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Monday, June 30, 2014
Gates
The next day on the way to the office, my driver stopped so I could take photos of the beautiful gates in the walls of the huge houses near my hotel, on Adyar Gate Club Road and Archbishop Mathias Road.
At the Sports Bar
We meet up with Raja in a sports bar, where TVs were showing the World Cup, and where I was the only female present, for the entire evening. Not even a female server. Just another scenario in India where I am the only one of my category. :-)
It was not the typical American sports bar experience. Instead of there being loads of fans sitting together and cheering plays under giant screens and neon beer signs, this place had an Irish pub feel -- very dark lighting with heavy wood furniture and small TVs.
We had excellent food while we were not watching the World Cub. We had little finger snacks, like you would get in a US bar -- and Saj and Raja reminisced about the roasted peanuts in US bars, where you throw the shells onto the floor.
We had shrimp in Madras Masala -- I think that is what it was called -- which was so spicy and so fabulous! (Note to self - bring Madras Masala combination back to my own kitchen!!)
AND. We had boiled peanuts!!!! OMG, I thought only folks in the Southern US ate boiled peanuts!! They were so good! Though very interesting that they were served already shelled. Usually half the fun in eating them is cracking the shells and sometimes sucking out the salty water. Mmm mmm mmm!
And of course, cold beer. Because, what is an evening with Raja, without cold beer?!
It was not the typical American sports bar experience. Instead of there being loads of fans sitting together and cheering plays under giant screens and neon beer signs, this place had an Irish pub feel -- very dark lighting with heavy wood furniture and small TVs.
We had excellent food while we were not watching the World Cub. We had little finger snacks, like you would get in a US bar -- and Saj and Raja reminisced about the roasted peanuts in US bars, where you throw the shells onto the floor.
We had shrimp in Madras Masala -- I think that is what it was called -- which was so spicy and so fabulous! (Note to self - bring Madras Masala combination back to my own kitchen!!)
AND. We had boiled peanuts!!!! OMG, I thought only folks in the Southern US ate boiled peanuts!! They were so good! Though very interesting that they were served already shelled. Usually half the fun in eating them is cracking the shells and sometimes sucking out the salty water. Mmm mmm mmm!
And of course, cold beer. Because, what is an evening with Raja, without cold beer?!
Heading for home at 10pm
In the short ride to the sports bar where we were meeting Raja, Saj and I talked about his life since returning to India, and about the working lives of my offshore teammates.
Saj had lived in Charlotte for a while and worked on our system as a contractor. When Raja went back to India to set up the offshore team, he reached into the contractor firms and poached a number of the most knowledgeable resources as the foundation for his team.
Everyone came to employment for Raja with the knowledge that they would come to work at midday Chennai time, and then stay through about half of the US workday -- so they expect to leave for home at 9-10pm. M-F. This sounded OK on paper, and while everyone was still young. Yet as the realities creep in, it becomes taxing.
For example, most of our offshore team isn't assigned laptops as our US team is -- they work on desktops. So when working on a problem or when interfacing directly with a US teammate, though they have wifi at home for their personal electronics, they have to remain in the office.
Another thing -- more alarming to me, as I would never have thought of this issue-- is that the docile dogs I've seen trotting around or napping in the shade during the daytime, gang up into packs at night and run through the streets. This poses dangerous situations for our guys (and girls) who ride scooters and motorcycles (and especially bicycles!) to work. Imagine the terror of riding your scooter home, through dark streets, at 10pm, after a tiring day, only to be chased by a pack of feral dogs.
Another issue with traveling through the streets so late at night -- as I've mentioned before in this blog -- is the danger of attack women in India face daily. I shudder to think of Mena -- a mother with a newborn -- riding through dark streets at night.
Saj had lived in Charlotte for a while and worked on our system as a contractor. When Raja went back to India to set up the offshore team, he reached into the contractor firms and poached a number of the most knowledgeable resources as the foundation for his team.
Everyone came to employment for Raja with the knowledge that they would come to work at midday Chennai time, and then stay through about half of the US workday -- so they expect to leave for home at 9-10pm. M-F. This sounded OK on paper, and while everyone was still young. Yet as the realities creep in, it becomes taxing.
For example, most of our offshore team isn't assigned laptops as our US team is -- they work on desktops. So when working on a problem or when interfacing directly with a US teammate, though they have wifi at home for their personal electronics, they have to remain in the office.
Another thing -- more alarming to me, as I would never have thought of this issue-- is that the docile dogs I've seen trotting around or napping in the shade during the daytime, gang up into packs at night and run through the streets. This poses dangerous situations for our guys (and girls) who ride scooters and motorcycles (and especially bicycles!) to work. Imagine the terror of riding your scooter home, through dark streets, at 10pm, after a tiring day, only to be chased by a pack of feral dogs.
Another issue with traveling through the streets so late at night -- as I've mentioned before in this blog -- is the danger of attack women in India face daily. I shudder to think of Mena -- a mother with a newborn -- riding through dark streets at night.
SanThom
Our next stop was St Thomas Basilica, or SanThom as everyone calls it. Legend has it this Roman Catholic church was built upon the burial spot of Saint Thomas, who was one of the twelve disciples of Jesus Christ. Various tales surround his death near Chennai - whether he was an old man caring for a flock of early Christians who died a peaceful death, or a still enthusiastic evangelist who had drawn the ire of local holy men, who is to say.
We walked through the spitting rain to a building in the back of the main church, removed our shoes, and descended a staircase to an antechamber, where a stern nun cautioned us to keep silent (the threat of ear pulling unstated, but known nonetheless -- and really, what visit to a Catholic church is complete without a nun cautioning one to be quiet?).
Then we entered the burial chamber, a small chapel with a center row and pews on either side. At the top of the room was a clear box containing a reclining bearding mannequin suggesting St Thomas in death. The box was stood directly on dirt exposed through a rectangular hole cut in the stone floor, further urging the belief of the basilica being built directly on the site of the saint's final resting place. A section of human bone, framed in a shadowbox and purported to belong to the saint resting below, hung on a column to the right of the mannequin.
We sat in a pew for a few moments in silent reflection (neither Saj nor myself wanting to experience the Ear Treatment), and then headed out.
We walked through the main cathedral, which had been rebuilt in the 19th century in a British-preferred style, but was decorated in an unmistakably Indian fashion with flowers and bright colors. A female pastor was leading an evening service, reminding me of the evangelical services I've had the unexpected misfortune to attend, with folks in the congregation calling out to the pastor. We sat and observed. It was loud and earthy -- folks quickly going up the center aisle and to the right, to pray before a saint.
As we exited into the drizzle, Saj explained that this particular group of Catholic churches were somewhat more expressive than the RC church he had grown up in and still attends.
We walked through the spitting rain to a building in the back of the main church, removed our shoes, and descended a staircase to an antechamber, where a stern nun cautioned us to keep silent (the threat of ear pulling unstated, but known nonetheless -- and really, what visit to a Catholic church is complete without a nun cautioning one to be quiet?).
Then we entered the burial chamber, a small chapel with a center row and pews on either side. At the top of the room was a clear box containing a reclining bearding mannequin suggesting St Thomas in death. The box was stood directly on dirt exposed through a rectangular hole cut in the stone floor, further urging the belief of the basilica being built directly on the site of the saint's final resting place. A section of human bone, framed in a shadowbox and purported to belong to the saint resting below, hung on a column to the right of the mannequin.
We sat in a pew for a few moments in silent reflection (neither Saj nor myself wanting to experience the Ear Treatment), and then headed out.
We walked through the main cathedral, which had been rebuilt in the 19th century in a British-preferred style, but was decorated in an unmistakably Indian fashion with flowers and bright colors. A female pastor was leading an evening service, reminding me of the evangelical services I've had the unexpected misfortune to attend, with folks in the congregation calling out to the pastor. We sat and observed. It was loud and earthy -- folks quickly going up the center aisle and to the right, to pray before a saint.
As we exited into the drizzle, Saj explained that this particular group of Catholic churches were somewhat more expressive than the RC church he had grown up in and still attends.
Friday, June 27, 2014
Where are the Sunsets?
It occurs to me that I haven't experienced an actual sunset while in India.
It seems that most days the sky begins to cloud up after 4pm. And then the light just fades away into night. And much much earlier than we are having in Charlotte during this time of year. This week in Charlotte we could expect to have daylight until 8:30pm plus. But here it's dark by 6:30.
Additionally, there is only one timezone for the whole of India, so being on the East Coast in Chennai now it feels as if it becomes darker earlier than it did in Hyderabad.
It seems that most days the sky begins to cloud up after 4pm. And then the light just fades away into night. And much much earlier than we are having in Charlotte during this time of year. This week in Charlotte we could expect to have daylight until 8:30pm plus. But here it's dark by 6:30.
Additionally, there is only one timezone for the whole of India, so being on the East Coast in Chennai now it feels as if it becomes darker earlier than it did in Hyderabad.
Look for the Essence
Going south, on the left side of the road was a wide beach. The widest expanse of beach I've ever seen. There were none of the dunes I expected, and so the ground was flat from the road leading right to the strand.
Dotted along as we drove were little shops for tourists -- cool drink shops, hot snack shops, water toy shops, and the like. These little wooden structures were sitting right on the sand, and it being a Tuesday evening most were closed until the weekend. People strolled along. Some folks rode horses. Fisherman's boats were pulled up onto the sand.
After a short ways I began to see on the sand next to the road a few folks sitting on reed maps or tarps, with their catch for the day spread out in front of them, making their livelihood, shooing away the flies which buzzed around the fish and shrimp and crabs. In just a matter of a few more feet along the road, the fisherman were sitting on their mats in front of tiny, fragile huts made from bamboo and reeds and driftwood, which served as their homes -- built on the sand next to the road. I caught glimpses into some of the houses, where people laid on the ground on sandy blankets, or sat looking out into the distance.
The ladies doing the selling were thin, wizened beyond their years, and the children were half dressed and smiling.
On the right side of the road, away from the beach, was row after row of tiny, old structures which served as home for a good many people milling about in the lanes. Every so often there were water faucets sticking up out of the ground which served the population. Temples and churches took prime real estate looking toward the waters where the people made their living.
Trash was everywhere, papers and bags and bottles and organic materials, large and small, blowing in the breeze or piled up against the sides of buildings or heaped up on corners.
"These are some of the happiest people in the world, " Saj said.
After the tsunami the government built new houses for all the people who lived in that area, so close to the water. But they refused to live in the new houses. They needed to be near the sea. So they came back to the beach, and those who had lost houses built new ones as best they could, to live next to the bay which gives them life.
