Dear dedicated reader,
So, I have an announcement to make, in honor of the fact that it is my birthday and this is (hopefully) the one day of the year on which I can do no wrong:
I have pierced my nose.
Some of you were already aware of this news, but since my two most dedicated readers were not (namely, my grandparents), I feel it is now time to come clean.
I have always, secretly, wanted to do this, but there was continually some obstacle or another preventing me. I considered it the last time I was in India, but I didn’t want to be “that girl who went to India and got her nose pierced” (I was already that girl who went to India, after all). The thought flitted through my mind my senior year of college, but at that juncture was looking for a job and didn’t think it was the right timing. I thought about it again my first year out of college but by then was working in a school and didn’t feel like enquiring what the school’s policy was on facial piercing. And so I put it off and put it off and put it off.
It was in this frame of mind that, at the slightest suggestion from the interns, about two months ago I made up my mind to get it done here in Kadod. Nose piercing for women is practically ubiquitous here and I felt more comfortable going to the local Kadod jeweler to have it done than I would to any piercing parlor in the US.
One night while we were watching television at the principal’s house, I happened to mention my intention to Aunty (which I have taken to calling the principal’s wife) and to Sejalben, who immediately suggested that we go the next day. My stomach lurched slightly: so soon? Just like that? After all this time of waiting and postponing, I could just go and get it done tomorrow? I felt excited and nauseous all at once.
The next evening, Sejalben instructed us to gather at the car. We piled inside, five in the back seat, Aunty in the front and Jaydeepbhai driving. I assumed, because we were going by car, that the jeweler must be in Bardoli and mentally steeled myself for the long ride. Imagine my surprise when after a two minute drive up the main street of Kadod, Jaydeepbhai abruptly stopped the car on the side of the road and Aunty instructed us to get out! We were in front of a small shop that I had never noticed before, whose glass window was set slightly up from the road such that you had to climb a few steps in order to enter the premises. I nervously did so, just behind Aunty and Sejalben, taking off my sandals before entering as is customary.
Inside, the jeweler was sitting behind a dusty glass counter, through which I could see an array of gold jewelry large and small. Aunty quickly explained in Gujarati the purpose of our visit and he obligingly took out a piece of cardboard, through which a number of gold nose pins had been unceremoniously shoved for safe-keeping.
Their sizes ranged from marble to pin head sized gold balls. After some deliberation and consultation with the others, I chose the second to smallest one. “People will barely be able to see this,” Sejalben declared. “I think you are doing this piercing for yourself only!”
In some ways, I was.
The jeweler indicated that I should take a seat on a plastic stool, and he took the nose pin that I had selected out of the cardboard. I was so nervous, I didn’t check to see if he had sterilized it or not: in retrospect, this was probably not very diligent. He came around the counter and stood over me. I took one last look at Priya and Vanisha, both of whom had their noses pierced.
“Are you sure this doesn’t hurt?” I asked them. They assured me it did not.
I steeled myself.
The next thing I knew, he had taken the end of the nose pin itself and shoved it through the cartilage in my nose. It took exactly a fraction of a second and then it was over. I blinked.
“That’s…it?” I said incredulously.
Priya and Vanisha were surprised. “I’ve never actually seen anyone do that with the nose pin itself before!”
My ordeal, however, had one final stage. The man, focusing his eyes on my nose, reached behind him and grabbed some metal pliers off of the glass counter. He slowly brought them up towards my nose and inserted them into my nostril.
“OW!” I flinched as he turned the end of the nose pin into a spiral so that it would stay in and not fall out of my nose. In a moment, his work was finished.
“Uh, okay, that hurt,” I declared. My eyes watered a little as he brought a mirror for me to admire my newly acquired facial feature in. I looked at it wonderingly. It was done!
As I stood, I could still see the gold glint out of the corner of my eye, even without the mirror. This was slightly disconcerting, but all of the others reassured me that after a few days I wouldn’t even notice it anymore.
“Just don’t eat channa (chickpeas) or anything sour,” Vanisha advised me.
“Why?” I asked curiously.
“Because it will cause a bump to be there,” she explained. The science of this is unclear to me, but I wasn’t willing to risk it.
So far, it’s been a month and all is well. I’ve changed the nose pin to a small diamond, which merited another trip to the jeweler after a misled attempt to try and change the pin myself, the details of which I will not terrify you with.
In the words of my friend Brian, “Cat, you got your nose pierced in a village in rural India? You aren’t going to be able to give blood for a long time…”
Best,
Cat
P.S. Babby, please don’t be mad!
So, I have an announcement to make, in honor of the fact that it is my birthday and this is (hopefully) the one day of the year on which I can do no wrong:
I have pierced my nose.
