<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150533647096558945</id><updated>2009-10-13T15:57:28.837-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Uberoisisters.com</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uberoisis.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7150533647096558945/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uberoisis.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Uberoisisters</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04607278715485846340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150533647096558945.post-4195431472905589559</id><published>2008-08-29T02:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T03:13:43.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Konichiwa from Japan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__7HXF06Fl6w/SLfLwQY_J3I/AAAAAAAAABA/1idomIydhqU/s1600-h/Photo+975.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__7HXF06Fl6w/SLfLwQY_J3I/AAAAAAAAABA/1idomIydhqU/s320/Photo+975.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239880721362790258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My journey to Tsuchuria, Japan:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My journey started at 6am on Wednesday, Augst 27th from Boca Raton, Florida. I kissed my family goodbye and Shikha didi dropped me to the airport. I had a smooth flight from Miami to Las Angeles. There was a nice lady to talk to, a nice roti to snack on and a firm pillow to rest with. I was sleepy enough to dose off for 3 hours and was woken up by the jerky landing on to the LAX runway. I freshened up and ate my last 'American' meal at Chilli's. One hour to go before my next flight. I chatted on the phone with my friends, our final reminiscing as we each were starting exciting and new journeys. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I arrived at my gate, 41B, it was as quiet as a Monestary. I had not set foot on Japanese soil yet I felt I was already there. People were minding their own business, classic Japanese teenagers with ipdos glued to their ears were busy testing their finger dexterity on hand held electronics while old men were sleeping upright in their chairs. One, Indian business man, good I don't feel so alone! Remembering the long flight and the disgusting airplane food, I grabbed a sandwich and a muffin from the adjacent bakery.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got to my window seat, 35J and prayed hard for an empty flight. God answered my prayer and granted me 5 seats all to myself! I leaped at the vacant row and immediately staked my claim, putting my bag on one seat, my sweater on another and myself in the middle. I slept and ate and slept as if I were a worn out animal who had been sleep deprived for three days. Just as I was getting reseltess, the plan landed at Narita International Airport at 3:30pm, August 28th.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As is my tradition, I sprinted through customs, causing a scene with my racket bag and messy hair flying behind me. Tennis? the officer asked, a quick nod was my response. I easily found my bus to Tsuchuria City and at exactly 4:15pm as indicated on my ticket, the bus drove off. I met an Indian mother with a 3 year old daughter. Her daughter decided to sit next to me and eventually fell asleep on my lap. I held on to the little girl as the bus turned and jerked its way through rural Japan. In 3 hours I saw traditional houses, rice patties, fields, mountains, shopping malls, hair salons (too many hair salons), car dealer ships, hotels, restaurants and arcades. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was a very cloudy and rainy evening and with each stop of the bus, the clouds got darker and the rain got heavier until finally at the last stop, the clouds and tar road were the same color and it was raining golf balls. It was 6:40pm. Fifteen minutes later I was in my hotel room, evading sleep and sipping Japanese tea until my eyes turned green. Hungry, tired and relieved, I fell in to a deep slumber.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is it about this country that I like so much? Is it the architecture of the infrastructure? Is it the way everything looks so neat and perfect. Every house, every ree is groomed and arranged with the preciseness of an origami creation. Japan looks so pristine, so organized. May I see the same 'order' I am seeking in my own, chaotic life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 29th 10am&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am at the grocery store. I love the packaging here. I feel as though I am a small child watching a magic trick as the young lady wraps my groceries in a bag and twists the plastic so delicately yet firm. I am looking for forks, I am handed chopsticks. I picture eating yogurt with them, interesting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6pm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is still raining. I am grateful for the free internet, perplexed by Japanese cartoons and grossed out by the cooking shows. My neck hurts from nodding, bowing and saying 'hai'. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7150533647096558945-4195431472905589559?l=uberoisis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uberoisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4195431472905589559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7150533647096558945&amp;postID=4195431472905589559' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7150533647096558945/posts/default/4195431472905589559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7150533647096558945/posts/default/4195431472905589559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uberoisis.blogspot.com/2008/08/konichiwa-from-japan_29.html' title='Konichiwa from Japan'/><author><name>Uberoisisters</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04607278715485846340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='03094794838742631674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__7HXF06Fl6w/SLfLwQY_J3I/AAAAAAAAABA/1idomIydhqU/s72-c/Photo+975.