Dotted along as we drove were little shops for tourists -- cool drink shops, hot snack shops, water toy shops, and the like. These little wooden structures were sitting right on the sand, and it being a Tuesday evening most were closed until the weekend. People strolled along. Some folks rode horses. Fisherman's boats were pulled up onto the sand.
After a short ways I began to see on the sand next to the road a few folks sitting on reed maps or tarps, with their catch for the day spread out in front of them, making their livelihood, shooing away the flies which buzzed around the fish and shrimp and crabs. In just a matter of a few more feet along the road, the fisherman were sitting on their mats in front of tiny, fragile huts made from bamboo and reeds and driftwood, which served as their homes -- built on the sand next to the road. I caught glimpses into some of the houses, where people laid on the ground on sandy blankets, or sat looking out into the distance.
The ladies doing the selling were thin, wizened beyond their years, and the children were half dressed and smiling.
On the right side of the road, away from the beach, was row after row of tiny, old structures which served as home for a good many people milling about in the lanes. Every so often there were water faucets sticking up out of the ground which served the population. Temples and churches took prime real estate looking toward the waters where the people made their living.
Trash was everywhere, papers and bags and bottles and organic materials, large and small, blowing in the breeze or piled up against the sides of buildings or heaped up on corners.
"These are some of the happiest people in the world, " Saj said.
After the tsunami the government built new houses for all the people who lived in that area, so close to the water. But they refused to live in the new houses. They needed to be near the sea. So they came back to the beach, and those who had lost houses built new ones as best they could, to live next to the bay which gives them life.
Taking the Beach Road
Leaving the temple neighborhood we drove north along (what I think was) Kamarajar Promenade, seeing the Marina Walk along our right against the bay and lots of British-era buildings on the left. People were walking along the Marina Walk, enjoying the late afternoon breezes off the water.
Saj is wealth of historical info having grown up and been educated within Chennai, and makes a very good tour guide -- though he says this is his inaugural journey. He urges me to see past the superficial and seek to understand the essence of Chennai, and India.
The British buildings are beautifully maintained and have expansive lawns. The Governor's office is housed in an estate with a large wall and gate, and since elections were held only last week seems to be in residence -- the place surrounded by uniformed guards.
We turned around, Saj asked Palani to take Marina Beach Road (I think that's what he said). Being an American, I conjured a vision of what Marina Beach Road should look like.
I could not have been more wrong
Saj is wealth of historical info having grown up and been educated within Chennai, and makes a very good tour guide -- though he says this is his inaugural journey. He urges me to see past the superficial and seek to understand the essence of Chennai, and India.
The British buildings are beautifully maintained and have expansive lawns. The Governor's office is housed in an estate with a large wall and gate, and since elections were held only last week seems to be in residence -- the place surrounded by uniformed guards.
We turned around, Saj asked Palani to take Marina Beach Road (I think that's what he said). Being an American, I conjured a vision of what Marina Beach Road should look like.
I could not have been more wrong
The Temple at Triplicane
We started with an 8th century temple in a very old section of the city, just blocks from the Bay of Bengal. Elaborately carved pillars show their age, and support more recent (lighter colored) stonework capping off the structure. The temple is dedicated to two separate gods -- Krishna and Narasimha -- and each has a dedicated entrance.
The ambiance inside was very quiet, reverent, and worshippers were just starting to arrive for their after work prayers, carrying flowers, in all manner of dress from traditional to Western. The priest was in attendance, sitting on some steps in case anyone wanted to talk.The place felt sacred such that I, as a non-believer, was uncomfortable taking photos in such a holy place. Saj and I chose not to go into the chambers that actually held the gods.
Heading back to the car we were surrounded -- ok, we weren't surrounded but it felt like it -- by poor people, selling trinkets or flowers. "Madam. Madam. Madam." My guides and all 'tourist tips' literature in the hotels state that visitors shouldn't encourage or reward begging, but it breaks my heart to be this close to people who are so obviously poor and in need and not to try to help them somehow. It overwhelms the senses.
I got into our cab as unobtrusively as possible, and we drove away past the cows and the dogs, in air conditioned comfort.
The ambiance inside was very quiet, reverent, and worshippers were just starting to arrive for their after work prayers, carrying flowers, in all manner of dress from traditional to Western. The priest was in attendance, sitting on some steps in case anyone wanted to talk.The place felt sacred such that I, as a non-believer, was uncomfortable taking photos in such a holy place. Saj and I chose not to go into the chambers that actually held the gods.
Heading back to the car we were surrounded -- ok, we weren't surrounded but it felt like it -- by poor people, selling trinkets or flowers. "Madam. Madam. Madam." My guides and all 'tourist tips' literature in the hotels state that visitors shouldn't encourage or reward begging, but it breaks my heart to be this close to people who are so obviously poor and in need and not to try to help them somehow. It overwhelms the senses.
I got into our cab as unobtrusively as possible, and we drove away past the cows and the dogs, in air conditioned comfort.
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Tuesday at the Office
On Tuesday I went to lunch with Saj and some of the guys. I chose the Veg meal provider, however I have no recollection what I ate. I know I had bread, and I know I had sambar. I mentioned that I love sambar, and the guys joked that they've had to eat sambar every day of their lives and they no longer love sambar.
(I guess when I was young I would have said the same about grits.)
After lunch we dumped our leftovers into trashcans and handed the dishes through a window to the cleaning staff. Then I was ushered, along with all the men, through a bathroom looking door, into the Handwashing Room.
Whew! It really looked like a door leading into a bathroom, with big sinks beyond, and I couldn't imagine why I was encouraged to go in with the guys. :-D
(While I am known to eat with my hands -- chips, nuts, dry cereal, bread -- the eating of wet foods with hands is still freaking me out a little. The Handwashing Room is a really great use of real estate.)
After lunch we had a team meeting, where Raja formally introduced me to the team and where some awards for valuable contributions were handed out.
And then, Saj and I slipped away, for the first of my Chennai sightseeing tours.
(I guess when I was young I would have said the same about grits.)
After lunch we dumped our leftovers into trashcans and handed the dishes through a window to the cleaning staff. Then I was ushered, along with all the men, through a bathroom looking door, into the Handwashing Room.
Whew! It really looked like a door leading into a bathroom, with big sinks beyond, and I couldn't imagine why I was encouraged to go in with the guys. :-D
(While I am known to eat with my hands -- chips, nuts, dry cereal, bread -- the eating of wet foods with hands is still freaking me out a little. The Handwashing Room is a really great use of real estate.)
After lunch we had a team meeting, where Raja formally introduced me to the team and where some awards for valuable contributions were handed out.
And then, Saj and I slipped away, for the first of my Chennai sightseeing tours.
Following the Rules
It's a good thing that I went straight home on Monday night, as I learned on Tuesday that our corporate policy (in Chennai) is that employee guests from onshore should always be escorted by a local employee.
As a very independent American who lives alone and has no problem travelling alone (and regularly seeks opportunities to break rules!), this would normally have made me bristle, but the recent attacks on women in two villages in Lucknow -- coupled with the reports over the past few years of increasing violence against women in India, have given me pause.
And so I would not have wanted to break corporate rules, get myself in trouble, and inadvertently get Raja or Saj into trouble to boot.
As a very independent American who lives alone and has no problem travelling alone (and regularly seeks opportunities to break rules!), this would normally have made me bristle, but the recent attacks on women in two villages in Lucknow -- coupled with the reports over the past few years of increasing violence against women in India, have given me pause.
And so I would not have wanted to break corporate rules, get myself in trouble, and inadvertently get Raja or Saj into trouble to boot.
The "I" Factor
I was tired from the travelling and late day at the office, and I just wanted to grab a bag of chips and eat them on the bed wallowing in the crumbs, but I couldn't spot a little store in the hotel. So I went to the most casual of the restaurants for a quick bite.
The service was excellent. Prompt and helpful, but not over bearing. Even this small restaurant (Cappucino??) had an international menu, and there were a few other Westerners about. So I took a chance and ordered spaghetti bolognese.
Yes, yes, I know, I'm in India and I'm ordering Italian. But hey! I've been eating only Indian food for ten days, and I wanted a little variety. And, I spent my vacation last summer trying the spaghetti bolognese in every town in Italy we visited, so I wanted to do a little taste test.
There were two portions available, and I tried to order the half size, but the waiter wouldn't allow it. "No madam, it is verrry small, verrry small." So, I relented.
In keeping with the Sheraton reputation, the food was excellent -- very tasty, and authentic. The spaghetti was al dente, just as I knew it should be.
And I only ate about 2 thirds of the full portion, as I knew I would.
The service was excellent. Prompt and helpful, but not over bearing. Even this small restaurant (Cappucino??) had an international menu, and there were a few other Westerners about. So I took a chance and ordered spaghetti bolognese.
Yes, yes, I know, I'm in India and I'm ordering Italian. But hey! I've been eating only Indian food for ten days, and I wanted a little variety. And, I spent my vacation last summer trying the spaghetti bolognese in every town in Italy we visited, so I wanted to do a little taste test.
There were two portions available, and I tried to order the half size, but the waiter wouldn't allow it. "No madam, it is verrry small, verrry small." So, I relented.
In keeping with the Sheraton reputation, the food was excellent -- very tasty, and authentic. The spaghetti was al dente, just as I knew it should be.
And I only ate about 2 thirds of the full portion, as I knew I would.
Chennai Day 1
I jacked the AC up to 24C (75F - which is still colder than I keep my house), took a quickie shower and got ready for the office. The driver was waiting for me, and I was due at 2:30 pm.
After getting my laptop tagged for the Chennai office, which entailed more hard copies and ledger books and signatures in tiny boxes, and ensuring my badge works in this location, I turned in my iPhone at the phone window, collected my poker chip for later retrieval, and was given a tour by Saj.
We went first to say hello to Raja G, who had been my mgr before he returned to India. He gave me a big bear hug and we chatted a moment. I saw Biswa, who had been onshore last year for a while, and met some others. Then Saj took me to my office, which was Meeting Room 4.
It was damned cold in Meeting Room 4. And while the office was cold, all the people were very warm! I felt so welcomed and it was great meeting people from the team who I've only emailed or IM-ed with previously.
I set up my machine, and got back to work. This day, I actually had time to complete some pending training. I went downstairs at 5-ish, just to warm up my bones in the heat outside.
And at 7:30-ish just as I was hoping I could head over to a nearby mall alone, for some retail therapy, I had a real work issue that needed attention. So I headed back to the hotel, had a quick bite, and logged in for some more work
After getting my laptop tagged for the Chennai office, which entailed more hard copies and ledger books and signatures in tiny boxes, and ensuring my badge works in this location, I turned in my iPhone at the phone window, collected my poker chip for later retrieval, and was given a tour by Saj.
