceremony again, and there was some form of a sing-off between the women.

After lunch, the next ceremony was at the groom’s temple since the groom was Sikh, a separate religion from Hinduism and originating in the Punjab region. 

The last, final, and largest ceremony was the official Hindu wedding.  The groom arrived atop a horse, heavily decorated with jewels and colorful fabric.  The groom’s family and friends led the horse around in the parking lot while dancing and celebrating.  Eventually, the music and dancing faded and the groom dismounted and entered the building.  Before he could approach the ceremony stage, the bride’s side women provided him a variety of religious or traditional offerings.  This ended with a fun tradition of the bride’s mother trying to pinch the groom’s nose. 

The actual ceremony began with the groom and his family sitting on one side and the bride’s family sitting on the other.  The bride was escorted up the aisle by two of her uncles.  She was seated across from the groom with a cloth separating them and a red thread connecting them.  The Hindu priest conducted several prayers or traditions before the cloth was dropped and the couple could see each other.  Then, the couple placed the carnation flower wreaths, which were made at the Mehendi, on each other. 

The ceremony continued with the several customs involving the groom’s and the bride’s fathers, symbolizing the joining of the two families. 

The bride leading the groom around the fire

The last part of the ceremony involved the bride and groom walking around a fire multiple times, each circle had a specific meaning.  The priest reemphasized sacrifice and understanding here.

The ceremony ended and gave way to dinner (although I doubt if the newly wedded couple even managed to get a bite to eat) and gift-giving.

The very long day concluded with the bride bidding good-bye to her family and leaving with the groom, marking her new life with his family.  The couple drove off slowly with several of the bride’s male relatives pushing the car, symbolizing the bride’s departure from her family.

Day 6.  Reception.

Despite Day 6 falling on a Sunday, the reception (of 400 people) began in the evening and went well through the night.  Filled with short speeches, a special dance performance, lots of picture-taking, delicious, rich Indian food, and a whole night of dancing, the reception was a joyous celebration end to a long week. 

With the beautiful bride

 The wedding was quite a marathon of events, but it was a good time to reflect and to learn a few things too.

1. Family is important.
2. Marriage requires sacrifice and understanding.
3. Weddings are as much about joining two people as about joining two families.
4. Customs and traditions are often symbolic of greater things.
5. I think I have eaten enough Indian food to last me a whole year.
6. There is no age limit to dancing.
7. Celebrate the things in life that matter.

Head of the American 2011 - Part 1

Valuable lessons are often learned the hard way. 

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Beautiful day at Lake Natoma for Head of the American

If you have never been to the Head of the American (HOA) at Lake Natoma near Sacramento, the course is beautiful with only one gradual turn and water that is only mildly disturbed.  The wind is typically a tailwind and only on occasion becomes a headwind or becomes treacherous. 

The regatta itself is usually run with impeccable efficiency, but as with many large regattas, it is can become what Chris calls a “madhouse.”  Being a madhouse is one of the reasons HOA is so great—there are competitors who travel from LA, San Diego, Oregon, or sometimes even farther.  

HOA is THE Northern California head race.  Newport Autum Rowing Festival (NARF) is THE head race for Southern California, drawing crews from the Bay Area, Arizona, and farther.  Between the two, you are to find some tough competition.

Two weekends ago, I learned and re-learned a number of valuable lessons at HOA.

#1.  Always be prepared.  Better to be prepared the night before.

The preparation for a race should begin the night before—packing the clothes, gear, and food that you will need.  The night before HOA, however, my husband and I took the Princess to a wonderful Halloween costume event at the Palo Alto Children’s zoo.  Thankfully, the Princess already had a nice, pink Chinese-styled outfit that we could pass off as a costume.  What was she dressed as?  A Chinese princess, Chinese girl, Chinese doll, Chinese screaming terror.  Whatever works.

The Princess at Halloween,
wearing her Chinese outfit.