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150533647096558945.post-8139391579517525842</id><published>2008-06-13T11:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:53:13.467-08:00</updated><title type='text'>NEHA'S HOLI EXPERIENCE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__7HXF06Fl6w/SFLCt-U0UUI/AAAAAAAAAAg/urzinE3L_Jo/s1600-h/DSC01900.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__7HXF06Fl6w/SFLCt-U0UUI/AAAAAAAAAAg/urzinE3L_Jo/s320/DSC01900.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211441813901300034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi Everyone!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The last time I had the opportunity to play Holi in India, was when I was fourteen years old. My nana and nani, still had a bungalow (before it was turned in to an apartment building) and the entire of Juhu Scheme had a water balloon fight. I didn't enjoy it much, probably because I was targeted by a bunch of ill behaved boys. They broke my glasses and I can still remember the pain and embarrassment of all those water balloons hitting me.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This Holi, however, was the best time I have ever had during a holy day (pun intended). I must say that I have changed a lot since I was fourteen. I have come out of my 'shell' as most young women do by now. I am more understanding of people, their need for joy and myself. I am able to express myself to the world with confidence, genuineness and joy. On a day like Holi, millions feel this joy and I was so fortunate to have connected with people through this emotion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I celebrated with Shikha didi and Isha Lakhani (our fellow Indian tennis compatriot). We first played Holi in my building with our young neighbors. However, as one of the young boys grew more and more violent, us girls thought it wise to retreat back upstairs. Soon enough, the car came to take us to one of our cousins building party. As we entered the celebration,  colored water sprinklers set off and drenched all four hundred people! There was a live DJ, (thanks to Big 92 fm), mounds of holi rang, free food and drinks. People of all ages, sizes and colors (literally) came to dance, play and laugh in the holi mela.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What a time we had, Shikha didi, Isha, Romit (Romit Raj the TV serial actor), Raja Bhya and Shikha babhi (yes she has the same name as my sister). We danced and laughed and threw rang on each other for 3 hours straight! The four of us Shikha didi, Isha, Romit and I were so uninhibited we didn't care who was there or if any one was watching us. I danced my and heart out in a kind of trance you only witness in the movies or in holy, (holi) rituals.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We came home exhausted but with full spirits and  beaming smiles. My smile lasted as long as the color did on my body! Does anybody know why green rang takes the longest to come off?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7150533647096558945-8139391579517525842?l=uberoisis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uberoisis.blogspot.com/feeds/8139391579517525842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7150533647096558945&amp;postID=8139391579517525842' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7150533647096558945/posts/default/8139391579517525842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7150533647096558945/posts/default/8139391579517525842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uberoisis.blogspot.com/2008/06/nehas-holi-experience.html' title='NEHA&apos;S HOLI EXPERIENCE'/><author><name>Uberoisisters</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04607278715485846340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='03094794838742631674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__7HXF06Fl6w/SFLCt-U0UUI/AAAAAAAAAAg/urzinE3L_Jo/s72-c/DSC01900.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150533647096558945.post-8389835659686317429</id><published>2008-06-13T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:53:13.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Neha's Post June 13, 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__7HXF06Fl6w/SFK7WOU0UTI/AAAAAAAAAAY/etEik4V7HyA/s1600-h/DSC01900.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__7HXF06Fl6w/SFK7WOU0UTI/AAAAAAAAAAY/etEik4V7HyA/s320/DSC01900.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211433709298012466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7150533647096558945-8389835659686317429?l=uberoisis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uberoisis.blogspot.com/feeds/8389835659686317429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7150533647096558945&amp;postID=8389835659686317429' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7150533647096558945/posts/default/8389835659686317429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7150533647096558945/posts/default/8389835659686317429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uberoisis.blogspot.com/2008/06/nehas-post-june-13-2008.html' title='Neha&apos;s Post June 13, 2008'/><author><name>Uberoisisters</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04607278715485846340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='03094794838742631674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__7HXF06Fl6w/SFK7WOU0UTI/AAAAAAAAAAY/etEik4V7HyA/s72-c/DSC01900.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry></feed>