We went first to say hello to Raja G, who had been my mgr before he returned to India. He gave me a big bear hug and we chatted a moment. I saw Biswa, who had been onshore last year for a while, and met some others. Then Saj took me to my office, which was Meeting Room 4.
It was damned cold in Meeting Room 4. And while the office was cold, all the people were very warm! I felt so welcomed and it was great meeting people from the team who I've only emailed or IM-ed with previously.
I set up my machine, and got back to work. This day, I actually had time to complete some pending training. I went downstairs at 5-ish, just to warm up my bones in the heat outside.
And at 7:30-ish just as I was hoping I could head over to a nearby mall alone, for some retail therapy, I had a real work issue that needed attention. So I headed back to the hotel, had a quick bite, and logged in for some more work
Checking in in Chennai
The drive through Chennai from the airport to my hotel reminds me of Charleston. There are large shade trees whose arms reach out over the road, meeting in the middle. There are lots of palm trees and the grass is lush and green.
The city seems to be not as dusty as Hyderabad and there is definitely not as much graffiti or ads painted on the walls. There are darkly shaded smaller roads leading off the main roads, little side streets thick with tropical plants, which remind me of Hilton Head or Savannah.
And there are fewer blue tarp dandelions popped up in the empty spaces.
We pull up to the Park Sheraton, where men in starched bright white uniforms help me out of my car and over to the security area. Everyone going into the hotel must go through a security check -- including pat down behind a curtain for the ladies -- and the bags ride through on a conveyor belt.
Check in is very easy, and I am whisked to a card-secured floor, and left alone in my room with a giant bed.
Alone in for the first time in over ten days. Alone in my room where the AC has been set to 20C (68F). Alone and freezing.
The city seems to be not as dusty as Hyderabad and there is definitely not as much graffiti or ads painted on the walls. There are darkly shaded smaller roads leading off the main roads, little side streets thick with tropical plants, which remind me of Hilton Head or Savannah.
And there are fewer blue tarp dandelions popped up in the empty spaces.
We pull up to the Park Sheraton, where men in starched bright white uniforms help me out of my car and over to the security area. Everyone going into the hotel must go through a security check -- including pat down behind a curtain for the ladies -- and the bags ride through on a conveyor belt.
Check in is very easy, and I am whisked to a card-secured floor, and left alone in my room with a giant bed.
Alone in for the first time in over ten days. Alone in my room where the AC has been set to 20C (68F). Alone and freezing.
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Hyderabad to Chennai (Part 4)
We flew in over the water, it was so blue against the dusty orange of the land. I noticed from above that Chennai seems much greener overall than Hyderabad, and palm trees were prevalent.
I picked up my bags at the baggage claim and dialed the number for my driver, whose name I'd been given as Palani. Straight to voice mail. I dialed again. Voice mail.
So I texted to Saj, who has been my rock, coordinating everything and keeping me up to date and aware of the arrangements that have been made for me. (Thank you, Saj.)
While waiting to hear I continued to move forward, toward the doors and out to the bridge leading from Arrivals to the street. I was immediately surrounded by the humanity of Chennai.
Not that anyone was surrounding me, personally, but that there was so much humanity at the airport waiting for their loved ones and they were all pushing and crowding and hugging and yelling and waving, and I felt like I was the kid in that scene from Empire of the Sun when Jamie gets separated from his parents in the throng of people fleeing Shanghai, and the chaos and lack of my required personal space and being alone without my handlers for the first time in 10 days drives me close to hyperventilation.
And then my phone rang (thank you Raj), and it was Saj, who was able to reach the driver, Palani, who was waiting outside for me with a placard.
However, I learned that, as ours was an International (domestic) flight, I am waiting outside the International Terminal, while Palani is standing with his placard at the Domestic Terminal. So Saj arranged for Palani to come over to International, and pick me up. (Thank you, Saj.)
I picked up my bags at the baggage claim and dialed the number for my driver, whose name I'd been given as Palani. Straight to voice mail. I dialed again. Voice mail.
So I texted to Saj, who has been my rock, coordinating everything and keeping me up to date and aware of the arrangements that have been made for me. (Thank you, Saj.)
While waiting to hear I continued to move forward, toward the doors and out to the bridge leading from Arrivals to the street. I was immediately surrounded by the humanity of Chennai.
Not that anyone was surrounding me, personally, but that there was so much humanity at the airport waiting for their loved ones and they were all pushing and crowding and hugging and yelling and waving, and I felt like I was the kid in that scene from Empire of the Sun when Jamie gets separated from his parents in the throng of people fleeing Shanghai, and the chaos and lack of my required personal space and being alone without my handlers for the first time in 10 days drives me close to hyperventilation.
And then my phone rang (thank you Raj), and it was Saj, who was able to reach the driver, Palani, who was waiting outside for me with a placard.
However, I learned that, as ours was an International (domestic) flight, I am waiting outside the International Terminal, while Palani is standing with his placard at the Domestic Terminal. So Saj arranged for Palani to come over to International, and pick me up. (Thank you, Saj.)
Hyderabad to Chennai (Part 3)
I was running behind time due to waiting for the stamping at the Domestic Customs desk and being jumped in line by the tented ladies at Security, so I sprinted through the shiny, clean and modern International terminal, searching for my gate. When I found it I noticed with alarm that no AirIndia agents were manning the desk, even though we were only moments from the departure time. "Oh no, have I missed it???"
Then I noticed that the screen above the gate had "Scheduled Time of Departure" in the upper left, and "Expected Time of Departure" in the upper right. (wtf) Are late departures such a normal occurrence that the screen is hard-coded to support it??
At any rate, now I have time to eat. So I got a dosa with coconut chutney and a masala tea while I waited. And I took a stroll through the gift shop, where an oh-too-helpful sales attendant walked through with me, pointing out every item and offering various discounts, today only.
We left on schedule, expected schedule not scheduled schedule, and the flight was uneventful.
Then I noticed that the screen above the gate had "Scheduled Time of Departure" in the upper left, and "Expected Time of Departure" in the upper right. (wtf) Are late departures such a normal occurrence that the screen is hard-coded to support it??
At any rate, now I have time to eat. So I got a dosa with coconut chutney and a masala tea while I waited. And I took a stroll through the gift shop, where an oh-too-helpful sales attendant walked through with me, pointing out every item and offering various discounts, today only.
We left on schedule, expected schedule not scheduled schedule, and the flight was uneventful.
Hyderabad to Chennai (Part 2)
The flight was considered 'international', though I was a domestic passenger (wtf) -- and so I had to go to international terminal.
I filled out a customs sheet, and followed a line to the customs desk for domestic passengers, which no one was manning. Other domestic international travellers joined me and we stood there, waiting for someone to come, for quite some time actually, and when he did he gave our sheets a cursory glance and performed some heavy handed stamping with blue ink, and waved us on.
The security lines are divided to Male and Female, and the attendants are as well. I dropped my bags onto the belt to be xrayed, and went to the Female line, where there was one person ahead of me. The ladies in the long black dresses moved slowly, but not so slow that they couldn't let other big black dressed ladies jump ahead of me in line. It started with the old ones, and then the young ones got in the game, looking at me through their slits, in my harlot clothes and devil hair, daring me to object.
I sighed and watched the other stuff going on around us. Mainly that the guys in the white sarees had to remove the big leather belts to go through the security check. So they had to gather up and hold their clothes on while they were scanned and patted down.
When I was finally called to be scanned I stood on a box where I was scanned and patted, and left the curtained area to pick up my backpack.
Pepper spray disguised as perfume in my purse.
I filled out a customs sheet, and followed a line to the customs desk for domestic passengers, which no one was manning. Other domestic international travellers joined me and we stood there, waiting for someone to come, for quite some time actually, and when he did he gave our sheets a cursory glance and performed some heavy handed stamping with blue ink, and waved us on.
The security lines are divided to Male and Female, and the attendants are as well. I dropped my bags onto the belt to be xrayed, and went to the Female line, where there was one person ahead of me. The ladies in the long black dresses moved slowly, but not so slow that they couldn't let other big black dressed ladies jump ahead of me in line. It started with the old ones, and then the young ones got in the game, looking at me through their slits, in my harlot clothes and devil hair, daring me to object.
I sighed and watched the other stuff going on around us. Mainly that the guys in the white sarees had to remove the big leather belts to go through the security check. So they had to gather up and hold their clothes on while they were scanned and patted down.
When I was finally called to be scanned I stood on a box where I was scanned and patted, and left the curtained area to pick up my backpack.
Pepper spray disguised as perfume in my purse.
Hyderabad to Chennai (Part 1)
On the drive to the airport Monday morning the driver opened it up! He spends most of his driving time inching around Hyderabad, beeping politely at all manner of vehicle, pedestrian and livestock on the road ahead of him, and this was his time to put the pedal to the metal. The road was wide, and we were almost alone with 7:30am being very early for India.
Coming into the airport in the daytime was a lovely drive, just beautiful! We approached on a long avenue with a center line of palm trees and green medians. There were sculptures, and sculptural plantings along the way.
Interestingly, you must show your itinerary to get into the doors of the airport, even before any checking of bags or getting to the kiosk to check in. Only fliers can come into the airport.
I was dreadfully underdressed at the airport, though I hadn't thought so when I left home in below the knee jean shorts and a tee from Tarjay. Perhaps I was simply underdressed relative to the folks standing in the check-in line next to me who were flying to Saudi Arabia.
While I would never claim to be an expert on Middle Eastern garb, I know that generally men will wear a long white dress with a red scarf / hat with black band. The women will generally wear all black, long, with various levels of head / hair / face coverage.
This manner of dress was present, yet many of the folks in the line to Jeddah were dressed in a costume unlike I'd ever seen.
The women were in the long black dress, but their heads were covered with long white covers. And the men seemed to be garbed in thick, bright white terry cloth sarees which wrapped around and around, then over the shoulder, and which was secured at the waist by a wide leather belt with a big buckle.
Coming into the airport in the daytime was a lovely drive, just beautiful! We approached on a long avenue with a center line of palm trees and green medians. There were sculptures, and sculptural plantings along the way.
Interestingly, you must show your itinerary to get into the doors of the airport, even before any checking of bags or getting to the kiosk to check in. Only fliers can come into the airport.
I was dreadfully underdressed at the airport, though I hadn't thought so when I left home in below the knee jean shorts and a tee from Tarjay. Perhaps I was simply underdressed relative to the folks standing in the check-in line next to me who were flying to Saudi Arabia.