From the zoo, we stayed with my parents where Grandma and Grandpa could pander the Princess even more and hopefully give my husband a break from the Chinese screaming terror while I spent all of Saturday at HOA.

Needless to say, I was not very prepared for race day.  I had frantically thrown clothes into a bag before we left for the zoo, but did not have time to properly pack food, water, tools.  I had thought that I might be able to pack food from my parents’ house, but I had forgotten that they actually cook from scratch and did not usually have pre-made food ready to go.  A bundle of raw bok choy was not going to cut it.  I grabbed some apples and bananas and left the house at five in the morning. 

I managed to grab a coffee and some oatmeal from Starbucks.  My mixed doubles (Mx2x) partner also was much better prepared than me and kindly shared some delicious, homemade date and fig bars. 

It is not as if I would have starved.  Regattas typically have food vendors and clubs usually have a pile of community food to share.  From my lightweight days and binges after weigh-ins, however, I learned that I want to eat things that are fresh and make me feel good instead of eating heavy pastries or mouth-watering baked goods.  My team also loved to eat peanut butter, which is a great race day fuel, but not when you eat spoonful after spoonful of it.

Old photo from college, eating peanut butter

I also did not bring enough water.  I had half-anticipated the weather to be mild and cool, but weather was relatively warm for a late fall day in California.  Before my first race, I had already drunk all my water and forgot to get more before our hurried launch.  Luckily, we were able to snag a small water bottle from the BIAC team, but had the day been any warmer, that small bottle would not have been enough.

#2.  Never underestimate how much stress and nerves can unnerve you.

HOA is a huge regatta and amidst all the chaos and distractions, you have to be able to manage your own equipment, time, fueling, check-ins, weigh-ins, anything that could go wrong and still get to the start line on time.  When you have a coach to help you, things are a bit easier and the coach usually has all the bow numbers, safety pins, extra tools, electrical tape, race plan, hands-on and launch times ready.

I had forgotten how lonely, chaotic, and overall, more stressful it can be as a sculler without the supervision of a coach.  My first race was the masters 2x at noon followed by the open 1x three hours later.  The timing should have been enough, even luxurious, but I had squandered much of the morning catching up with old acquaintances, helping out, and scrambling for the little things, as seen from my lack of preparation (Lesson #1).  In addition, my Mx2x partner had a race at 10:30 and did not get off the water until 11:10.

By the time we hurriedly beach-launched (launching directly into the water and not from a dock), it was already 11:30.  Mentally, I was in near panic.  I knew there was a significant penalty to being late to the start and without having been on the course yet, I was unsure of how much time it would take to get there.  Thankfully, my Mx2x partner was of a much calmer mind and we arrived to the start with about five minutes to spare.

There were only two other boats in my 1x race and coincidentally, I knew both rowers personally.  After I had started rowing in college, I spent the subsequent summer in the Los Angeles area, rowing out of a small boat club.  There, I met the two rowers separately, and we all had the same coaches at some point or other.  Then, I had looked at them, as someone who gazes off at the moon, something so far and out of reach.  Although the two were at different points of their rowing careers, both were motivated and strong with a large amount of potential.  And I was not sure where in the picture I fit in. 

I had never raced them before, and HOA was the first chance in the five years since.  I wanted to race well against them, to see how far I had progressed and maybe places where I lacked.  Racing well means having your head in the game, being prepared, and eating up pain like it was good for you.  Although I am much more experienced now than five years ago, the stress, nerves, panic, and distractions before the race were a good reminder that there is still a lot that I have to master as a racer.

#3.  If you race in a men’s race, don't expect to make any friends.

Due to the order of events and timing between them, my Mx2x partner and I raced in a Men’s Masters 2x instead of the usual Mixed Masters 2x.  Now instead of having to pull my weight and age, I had to pull my weight, age, and sex. 

When we arrived at the start, we had about five minutes to spare (see Lesson #2), but our event was already lined up—eight other men's doubles ready to go.  As I steered the boat to cross the buoys into the starting area, the official flagged me down and told us to not cross, but proceed down to where other boats were continuing their warm-up. 

