There was a small sign posted on the side of the road, about an India festival being held not too far from home. We saw it on the way back home and decided it would be our dinner spot that night.
I think I was expecting something different. Something like an Indian wedding reception. A ground covered with food stalls, selling every imaginable delicacy. Bright lights, loads of people in colourful ethnic wear, laughing and chattering. And, music blaring like it does in pandals and other social gatherings.
There were loads of people all right. All kinds of people were there, Indians and non-Indians. As a reminder of where we were, the light went off a couple of times.
They had rides and activities like rock-wall climbing and zip-lining. I’m guessing there was a small film dance performance by some kids. We went quite late, so we missed the dance. I’m speculating based on the few children I saw dressed in matching shiny costumes.
I was almost heart broken to find that the food was being catered by the Indian restaurants in the area. Each had set up a little stall. As a rule, I’m reluctant to go to *desi restaurants outside **des. Something in me says, the food has been altered to suit local tastes. Today I had no choice but to sample the wares that I do my best to avoid.
To tell the truth, not all the food was all that bad. The papdi chaat was unpalatable, but the sev puri was good. The dosa was average. The alu chop/batata vada had a tad too much of jeera. The kulfi falooda was as good as anything you get in India.
* desi – of or from the homeland, here Indian
** des – country, here India