While I would never claim to be an expert on Middle Eastern garb, I know that generally men will wear a long white dress with a red scarf / hat with black band. The women will generally wear all black, long, with various levels of head / hair / face coverage.
This manner of dress was present, yet many of the folks in the line to Jeddah were dressed in a costume unlike I'd ever seen.
The women were in the long black dress, but their heads were covered with long white covers. And the men seemed to be garbed in thick, bright white terry cloth sarees which wrapped around and around, then over the shoulder, and which was secured at the waist by a wide leather belt with a big buckle.
Saree Party
We had decided I would borrow from Lek's closet to attend Lax's party. This way we have no pressure to find something suitable, and I have no pressure to buy something that may be more dressy than my usual life requires. (Plus the whole Giant Old Lady thing.)
Lax had been telling me about this party for months -- when the family buys and presents the daughter with her first saree, and then introduces her to the world.
I had assumed it would have religious or ritualistic overtones -- a script to follow… here she is before, here she is after…. I didn't see any of that. If a script exists, Lax opted for a more casual performance.
What I did see was a chance for people to dress up in their most beautiful clothing -- and I do mean, there were some breathtakingly beautiful sarees there -- and most glamorous makeup -- and have their pictures taken.
After the unveiling of Mellissa and Jasmine in their beautiful new sarees, a receiving line started at the left of the stage and each family filed across, tossing rice onto the girls' heads, and taking their photo opp.
Lek and I, being the non-traditional girls you know and love, worked our way through the untouched -- and very delicious -- buffet line (twice), and slipped through the artful fence into the male dominated bar section. I ordered a Kingfisher and we ate while watching the photos. The girls were becoming tired you could tell, of smiling for so long.
We had to leave early by IST, as I'm flying to Chennai on Monday morning, so we slipped out the door when the entertainment started.
Very nice party indeed!
Lax had been telling me about this party for months -- when the family buys and presents the daughter with her first saree, and then introduces her to the world.
I had assumed it would have religious or ritualistic overtones -- a script to follow… here she is before, here she is after…. I didn't see any of that. If a script exists, Lax opted for a more casual performance.
What I did see was a chance for people to dress up in their most beautiful clothing -- and I do mean, there were some breathtakingly beautiful sarees there -- and most glamorous makeup -- and have their pictures taken.
After the unveiling of Mellissa and Jasmine in their beautiful new sarees, a receiving line started at the left of the stage and each family filed across, tossing rice onto the girls' heads, and taking their photo opp.
Lek and I, being the non-traditional girls you know and love, worked our way through the untouched -- and very delicious -- buffet line (twice), and slipped through the artful fence into the male dominated bar section. I ordered a Kingfisher and we ate while watching the photos. The girls were becoming tired you could tell, of smiling for so long.
We had to leave early by IST, as I'm flying to Chennai on Monday morning, so we slipped out the door when the entertainment started.
Very nice party indeed!
 |
| This is the cook I tripped on |
The Audacity of Madam Hoof Foot
Sunday NB and I went to a salon. He went for a haircut, I had a blowout and a manicure. I was amazed that we could go for three reasons - first, he had made an appointment and we were almost thirty minutes late arriving. Next, I didn't have an appointment, but Lek was sure I'd get in no probs. Last, it was a hair salon and it was open on Sunday.
The salon was a Brit chain, and could have been anywhere in the world. Hip staff with fun hair and uber fad clothes. Loud music -- EuroTechno, American -- TVs showing fashion shows and hair styles.
The service was great. With my blowout I got a fabulous head massage and a nice blow dry.
My manicure was good as well, though I was sitting next to an Indian lady who was giving the staff what-for! She sent someone out to get Q-tip swabs. She was not happy with the guy who was doing his best to sand her hooves back to foot shapes. She was not happy with the girl doing the manicure. She was constantly on the phone, dialing, answering, not allowing the manicure girl to do her job on her hands.
Then, abruptly Hoof Foot said others in the household need the car, to go to the airport, so she will have to come back at 4pm to complete her services. WTF! The customer service folks from the front desk came to the back, helped her out with her stuff, and she was gone.
(So now, this didn't really qualify as my usual WTF, but just the audacity of Madam Hoof Foot... I've never experienced anything like that.)
The salon was a Brit chain, and could have been anywhere in the world. Hip staff with fun hair and uber fad clothes. Loud music -- EuroTechno, American -- TVs showing fashion shows and hair styles.
The service was great. With my blowout I got a fabulous head massage and a nice blow dry.
My manicure was good as well, though I was sitting next to an Indian lady who was giving the staff what-for! She sent someone out to get Q-tip swabs. She was not happy with the guy who was doing his best to sand her hooves back to foot shapes. She was not happy with the girl doing the manicure. She was constantly on the phone, dialing, answering, not allowing the manicure girl to do her job on her hands.
Then, abruptly Hoof Foot said others in the household need the car, to go to the airport, so she will have to come back at 4pm to complete her services. WTF! The customer service folks from the front desk came to the back, helped her out with her stuff, and she was gone.
(So now, this didn't really qualify as my usual WTF, but just the audacity of Madam Hoof Foot... I've never experienced anything like that.)
A Brush with Fame
After they kicked us out of Q Mart, we stopped for dinner on the way home at N Grill, which is owned by Nagarjuna, a Telugu film star and producer and who was actually there when we arrived… Lek noticed, I wouldn't have known him from Adam.
I was tired and don't really recall what I ate. But I did notice the artwork. Unfortunately the lighting and my terrible camera skills don't do it justice.
And NB ordered a fabulous looking dessert - which everyone shared. (That boy has a hollow leg!)
I was tired and don't really recall what I ate. But I did notice the artwork. Unfortunately the lighting and my terrible camera skills don't do it justice.
And NB ordered a fabulous looking dessert - which everyone shared. (That boy has a hollow leg!)
Casing The Joint
Sat night we went to Q Mart, which is a larger grocery store with lots of international products. I took a lot of photos. I went to India expecting to find the exotic, and instead I found Harris Teeter.
(The security guard thought my photography session odd, so he followed me around the entire store. He really needs to watch some American movies, to brush up on his surveillance skills.)
When was the last time I saw Tang??!! ("It's what the astronauts drink")
Here are just a few, but there were many, many more.
(The security guard thought my photography session odd, so he followed me around the entire store. He really needs to watch some American movies, to brush up on his surveillance skills.)
When was the last time I saw Tang??!! ("It's what the astronauts drink")
Here are just a few, but there were many, many more.
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Bloody Saturday
Saturday morning again. The sounds of cricket being played in the dirt field outside the dining room balcony.
The sky in the distance holds dark clouds, but the rain never comes. I can see them piling on one another, but they stay away. Supposedly rain serves to 'break the heat'. Yet, the temps this morning were very nice – low humidity and nice breeze. We actually left the doors open for thirty minutes.
It was a weird day, there was something ominous in the air. In the morning the cricketers left almost immediately after they arrived. And the shepherd brought over the water buffalo but they wouldn’t go into the pond -- they just kept trying to leave, with the shepherd running and shooing all around. Finally he took them back to wherever they live.
He tried to bring them again a few hours later, but again the buffalo wouldn’t go to the water and he gave up.
I have been trying to help out around the house -- to earn my keep. Today Lekha was showing me the water softener machine, which is on the balcony off the kitchen… and my eyes were looking in a different direction than my feet….. and I hit my head on a corner of cabinet. It bled immediately, and bad, pouring down onto my forehead… we iced it and stopped the bleeding… (Lek as a mother -- imagine it guys!)
I’m fine…. I never got a headache, and the ice apparently kept it from swelling.
I stood on the balcony and watched the goings on around us.
The sky in the distance holds dark clouds, but the rain never comes. I can see them piling on one another, but they stay away. Supposedly rain serves to 'break the heat'. Yet, the temps this morning were very nice – low humidity and nice breeze. We actually left the doors open for thirty minutes.
It was a weird day, there was something ominous in the air. In the morning the cricketers left almost immediately after they arrived. And the shepherd brought over the water buffalo but they wouldn’t go into the pond -- they just kept trying to leave, with the shepherd running and shooing all around. Finally he took them back to wherever they live.
He tried to bring them again a few hours later, but again the buffalo wouldn’t go to the water and he gave up.
I have been trying to help out around the house -- to earn my keep. Today Lekha was showing me the water softener machine, which is on the balcony off the kitchen… and my eyes were looking in a different direction than my feet….. and I hit my head on a corner of cabinet. It bled immediately, and bad, pouring down onto my forehead… we iced it and stopped the bleeding… (Lek as a mother -- imagine it guys!)
I’m fine…. I never got a headache, and the ice apparently kept it from swelling.
I stood on the balcony and watched the goings on around us.
Counterfeit Cash!
On the way back from the deflation of shopping-but-not-buying, we stopped in to a new restaurant that NB had tried just that day for lunch -- F Café - where we had a very nice non-Indian dinner: Pizza, veggie burger-Mexicali thing, nachos, cold beer, nice wine. We sat outside on a covered porch, away from the volume of the music, protected from the sprinkling rain.
As we were leaving, walking through the still spitting rain toward the car, the waiter ran after us. One of the bills I'd given in payment was 'counterfeit'.
WTF?
We went back inside and the waiter explained the cashier has a machine that can tell if the bills are real. Lek and I were sure all the bills I gave him we had retrieved from the ATM. Until we examined the bill and saw that it was old and crumply.
Seems in the eight years since Atit has visited India the currency has changed somewhat, and the bill that raised the alarm was from Atit's stash. In looking at it we could tell that the foil strip was a different color.
Certainly an 8-year-old bill is still valid -- but no need fighting the point here, we can take it up at a bank.
We exchanged the bill -- though I sensed the waiter wanted a little more retribution than this -- and we were on our way.
Thanks again, Atit! :-)
As we were leaving, walking through the still spitting rain toward the car, the waiter ran after us. One of the bills I'd given in payment was 'counterfeit'.
WTF?
We went back inside and the waiter explained the cashier has a machine that can tell if the bills are real. Lek and I were sure all the bills I gave him we had retrieved from the ATM. Until we examined the bill and saw that it was old and crumply.
Seems in the eight years since Atit has visited India the currency has changed somewhat, and the bill that raised the alarm was from Atit's stash. In looking at it we could tell that the foil strip was a different color.
Certainly an 8-year-old bill is still valid -- but no need fighting the point here, we can take it up at a bank.
We exchanged the bill -- though I sensed the waiter wanted a little more retribution than this -- and we were on our way.