For a moment I was confused about why the official would not allow us to line up with the other men’s doubles.  Then, I remembered that we were probably the ones to confuse him.  The mixed 2x race was not for another hour or so.  

I replied to him that we were in this race, pointing to the other men’s doubles.  He looked down at his sheet and looked up, “You are in this race?  Men’s masters double?”  I responded, “Yes, we are.  Yes, I know.”  We were clear to line up, fourth boat to start. 

By this time and by the small commotion that we created, all the other boats were curious and we turned to find ourselves being stared at.  The stares became incredulous looks as they realized that we were in their race.  To top it off, my Mx2x partner who had done his research on the competition was feeling particular convivial and tried to strike up a conversation with the previous champions of this race, a crew from Ashland who had a massive age handicap on us and who looked none the pleased to race a mixed boat.

Typically in rowing, the two genders do not mix unless it is an explicitly stated mixed race where at least half the boat must consist of women.  On occasion, however, rowers can race “up”, i.e. race in a more competitive category.  For instance, women can race in men’s races and lightweights can race in heavyweight races, but not the reversed.  Just remember that if you are a woman racing in a men’s race, none of the men will be too thrilled.

It felt good to actually start racing so that everyone would stop looking over at our boat.  We started strong and settled into a good rhythm.  The boat ahead of us was struggling and we passed them quickly.  The next 1000 meters were spent catching the San Francisco Bay Blades double, one boat with friendly faces.  Then, if I almost completely turned around, I could see the Ashland boat much farther ahead of us.  I tried to make calls to focus on things that would generate more speed in the boat.  Sometimes the boat responded, and sometimes the set was just slightly off or our strokes not clean enough to gain more ground.  For much of the race, the Ashland boat had significant amount of open water. 

With about 1500 meters to go, I could see that the distance had closed, and I called a twenty, thinking that we would be able to catch them quickly.  I could see their boat moving away from the buoy line, the shortest course, and it seemed like they were yielding that course to us.  I severely overestimated our speed and underestimated their determination.  They hung onto that lead with about two lengths of open water and moved back towards the buoy line.  

In about the last 1000 meters, we took the buoy line and quickly closed on them.  From there, I could see them in the corner of my eye and we were soon bow-to-stern.  We could hear shouting and cheering from the shore, and I think I even heard my name.  We continued to move up, but for every stroke that we willed to propel us ahead, it felt like they dug deeper and fought harder.  We fought for every inch down the stretch and crossed the line just 1.1 seconds after them. 

My initial gut reaction was disappointment.  Disappointed that we needed every stroke of that race to count and that there were strokes in there that we could have done better.  Disappointed that when it came down to the end, we were not able to edge them out.  Disappointed that maybe if I had just given a little more, sat up a little taller we would have had them.

With a more perspective and level-headedness, we raced really well.  We started strong, were consistent, and finished strong.  Just a little more speed and quickness in the last 500 meters might have been enough to cross the line first, but you cannot ask for something that you do not have.  In the end, crossing the line would not have given us a win.  Due to the age handicap, we needed almost two more minutes to win.

Mens Masters 2x Final

1. Ashland - 17:29.97 (raw - 20:26.17; finish time at 12:20:42.60
2. BIAC/LMRC - 19:20.65 (raw - 19:28.45; finish time at 12:20:43.73)
3. MRA - 19:27.87 (raw - 20:59.77)
4. OARS - 20:24.54 (raw - 21:56.44)
5. RCRC - 20:58.35 (raw - 23:29.05)
6. Stan RC - 22:47.28 (raw - 24:00.68)
7. SFBB - 23:37.10 (raw - 23.37.10)
8. SRC - 25:50.05 (raw - 26:03.05)
9. PCDW - 30:01.64 (raw - 20:23.94)

Regatta results can be found here.

Wine Country Regatta 2011 - Part 2

Goodbye October and welcome November, already!  Wine Country regatta was two weekends ago, and it already seems to be a somewhat faded memory.