Some of you were already aware of this news, but since my two most dedicated readers were not (namely, my grandparents), I feel it is now time to come clean.
I have always, secretly, wanted to do this, but there was continually some obstacle or another preventing me. I considered it the last time I was in India, but I didn’t want to be “that girl who went to India and got her nose pierced” (I was already that girl who went to India, after all). The thought flitted through my mind my senior year of college, but at that juncture was looking for a job and didn’t think it was the right timing. I thought about it again my first year out of college but by then was working in a school and didn’t feel like enquiring what the school’s policy was on facial piercing. And so I put it off and put it off and put it off.
It was in this frame of mind that, at the slightest suggestion from the interns, about two months ago I made up my mind to get it done here in Kadod. Nose piercing for women is practically ubiquitous here and I felt more comfortable going to the local Kadod jeweler to have it done than I would to any piercing parlor in the US.
One night while we were watching television at the principal’s house, I happened to mention my intention to Aunty (which I have taken to calling the principal’s wife) and to Sejalben, who immediately suggested that we go the next day. My stomach lurched slightly: so soon? Just like that? After all this time of waiting and postponing, I could just go and get it done tomorrow? I felt excited and nauseous all at once.
The next evening, Sejalben instructed us to gather at the car. We piled inside, five in the back seat, Aunty in the front and Jaydeepbhai driving. I assumed, because we were going by car, that the jeweler must be in Bardoli and mentally steeled myself for the long ride. Imagine my surprise when after a two minute drive up the main street of Kadod, Jaydeepbhai abruptly stopped the car on the side of the road and Aunty instructed us to get out! We were in front of a small shop that I had never noticed before, whose glass window was set slightly up from the road such that you had to climb a few steps in order to enter the premises. I nervously did so, just behind Aunty and Sejalben, taking off my sandals before entering as is customary.
Inside, the jeweler was sitting behind a dusty glass counter, through which I could see an array of gold jewelry large and small. Aunty quickly explained in Gujarati the purpose of our visit and he obligingly took out a piece of cardboard, through which a number of gold nose pins had been unceremoniously shoved for safe-keeping.
Their sizes ranged from marble to pin head sized gold balls. After some deliberation and consultation with the others, I chose the second to smallest one. “People will barely be able to see this,” Sejalben declared. “I think you are doing this piercing for yourself only!”
In some ways, I was.
The jeweler indicated that I should take a seat on a plastic stool, and he took the nose pin that I had selected out of the cardboard. I was so nervous, I didn’t check to see if he had sterilized it or not: in retrospect, this was probably not very diligent. He came around the counter and stood over me. I took one last look at Priya and Vanisha, both of whom had their noses pierced.
“Are you sure this doesn’t hurt?” I asked them. They assured me it did not.
I steeled myself.
The next thing I knew, he had taken the end of the nose pin itself and shoved it through the cartilage in my nose. It took exactly a fraction of a second and then it was over. I blinked.
“That’s…it?” I said incredulously.
Priya and Vanisha were surprised. “I’ve never actually seen anyone do that with the nose pin itself before!”
My ordeal, however, had one final stage. The man, focusing his eyes on my nose, reached behind him and grabbed some metal pliers off of the glass counter. He slowly brought them up towards my nose and inserted them into my nostril.
“OW!” I flinched as he turned the end of the nose pin into a spiral so that it would stay in and not fall out of my nose. In a moment, his work was finished.
“Uh, okay, that hurt,” I declared. My eyes watered a little as he brought a mirror for me to admire my newly acquired facial feature in. I looked at it wonderingly. It was done!
As I stood, I could still see the gold glint out of the corner of my eye, even without the mirror. This was slightly disconcerting, but all of the others reassured me that after a few days I wouldn’t even notice it anymore.
“Just don’t eat channa (chickpeas) or anything sour,” Vanisha advised me.
“Why?” I asked curiously.
“Because it will cause a bump to be there,” she explained. The science of this is unclear to me, but I wasn’t willing to risk it.
So far, it’s been a month and all is well. I’ve changed the nose pin to a small diamond, which merited another trip to the jeweler after a misled attempt to try and change the pin myself, the details of which I will not terrify you with.
In the words of my friend Brian, “Cat, you got your nose pierced in a village in rural India? You aren’t going to be able to give blood for a long time…”
Best,
Cat
P.S. Babby, please don’t be mad!
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4 comments:
Cat, you're so crazy! Good for you. Happy Birthday!
-Alex
welcome to the team...when will you be getting your second nose-ring?
-KS
Happy birthday, Cat! And it looks lovely!
Quoted on Cat's blog! W00P! My life is complete.
Looks great, btw. I approve. :)
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