Thanks again, Atit! :-)
A Bad Shopping Experience
The next afternoon the sky grew heavy and in Charlotte it would have been sure to rain. The threatening horizon lasted for hours and I was holding my breath waiting.
It had not cleared by dark when we were leaving the office, and as we drove away it was spitting raindrops. But only just.
We drove quite a ways through rush hour traffic to a nice store where we were sure to find something cool for me to wear to Lax's party on Sunday evening, driving into a very nice area where the houses were large, the walls were tall, and the roads were almost non-existent. Where they was paved road, piles of dirt and debris had been dumped, and we were reduced to one lane most of the way, threading in and out with the oncoming traffic who had also braved the route. We joked the poor road construction was to keep the great unwashed out -- As NB said, "if you don't build it, maybe they won't come. "
While ours was a very nice store, unfortunately everything in Giant Gori Size was colored and shaped as if made for old ladies -- none of the hip looks I'd spotted on the girls at the mall earlier. And while I may be a Giant Gori, and old(-ish) at that, I'm not gonna dress like it! Dammit!! We left without buying, and again braved the gauntlet of the non-road.
(And since when did I become a Giant??! By American current standards I'm almost emaciated!!)
It had not cleared by dark when we were leaving the office, and as we drove away it was spitting raindrops. But only just.
We drove quite a ways through rush hour traffic to a nice store where we were sure to find something cool for me to wear to Lax's party on Sunday evening, driving into a very nice area where the houses were large, the walls were tall, and the roads were almost non-existent. Where they was paved road, piles of dirt and debris had been dumped, and we were reduced to one lane most of the way, threading in and out with the oncoming traffic who had also braved the route. We joked the poor road construction was to keep the great unwashed out -- As NB said, "if you don't build it, maybe they won't come. "
While ours was a very nice store, unfortunately everything in Giant Gori Size was colored and shaped as if made for old ladies -- none of the hip looks I'd spotted on the girls at the mall earlier. And while I may be a Giant Gori, and old(-ish) at that, I'm not gonna dress like it! Dammit!! We left without buying, and again braved the gauntlet of the non-road.
(And since when did I become a Giant??! By American current standards I'm almost emaciated!!)
Monday, June 23, 2014
Eating at the Mall
On Friday I shifted to a window office next to Lek, and I learned that the phones only make calls to the US. So I checked in with a couple of folks to let them know I'm ok.
Then my US friend Raj P took me to lunch at the mall.
The InOrbit mall in Hyderabad looks like almost any mall anywhere. We entered through the Hyderabadi version of Walmart and walked through to the interior -- falling prices listed in rupees.
The mall is huge! Four stories of retail heaven, with food courts and bars and restaurants.
We went to Fusion 9 and sat at the expansive windows with a view across a busy thoroughfare of a lake. There were grasses around the lake and water buffalo grazing.
The restaurant was beautiful and the food excellent. Instead of having a buffet line, they offer an option where you order the special -- appetizer, main course, dessert, coffee/tea -- by Veg or Non-Veg -- and it is basically all you care to eat. Raj ordered the Non, I had the Veg.
I had:
Then my US friend Raj P took me to lunch at the mall.
The InOrbit mall in Hyderabad looks like almost any mall anywhere. We entered through the Hyderabadi version of Walmart and walked through to the interior -- falling prices listed in rupees.
The mall is huge! Four stories of retail heaven, with food courts and bars and restaurants.
We went to Fusion 9 and sat at the expansive windows with a view across a busy thoroughfare of a lake. There were grasses around the lake and water buffalo grazing.
The restaurant was beautiful and the food excellent. Instead of having a buffet line, they offer an option where you order the special -- appetizer, main course, dessert, coffee/tea -- by Veg or Non-Veg -- and it is basically all you care to eat. Raj ordered the Non, I had the Veg.
I had:
- Fried spinach balls
- Water chestnuts in sauce
- Paneer in pepper sauce (Delish!)
- Spinach, carrot, peas curry (Delish!)
- Rice
- Tiramisu (not really, but it was very good!)
Second Day
TH morning is wonderful, we step outside at 11am and it feels like 75 degrees with low humidity. Almost perfect.
NB called to the caf and had some water bottles sent to my temp office. The guy delivering them called me "madam", and asked if I wanted coffee or tea brought to me -- at no charge. Took my order and was back in a snap. Bytes and Starbucks really need to take a lesson.
I got caught up on emails and learned that my US team had tied up the issue from yesterday while I had been sleeping last night. Thanks Shelia, Prakash, Johnson, Craig, et al. This is how global teamwork is supposed to work!
I was able to complete 80% of a deliverable that was coming due, and we headed home at 8-ish.
There was an 'Audio Release' party happening by the pool this evening. Lek's building is owned by a movie star turned politician, and oftentimes local / regional TV, music and movie industries hold functions in the lawn and banquet areas. The singing and dancing was first rate, but by the time I grabbed by camera and hopped the elevator the performers were done. Temps and humidity were terrific again tonight so I stood around enjoying the air for a while.
And then headed to bed.
(Today on the way to the office was the first time I saw Wet Butt Syndrome -- as referenced by the links in this earlier post on toilets.)
NB called to the caf and had some water bottles sent to my temp office. The guy delivering them called me "madam", and asked if I wanted coffee or tea brought to me -- at no charge. Took my order and was back in a snap. Bytes and Starbucks really need to take a lesson.
I got caught up on emails and learned that my US team had tied up the issue from yesterday while I had been sleeping last night. Thanks Shelia, Prakash, Johnson, Craig, et al. This is how global teamwork is supposed to work!
I was able to complete 80% of a deliverable that was coming due, and we headed home at 8-ish.
There was an 'Audio Release' party happening by the pool this evening. Lek's building is owned by a movie star turned politician, and oftentimes local / regional TV, music and movie industries hold functions in the lawn and banquet areas. The singing and dancing was first rate, but by the time I grabbed by camera and hopped the elevator the performers were done. Temps and humidity were terrific again tonight so I stood around enjoying the air for a while.
And then headed to bed.
(Today on the way to the office was the first time I saw Wet Butt Syndrome -- as referenced by the links in this earlier post on toilets.)
First Day in Office (Con't)
Within minutes I have a visitor -- a longtime friend. We started working together in 1997 with the same consulting firm at a corporate site beginning just weeks after he arrived in the US from India. Srini and I worked together off and on for 5+ years, and have stayed in touch. It's really great connecting with an old friend -- and this time in his ballpark!
His group was having a team-building ping pong tourney, which Srini was playing in. There were also Carrom games going on.
I had an Indian donut and a Coke (my first American treat in five days).
Afterwards I have planned to work on a deliverable and catch up on some required training, but as the US wakes up a problem comes to light and I spend time chasing down the issue. It feels good to be contributing from so far away from my office.
By the end of the day my US badge has been activated.
We go home, and have our tea ritual.
Out of Touch!
Sorry I've been out of touch!
I have actually been WORKING during the days, and then travelling. So I'm over a week behind -- with so many adventures to recount!
I'll catch up soon I hope, else I'll jump ahead and then fill in backwards.
I have actually been WORKING during the days, and then travelling. So I'm over a week behind -- with so many adventures to recount!
I'll catch up soon I hope, else I'll jump ahead and then fill in backwards.
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
First Day at the Office
Late afternoon Lek headed off to airport. She has been tapped to travel the country teaching Architectural Principals and our corporate standards, travelling almost every week, becoming a corporate superstar!
Wednesday I'm scheduled to go to the office with NB. I need to remember to leave my phone at home, as Smart Phones are not allowed into the office, for security purposes.
While the other corporations within HiTech City splash their names on the buildings -- Google, HSBC, Dell -- our employer chooses to fly stealth with a nondescript building and no visible markings. Security uses mirrors to look under every car, and opens every trunk as we drive in.
NB takes me to security to activate my badge and register my laptop. I'm surprised at how manual the sign in process is. Large ledger books are kept for tracking my temp badge and my laptop. My laptop gets a sticker to show registration. Hard copies of the emails requesting my access are stapled to official forms and filed. Smart phones are traded for numbered poker chips, and stored with the security guard for retrieval later. I sign hard copies for everything.
I'm given a tour of the building -- the same as any cube farm I've ever worked in, except it's been many years since I've seen an actual cafeteria -- and am installed in a conference room just doors down from NB.
Wednesday I'm scheduled to go to the office with NB. I need to remember to leave my phone at home, as Smart Phones are not allowed into the office, for security purposes.
While the other corporations within HiTech City splash their names on the buildings -- Google, HSBC, Dell -- our employer chooses to fly stealth with a nondescript building and no visible markings. Security uses mirrors to look under every car, and opens every trunk as we drive in.
NB takes me to security to activate my badge and register my laptop. I'm surprised at how manual the sign in process is. Large ledger books are kept for tracking my temp badge and my laptop. My laptop gets a sticker to show registration. Hard copies of the emails requesting my access are stapled to official forms and filed. Smart phones are traded for numbered poker chips, and stored with the security guard for retrieval later. I sign hard copies for everything.
I'm given a tour of the building -- the same as any cube farm I've ever worked in, except it's been many years since I've seen an actual cafeteria -- and am installed in a conference room just doors down from NB.
Monday, June 16, 2014
TV
When I arrived back to Lek's I find her alone in the apartment watching TV and ironing. She has Dish Network and is catching up on her US favorites. We watch Homeland (is Carrie crazy, or is she not??? Who is trying to recruit her?) and Criminal Minds (I love a good serial killer in the afternoon!)
I'm amazed by the number of ads / promos / messages hovering on the screen at all times. In US the network logo either pops up periodically or sits stationary and somewhat unobtrusively on the lower right corner, and some special promos may briefly feed across the bottom. Here the network logo takes a permanent throne on the screen, and promos and ads may come at bottom, top, corners at any time or all the time.
On some channels the commercial time triggers a countdown in the upper left -- so you know how much time you have to run to the fridge or the WC. Hurry up!
Intermittently a serial number pops up right in the middle of the screen in a black box -- showing the consumer's Dish license, I've assumed.
Additionally the English shows have subtitles -- in English. WTF? Am I missing the point? Wouldn't the English show be subtitled in Hindi or Telugu or… some local language which the viewer may speak while he does not speak / read English?? Or perhaps the TV is being used to practice American English listening and / or enunciation?
Or... could it be... that American English is such a foreign sound, that is requires subtitles for the locals to understand?????
I'm amazed by the number of ads / promos / messages hovering on the screen at all times. In US the network logo either pops up periodically or sits stationary and somewhat unobtrusively on the lower right corner, and some special promos may briefly feed across the bottom. Here the network logo takes a permanent throne on the screen, and promos and ads may come at bottom, top, corners at any time or all the time.