Read about the Wine Country regatta Part 1, race report of the double here.

After the double's race, my mixed doubles partner and I paddled to the North Bay Rowing dock to launch the quad.  The race was a mixed masters quad.  Mixed because at least half of the boat must consist of women, and masters because well, there was not an open race choice.  Now, I had to pull my weight and age.

More importantly, this mixed quad was to be stroked by our coach, Chris.  Chris has been around the Bay Area rowing scene for countless years and about two years ago, added the Lake Merritt Women's team to his list of coaching responsibilities, which include Berkeley High, Open Water Rowing, and Summer Youth Rowing.

There is something unnerving about rowing in the same boat as your coach.  Sure, in this case, I was sitting in bow with no one to see my poor technique or missed water except for the spectators and the cameras.  However, bow seat in a quad also steers the boat in a head race, and stroke seat can tell pretty clearly whether or not the steering is straight.

The last time I was in a the same boat as my coach was in the summer of 2009 (the same summer my brother and I rowed at the lake together) at Southwest Regionals, also held that year at Lake Merritt and also, in a quad.  Sitting in two seat, right in front of our coach, Dede, was pretty nerve-wrecking, especially at a time when I was just becoming comfortable sculling.  We ended up winning our race, even with the age handicap, but I never had the nerve to ask Dede how I did.

Left to right (bow to stroke): Dede, me, three seat, stroke or four seat

There is also a little secret about quads that some rowers do not know about and that I did not learn until after rowing with Dede.  If you have the right rowers in the boat, quads can be FAST and QUICK.  So fast and quick that it becomes hard to feel the boat.  You are almost not sure whether or not you are actually pulling.  In smaller or slower boats, including slower quads, you feel some heaviness at the catch and you can feel the water run under the boat as you drive and swing.  In a fast quad, you have to row differently.  Instead of emphasizing the swing, you have to think about just tapping the boat along, quick rowing without disturbing the speed of the boat.  It is a hard concept to think about and even harder to execute properly.  The Wine Country regatta mixed quad reminded me of why I have an almost allergic reaction to the quad, but a natural affinity to the single or double.

Left to right (stroke to bow): Chris, three seat, my Mx2x partner, me

The moment we started rowing in the quad together, there was a feeling of secret, unspoken surprise and elation--the boat felt GOOD.  The boat felt effortless as it glided through the water.  We reached the start line with a few minutes to spare, as we all waited for the last quad, a BIAC and Los Gatos Rowing Club quad to pull up.

As the first boat of four total to start, we quickly built to rate and settled in to a rhythm.  Perhaps, it was our nervousness or overexcitment, the change in direction of water, or my steering, but that secret magical feeling from the warm-up disappeared and we had to settle for "pretty good."  The boat ran smooth enough with a few dips to one side or another, especially when I looked back or steered the boat, using the rudder.

Learning from my course in the doubles race, I knew the straight sections of the course would be the hardest.  With uniform marshlands to look at and no outstanding landmarks as points, it could be hard to keep a straight course without constantly looking back.  On the second or third straightaway, right after a turn to starboard and at a large gap between marker buoys, I tried to stay close to the center of the river to catch the in-bound current, but overshot.  A nearby launch shouted at us and I quickly corrected my mistake, but not before you could see my mistake reflect in trailing wake of the boat.  I know Chris saw too.

As we approached the finish line, we heard cheers from the few scattered spectators and especially from the North Bay Rowing Club president who had been so generous in loaning the boats to us.  After we crossed the line, we sat, watched, and waited for the other boats.  Chris reminded us of the age handicap and even after the other boats finished, we were not sure if we had beaten the other boats.

Regardless of results, that quad was exhilarating to row.  Even on the paddle back, with a low stroke rate, there was huge amounts of run in the boat.  The race was a good reminder for me that there is still a lot to work as bow seat in a quad.

In the end, we did overcome the age handicap to win the race.