On some channels the commercial time triggers a countdown in the upper left -- so you know how much time you have to run to the fridge or the WC. Hurry up!
Intermittently a serial number pops up right in the middle of the screen in a black box -- showing the consumer's Dish license, I've assumed.
Additionally the English shows have subtitles -- in English. WTF? Am I missing the point? Wouldn't the English show be subtitled in Hindi or Telugu or… some local language which the viewer may speak while he does not speak / read English?? Or perhaps the TV is being used to practice American English listening and / or enunciation?
Or... could it be... that American English is such a foreign sound, that is requires subtitles for the locals to understand?????
Aside: World Cup
I have never known how the entire world is World Cup crazy -- except the Americans -- until now!
A Drive (Part 3)
Large covered bus stops service the population and have wide advertisements plastered above the riders on three sides
-- "Happy Holiday. Enjoy the monsoon with a new hairstyle from Whoziwhatzimanian".
Every now and then a guy will be walking with a large animal. I have no clue what type of animal, something with big horns, but they walk down the same street as the cars and the bikes and the auto rickshaws.
As we get closer to HiTech, the retail lining the roads shifts to American and European stores - Tommy Hilfiger, Reebok, Brooks Brothers, Pepe Jeans -- and food options -- Pizza Hut, McDs, Subway, Menchi's, TGI Fridays. Gone are the open air shops, replaced with large glass windows and bright lights and colors. Ice cream. Full ghee sweets. Opticals. Mobile phones.
The buildings become taller and set back from the road, some with security forces out front, checking that you are really meant to be there.
We pull into Lek's complex and the guard starts to walk over to the car, but then he spots me and waves us in. I am easily recognizable and apparently memorable.
Every now and then a guy will be walking with a large animal. I have no clue what type of animal, something with big horns, but they walk down the same street as the cars and the bikes and the auto rickshaws.
As we get closer to HiTech, the retail lining the roads shifts to American and European stores - Tommy Hilfiger, Reebok, Brooks Brothers, Pepe Jeans -- and food options -- Pizza Hut, McDs, Subway, Menchi's, TGI Fridays. Gone are the open air shops, replaced with large glass windows and bright lights and colors. Ice cream. Full ghee sweets. Opticals. Mobile phones.
The buildings become taller and set back from the road, some with security forces out front, checking that you are really meant to be there.
We pull into Lek's complex and the guard starts to walk over to the car, but then he spots me and waves us in. I am easily recognizable and apparently memorable.
A Drive (Part 2)
We drive on the left, like the Brits, and there is some type of median separating the directions -- either a low concrete structure with plantings or taller moveable concrete barrier like we use in the US for road construction, or tall metal walls keeping folks away from the construction of an elevated light rail system. Periodically there is a break in the median for crossing or making U-turns.
We drive through various neighborhoods and districts, and the terrain changes along the way. There are sections where large homes peek from between shops. There is a long stretch of park-like setting, there is a long narrow lake with a tall Buddha statue in the middle. Stone walls sit back from the road, covered top to bottom with hand painted advertisements -- "Genious Working Men's Hostel", "Sri Sri Balawhoever Ayurvedic Hospital", "To Let". Movie posters plastered in a row peel up around the edges and flap in the breeze.
We drive through a park-like setting that I soon realize is a university campus -- Law building, Engineering building, Women's Hostel Nbr 1. There are sidewalks here, and lots of young people walking with a purpose.
All shapes and constructions of carts are stationed along the routes in the more neighborhood-feeling areas -- tiny carts piled with limes, larger carts standing along side stacked stalks of young coconuts, carts with sugar cane and a contraption that seems to press the juice by turning a wheel (looking like my grandmother's old manual Singer sewing machine). Men and women push their carts to their favorite spots, often rolling on bicycle-type wheels.
We drive through various neighborhoods and districts, and the terrain changes along the way. There are sections where large homes peek from between shops. There is a long stretch of park-like setting, there is a long narrow lake with a tall Buddha statue in the middle. Stone walls sit back from the road, covered top to bottom with hand painted advertisements -- "Genious Working Men's Hostel", "Sri Sri Balawhoever Ayurvedic Hospital", "To Let". Movie posters plastered in a row peel up around the edges and flap in the breeze.
We drive through a park-like setting that I soon realize is a university campus -- Law building, Engineering building, Women's Hostel Nbr 1. There are sidewalks here, and lots of young people walking with a purpose.
All shapes and constructions of carts are stationed along the routes in the more neighborhood-feeling areas -- tiny carts piled with limes, larger carts standing along side stacked stalks of young coconuts, carts with sugar cane and a contraption that seems to press the juice by turning a wheel (looking like my grandmother's old manual Singer sewing machine). Men and women push their carts to their favorite spots, often rolling on bicycle-type wheels.
Sunday, June 15, 2014
A Drive (Part 1)
Another drive alone.
By this time I have gotten beyond being overwhelmed by the traffic and have started looking at the surroundings and the humanity. This, again, is another facet of life in India which overwhelms the senses.
Leaving Lax's apartment, wide streets are lined with shops. Tiny, traditional open air shops next to large, air conditioned stores with fabulous ethnic clothing in the windows next to mid-rise office type buildings, next to KFC. There is new construction, and empty buildings of three or four or five stories that seem to be under renovation. Sometimes an abandoned building where Keep Out signs have been broken down by the squatters now living there.
There are no side walks, and people walk wherever they can on the edge of the road, so many people, some walking in amongst the traffic, some crossing. Sometimes motorcycles or scooters drive against traffic on the pedestrian edge -- blatantly illegal behavior, but quicker than the alternative.
Every so often there is an empty lot, often with a large sign stating ownership -- "This plot is the property of Mrs. S.V. Sriwhoever". Whether it has stood that way for sometime or been cleared away for a building that never materialized, it is invariably dotted with slum shacks of corrugated metal and faded blue plastic tarps, which spring up like dandelions. There seems to be no logic to the placement of shacks. A city block-sized empty lot may have only two shacks leaning together, while one a quarter of the size may have twenty. People sit on the ground or on large rocks while children run and play.
Often a little blue tarp shack in an empty lot is a restaurant, serving the folks who live, work, and walk by. Sometimes a little shack has been constructed right on the edge of the road, forcing people to walk out into the street to get around it. Sometimes it is a tiny brightly colored temple that is placed there, in the way, remorseless of inconvenience caused due to its sacred purpose.
By this time I have gotten beyond being overwhelmed by the traffic and have started looking at the surroundings and the humanity. This, again, is another facet of life in India which overwhelms the senses.
Leaving Lax's apartment, wide streets are lined with shops. Tiny, traditional open air shops next to large, air conditioned stores with fabulous ethnic clothing in the windows next to mid-rise office type buildings, next to KFC. There is new construction, and empty buildings of three or four or five stories that seem to be under renovation. Sometimes an abandoned building where Keep Out signs have been broken down by the squatters now living there.
There are no side walks, and people walk wherever they can on the edge of the road, so many people, some walking in amongst the traffic, some crossing. Sometimes motorcycles or scooters drive against traffic on the pedestrian edge -- blatantly illegal behavior, but quicker than the alternative.
Every so often there is an empty lot, often with a large sign stating ownership -- "This plot is the property of Mrs. S.V. Sriwhoever". Whether it has stood that way for sometime or been cleared away for a building that never materialized, it is invariably dotted with slum shacks of corrugated metal and faded blue plastic tarps, which spring up like dandelions. There seems to be no logic to the placement of shacks. A city block-sized empty lot may have only two shacks leaning together, while one a quarter of the size may have twenty. People sit on the ground or on large rocks while children run and play.
Often a little blue tarp shack in an empty lot is a restaurant, serving the folks who live, work, and walk by. Sometimes a little shack has been constructed right on the edge of the road, forcing people to walk out into the street to get around it. Sometimes it is a tiny brightly colored temple that is placed there, in the way, remorseless of inconvenience caused due to its sacred purpose.
Saturday, June 14, 2014
Dumblevenk or Vendydore
I've decided Lax's brother Venky is a wizard. Though there are countless reasons why, here are just a few:
- He can make five minutes last for hours, typically while driving through traffic
- He has a car like the Harry Potter knight bus, which he can shift the shape in order to slip through available breaks in traffic
- He can open beer bottles just by tapping the bottle with supersonic speed against the iron railing of the terrace
Coconut Chutney
When we got up Satish was back, watching television on a non-English channel. Which language, I have no clue, but he kept me up on the story lines as he did his morning stretches from the floor. The shows were melodramatic, the acting over the top, and I could figure out the emotions on my own.
One quick show was a story of the gods -- not sure which but he was counseling a guy in a chariot to do the right thing. Next there were a succession of shows similar to US soap operas -- it was easy to tell which was the trouble-making female by the smirk on her face as she stirred the pot. Another was obviously two different girls after the same saintly guy, while he calms a bucking horse and falls for a third.
Pad, Mellissa, Jasmine and I had a large brekkie at Chutney's before Pad's guy drove me back to HiTech City.
Again we had the stuffed dosas, and this time we added steamed dosas. True to the name, Chutney's had a large selection of chutneys to choose-- sweet or savory. I fell in love with steamed dosa with coconut chutney. OMG, the coconut chutney!
I'll be learning to make these!
Fotos for the Foodies:
One quick show was a story of the gods -- not sure which but he was counseling a guy in a chariot to do the right thing. Next there were a succession of shows similar to US soap operas -- it was easy to tell which was the trouble-making female by the smirk on her face as she stirred the pot. Another was obviously two different girls after the same saintly guy, while he calms a bucking horse and falls for a third.
Pad, Mellissa, Jasmine and I had a large brekkie at Chutney's before Pad's guy drove me back to HiTech City.
Again we had the stuffed dosas, and this time we added steamed dosas. True to the name, Chutney's had a large selection of chutneys to choose-- sweet or savory. I fell in love with steamed dosa with coconut chutney. OMG, the coconut chutney!
I'll be learning to make these!
Fotos for the Foodies:
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I Say Pajama; You Say Pyjama!
Pad had spent many years in a joint household in Satish's family home, and while there so enjoyed familial closeness that when the entire clan decided to move to apartments they chose to live in the same road. Furthermore, rather than risk losing the close contact with her immediate family, Pad and Satish decided to take a small two bedroom apartment which favors togetherness. She encourages that the entire family sleep in the large air conditioned bedroom, as a way of staying close.
It was into this air conditioned bedroom home that six females ages eight to 53 tumbled for the night. Satish disappeared into some house or other in the road, I don't know where.
We lounged around on the big bed, talking and giggling. I learned of Geethi's ranking, which she had just received that day, allowing her entrance into a prestigious engineering school. We talked of the struggles of teenage life -- and compared US teen life to Indian teen life.
Pad pinned jasmine flowers into Rose's hair, filling the room with a wonderful smell, and we decided that Rose would henceforth be called Jasmine.
Eventually our eyes became heavy. Geethi and Sai took places on the floor at the foot of the bed, the others of us on the bed proper. We turned out the light, and slept.
I woke to the sound of sweeping down in the street and the smell of jasmine.
Spending the Night
With all the visiting and racing and eating and drinking, time slipped away and I never ensured my return transport had been arranged. After we were all stuffed with (only half!) the food Pad brought us, it suddenly occurred to me.
Ever the manager, Pad grabbed her phone and called her guy -- her catering business has a cab driver on a monthly retainer -- but he couldn't pick me until 12:30am. Add an hour for driving time across the city, and this would put me getting home at 1:30. I definitely didn't want to wake Lek, NB and Parental Units.
Eventually it was decided that I should just stay.
I sent a text to Lek that I would be a dirty stayout, and went home with Pad, Satish, Geethi and Sai (and Mellissa and Rose).
Friday, June 13, 2014
The One in Which I Eat
Upon our return home the electricity was out. Everyone was hanging out on the terrace, enjoying the cool(-ish) promising breezes. Officials had been called, and now it was just a matter of waiting.
The sky had been overcast most of the day and everyone hoped for rain, but as we sat on the terrace we saw the first glow of moonlight through parting clouds.
Around the corner, in the short leg of the L-shaped terrace, a woman hung clothes to dry in the night breeze.
Venky produced tall bottles of Kingfisher beer, and the men (and me!) enjoyed some cool brews while the kids ran races and laughed and the women bustled about. Visitors came and went, in laws, out laws, relatives of relatives. Coming to visit Lax or others. Plastic chairs pulled into larger circles then smaller circles.
Rose pulled a chair into the center of the circle, commanding everyone's attention. I hadn't the heart to tell her that 'the cheese stands alone'.
Presently Pad showed up with leftovers from her evening catering gig and she brought out foods to share like appetizers. We had cool watermelon. There was chicken, which I don't usually eat, but was cajoled into having -- and it had a wonderful smoky flavor. There was fish -- which I had seen prepared on a cooking show just the day before -- coated with many spices and (I think) grilled. There were large, crispy, savory snack crackers which I think were called appa, and murkku. So much food, coming and coming from the kitchen to the terrace.
(It sounds like all I do here is eat!!!)
The sky had been overcast most of the day and everyone hoped for rain, but as we sat on the terrace we saw the first glow of moonlight through parting clouds.
Around the corner, in the short leg of the L-shaped terrace, a woman hung clothes to dry in the night breeze.
Venky produced tall bottles of Kingfisher beer, and the men (and me!) enjoyed some cool brews while the kids ran races and laughed and the women bustled about. Visitors came and went, in laws, out laws, relatives of relatives. Coming to visit Lax or others. Plastic chairs pulled into larger circles then smaller circles.
Rose pulled a chair into the center of the circle, commanding everyone's attention. I hadn't the heart to tell her that 'the cheese stands alone'.
Presently Pad showed up with leftovers from her evening catering gig and she brought out foods to share like appetizers. We had cool watermelon. There was chicken, which I don't usually eat, but was cajoled into having -- and it had a wonderful smoky flavor. There was fish -- which I had seen prepared on a cooking show just the day before -- coated with many spices and (I think) grilled. There were large, crispy, savory snack crackers which I think were called appa, and murkku. So much food, coming and coming from the kitchen to the terrace.
(It sounds like all I do here is eat!!!)
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Monday Afternoon
On Monday I went back to Lax for the day.
I dropped Lek and NB at the office, and their driver took me into town. This was the first time I've taken a drive unchaperoned, and taken a long drive in the day light. I can't find another word to describe it besides overwhelming. It is exhausting driving through the crazy traffic, even from the backseat.
When I arrived I learned to my delight they had held lunch for me -- and what a lunch it was! As usual, I didn't take notes and as such have probably forgotten what I ate… I think there was dal and rice, and I know there were three desserts.
One of them was a variation on the gulab jamun we had at the Westin, and I think this one is called kala jamun -- whatever it's called, it is fantastic! And I think Pad made it!!!
(As an aside, here is a website I've found -- an American girl cooking Indian -- there are recipes and cooking tips. Take a look.)
Next, we went looking at banquet halls for a party Lax's family is having. When a girl reaches a certain age, the family buys her first saree and has, basically, an unveiling party. Since we were travelling to India this year, Maataaji wanted to have a large family party and this was a handy excuse. Due to some unforeseen issues, the planning had to be left until the last minute. So now we were scrambling.
We drove to see four different halls. This was in addition to the four or so Lax had seen the day before. Two were meh, and were really not worth the time and effort in the traffic it took us to get there. Two were very nice.
We were gone about four hours on this errand, for something that -- in Charlotte, including distance, traffic, and viewing time -- would have taken less than two.
I dropped Lek and NB at the office, and their driver took me into town. This was the first time I've taken a drive unchaperoned, and taken a long drive in the day light. I can't find another word to describe it besides overwhelming. It is exhausting driving through the crazy traffic, even from the backseat.
When I arrived I learned to my delight they had held lunch for me -- and what a lunch it was! As usual, I didn't take notes and as such have probably forgotten what I ate… I think there was dal and rice, and I know there were three desserts.
One of them was a variation on the gulab jamun we had at the Westin, and I think this one is called kala jamun -- whatever it's called, it is fantastic! And I think Pad made it!!!
(As an aside, here is a website I've found -- an American girl cooking Indian -- there are recipes and cooking tips. Take a look.)
Next, we went looking at banquet halls for a party Lax's family is having. When a girl reaches a certain age, the family buys her first saree and has, basically, an unveiling party. Since we were travelling to India this year, Maataaji wanted to have a large family party and this was a handy excuse. Due to some unforeseen issues, the planning had to be left until the last minute. So now we were scrambling.
We drove to see four different halls. This was in addition to the four or so Lax had seen the day before. Two were meh, and were really not worth the time and effort in the traffic it took us to get there. Two were very nice.
We were gone about four hours on this errand, for something that -- in Charlotte, including distance, traffic, and viewing time -- would have taken less than two.
Bangles and Beer
Sunday night we went to dinner at the Westin in HiTech City, as Lek and NB's friend Ro was in from Delhi.
This is a beautiful upscale hotel that could just as well been set down in San Francisco, Paris, Tokyo. There was a beautiful 'green wall' of live plants as we walked down the stone staircase to the Indian restaurant, Kangan.
The restaurant had a very cool wall where hundreds of bangles hung from wooden dowels.
The service was great. The food was fabulous, I really don't remember everything I ate -- definitely not the names of the dishes -- but I know there was fish and I know there were lady fingers (okra -- which I would never eat in the US). As an appetizer there was a hung cheese (WTF) and herb patty that was lightly fried on each side. I had a coupla Kingfishers. At the end we shared a wonderful dessert tray.
As we were leaving we were treated to a complimentary bangle, which was hand-made while we waited.
This is a beautiful upscale hotel that could just as well been set down in San Francisco, Paris, Tokyo. There was a beautiful 'green wall' of live plants as we walked down the stone staircase to the Indian restaurant, Kangan.
The restaurant had a very cool wall where hundreds of bangles hung from wooden dowels.
The service was great. The food was fabulous, I really don't remember everything I ate -- definitely not the names of the dishes -- but I know there was fish and I know there were lady fingers (okra -- which I would never eat in the US). As an appetizer there was a hung cheese (WTF) and herb patty that was lightly fried on each side. I had a coupla Kingfishers. At the end we shared a wonderful dessert tray.
As we were leaving we were treated to a complimentary bangle, which was hand-made while we waited.
Lazy Sunday
The party only lasted about two hours -- I missed watching it because we were eating great Bengali food -- and the break down began immediately. When I got up about 7am on Sunday, the reception was barely a memory, the last few stacks of chairs being loaded and carted away.
The skies were overcast and pregnant with moisture, where you can almost feel the clouds touching your head, but it never rained. It stayed this way all day. This is what is called waiting for monsoon.
We had our morning tea with biscuits, and I had some Danone yogurt I bought at the supermarket. A new cricket match was under way. The water buffalo had magically appeared at the pond -- I never see them arrive or leave.
And a set up is underway for a new party.
It was a lazy day of naps, cooking shows, tea, and waiting for monsoon.
The skies were overcast and pregnant with moisture, where you can almost feel the clouds touching your head, but it never rained. It stayed this way all day. This is what is called waiting for monsoon.
We had our morning tea with biscuits, and I had some Danone yogurt I bought at the supermarket. A new cricket match was under way. The water buffalo had magically appeared at the pond -- I never see them arrive or leave.
And a set up is underway for a new party.
It was a lazy day of naps, cooking shows, tea, and waiting for monsoon.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
From the Window
After the errands, it was a typical Saturday. Lek and NB bustled around the apartment, doing their typical weekend stuff. I gazed out the windows at the life all around.
HiTech City is basically like Miami, only without an ocean. Gleaming white high rises stand all around, lush tropical plants grow both in planned landscaping and naturally.
Out Lek's window there are other apartment buildings standing tall around. We are grouped ready to pounce around a huge piece of undeveloped land, left to its own abandon, perhaps ownership in dispute, and definitely not cashing in. In the left corner closest to us is a shallow water hole -- it may be fine to call it a pond -- where water plants have sprung up. Each day someone brings over a herd of less than twenty water buffalo, complete with calves, to hang out. Where do they go at night?
In the center on the right is an area where pick-up game cricketers have pounded away the scrubby grasses. They come early morning on the weekends, arriving on their motorbikes, and play all day. As usual, the rules of the game, and the attraction, elude me, but these boys are fanatics.
Lek's apartment has a huge clubhouse that houses a gym, nice outdoor pool, banquet hall, and giant lush lawn. In the lawn preparations for an elaborate wedding reception are underway. I watch as a gazebo is constructed on the stage, and an archway is constructed over the entrance to the lawn. Both are wrapped in fabric and covered with decorations. Dining tables and chairs are set up. A large food line with table cloths and silver chafing dishes are arranged. A guy spends a lot of time constructing artificial trees out of leaf-less branches, where he hangs clear glasses with tea light candles.
The preparations take all day. Around 6pm uniformed servers appear. We're very curious, so Kuku (NB's mom) and I go downstairs to take a look. Here are some photos below (I know my photos suck, get used to it):
HiTech City is basically like Miami, only without an ocean. Gleaming white high rises stand all around, lush tropical plants grow both in planned landscaping and naturally.
Out Lek's window there are other apartment buildings standing tall around. We are grouped ready to pounce around a huge piece of undeveloped land, left to its own abandon, perhaps ownership in dispute, and definitely not cashing in. In the left corner closest to us is a shallow water hole -- it may be fine to call it a pond -- where water plants have sprung up. Each day someone brings over a herd of less than twenty water buffalo, complete with calves, to hang out. Where do they go at night?
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In the center on the right is an area where pick-up game cricketers have pounded away the scrubby grasses. They come early morning on the weekends, arriving on their motorbikes, and play all day. As usual, the rules of the game, and the attraction, elude me, but these boys are fanatics.
Lek's apartment has a huge clubhouse that houses a gym, nice outdoor pool, banquet hall, and giant lush lawn. In the lawn preparations for an elaborate wedding reception are underway. I watch as a gazebo is constructed on the stage, and an archway is constructed over the entrance to the lawn. Both are wrapped in fabric and covered with decorations. Dining tables and chairs are set up. A large food line with table cloths and silver chafing dishes are arranged. A guy spends a lot of time constructing artificial trees out of leaf-less branches, where he hangs clear glasses with tea light candles.
The preparations take all day. Around 6pm uniformed servers appear. We're very curious, so Kuku (NB's mom) and I go downstairs to take a look. Here are some photos below (I know my photos suck, get used to it):
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Running Errands
After I became a novitiate in the art of dunking, Lek and I ran household errands.
Stepping from the elevator, I see we are indeed surrounded by lush yards of grass, with tropical trees and shrubs all around. The parking lot has more of those cool pavers, and is filled with all mode of transport from scooters to luxury BMWs. While most of the makes I recognize (Hyundai, Toyota, Volkswagen, TaTa, Daewoo, etc.), I do not recognize the model names. I've assumed these are manufactured specifically for countries who value smaller cars.
Lek's contract driving service is waiting for us in an air conditioned minivan. We drove through the complex and back into India.
We went to a bank branch. I've never seen so many people or much activity in a branch before in my life. There are little signs above the stations -- Loan Central, Deposits, etc. There are ATMs. The branch manager's office was right by the door -- my recollection of US branches -- not that I go into a banking center more than twice a year these days -- is that the manager's office is the furthest from the door. There were people walking around officiously, helping people, but I couldn't find any indication of how to identify them as bank staff -- no name tag, no uniform, dressed as casually as the customers. There were people sitting in chairs in the center of the room near the door… for what? Were they waiting to be helped? Had they taken a number? Did anyone know they were there?
We went to an ATM for a different banking institution. We entered the door and followed a hallway, and stepped into a cubby where we closed heavy wooden doors behind us. The ATM was the same -- just with rupees instead of USD.
Then we went to the supermarket. It was generally similar to US supermarkets, with surprising differences. First, it is about the size of the supermarket I grew up with in the 60s and 70s in smalltown SC -- small and manageable (not a four hour trip to the food mall). Next, in the produce section the fruits are weighed for cost, but the veggies are not -- WTF? There is an attendant who weighs your fruit for you, who also takes care of the shelves around his station. Milk comes in plastic bags, as does batter for different types of bread. There are products that are reminiscent of my US products -- with very similar packaging and names… Dannon yogurt is Danone yogurt, etc. There are so many people working there, and many people are cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. Taking inventory off the shelves, cleaning the shelves, cleaning the inventory. There are many folks running the registers and bagboys… real bagboys. It was a step back in time.
And as we left, a security guard verified our sales receipt.
And then, our errands were done.
Stepping from the elevator, I see we are indeed surrounded by lush yards of grass, with tropical trees and shrubs all around. The parking lot has more of those cool pavers, and is filled with all mode of transport from scooters to luxury BMWs. While most of the makes I recognize (Hyundai, Toyota, Volkswagen, TaTa, Daewoo, etc.), I do not recognize the model names. I've assumed these are manufactured specifically for countries who value smaller cars.
Lek's contract driving service is waiting for us in an air conditioned minivan. We drove through the complex and back into India.
We went to a bank branch. I've never seen so many people or much activity in a branch before in my life. There are little signs above the stations -- Loan Central, Deposits, etc. There are ATMs. The branch manager's office was right by the door -- my recollection of US branches -- not that I go into a banking center more than twice a year these days -- is that the manager's office is the furthest from the door. There were people walking around officiously, helping people, but I couldn't find any indication of how to identify them as bank staff -- no name tag, no uniform, dressed as casually as the customers. There were people sitting in chairs in the center of the room near the door… for what? Were they waiting to be helped? Had they taken a number? Did anyone know they were there?
We went to an ATM for a different banking institution. We entered the door and followed a hallway, and stepped into a cubby where we closed heavy wooden doors behind us. The ATM was the same -- just with rupees instead of USD.
Then we went to the supermarket. It was generally similar to US supermarkets, with surprising differences. First, it is about the size of the supermarket I grew up with in the 60s and 70s in smalltown SC -- small and manageable (not a four hour trip to the food mall). Next, in the produce section the fruits are weighed for cost, but the veggies are not -- WTF? There is an attendant who weighs your fruit for you, who also takes care of the shelves around his station. Milk comes in plastic bags, as does batter for different types of bread. There are products that are reminiscent of my US products -- with very similar packaging and names… Dannon yogurt is Danone yogurt, etc. There are so many people working there, and many people are cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. Taking inventory off the shelves, cleaning the shelves, cleaning the inventory. There are many folks running the registers and bagboys… real bagboys. It was a step back in time.
And as we left, a security guard verified our sales receipt.
And then, our errands were done.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Dunking My Biscuits
Saturday morning I woke early to the sound of birds and to the light filtering through a blind into my room. I washed up and went out into the central room, where I was introduced by NB's parents to the morning ritual of tea.
NB is from Kolkata / Calcutta, which is the capital of West Bengal and the third most populated metropolitan area in India. Historically Bengalis choose a form of Darjeeling over the typical chai tea. No milk or sugar is used. Biscuits (slightly sweet cookies) are dunked into the tea, reminding me of a scene in The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, when the Judi Dench character says of dunking:
NB is from Kolkata / Calcutta, which is the capital of West Bengal and the third most populated metropolitan area in India. Historically Bengalis choose a form of Darjeeling over the typical chai tea. No milk or sugar is used. Biscuits (slightly sweet cookies) are dunked into the tea, reminding me of a scene in The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, when the Judi Dench character says of dunking:
(It) Means lowering the biscuit into the tea and letting it soak in there and trying to calculate the exact moment before the biscuit dissolves, when you whip it up into your mouth and enjoy the blissful union of biscuits and tea combined. It’s more relaxing than it sounds.
Settling In
After the girls left I got settled in.
I unpacked my things.
I unpacked the things I brought for Lek -- hooray for twelve rolls of Bounty and six sticks of Burts Bees!!! I put my suitcase in the bag room. I stowed my bathroom stuff under the long counter. I was presented with a soft roll of TP.
I learned how to use the electrical switches and plugs (sounds simple, but a little different from the US - for example, you have to turn on the plugs). I saw that some of the bathroom switches are outside the door, and some of the switches are inside the door. I learned about the air conditioning units positioned variously throughout the apartment -- how to turn on, how to set the temperature. I learned about the bottled water machine, and the efforts taken to ensure people consume -- but not waste! -- clean safe drinking water. These things sound so intuitive, but I felt like I was seeing everything for the first time. Which I guess, upon reflection, I was.
We got me set up with the house wifi, so I was back in communication with the world… both via WhatsApp and via email. Hello World!
I visited with Lek and NB for a while. It was as if it had only been yesterday since we saw each other, we fell in so naturally. And became better acquainted with NB's parents -- as much as we could, given the limits of our common words.
And then I learned that the guest room bed is too soft for the parents. They would be sleeping on the firm sofas in the living area, I would have the guest room and bath for myself. I was shooed to bed almost without protest.
I unpacked the things I brought for Lek -- hooray for twelve rolls of Bounty and six sticks of Burts Bees!!! I put my suitcase in the bag room. I stowed my bathroom stuff under the long counter. I was presented with a soft roll of TP.
I learned how to use the electrical switches and plugs (sounds simple, but a little different from the US - for example, you have to turn on the plugs). I saw that some of the bathroom switches are outside the door, and some of the switches are inside the door. I learned about the air conditioning units positioned variously throughout the apartment -- how to turn on, how to set the temperature. I learned about the bottled water machine, and the efforts taken to ensure people consume -- but not waste! -- clean safe drinking water. These things sound so intuitive, but I felt like I was seeing everything for the first time. Which I guess, upon reflection, I was.
We got me set up with the house wifi, so I was back in communication with the world… both via WhatsApp and via email. Hello World!
I visited with Lek and NB for a while. It was as if it had only been yesterday since we saw each other, we fell in so naturally. And became better acquainted with NB's parents -- as much as we could, given the limits of our common words.
And then I learned that the guest room bed is too soft for the parents. They would be sleeping on the firm sofas in the living area, I would have the guest room and bath for myself. I was shooed to bed almost without protest.
The Tour
My first impression of Lek's apartment, upon walking through the door, is of a vast white coolness -- much like in the movie when Harry Potter visits Dumbledore (both dead) in Kings Cross Station. The walls are brightest white and the floors are white marble. Multiple fans spin in the large central room.
We bring in the bags, drop our shoes, and take a quick tour. Off the central room is a huge kitchen with a service terrace, a guest bedroom with ensuite bath, a pooja room, and an office area tucked under the stairs. Up the marble staircase with stainless steel railing there are other bedrooms, bathrooms, and an open central den overlooking the stairs. One of the bedrooms is a nursery which houses NB's baby -- a professional grade stereo system! (Ha! Fooled ya!)
The bathrooms are most impressive to me, as they are large, nicely appointed with shower enclosures and large countertop areas. Very Western indeed.
Lek serves water, we meet NB and his parents, and Lax and Sai take their leave.
See you soon!
We bring in the bags, drop our shoes, and take a quick tour. Off the central room is a huge kitchen with a service terrace, a guest bedroom with ensuite bath, a pooja room, and an office area tucked under the stairs. Up the marble staircase with stainless steel railing there are other bedrooms, bathrooms, and an open central den overlooking the stairs. One of the bedrooms is a nursery which houses NB's baby -- a professional grade stereo system! (Ha! Fooled ya!)
The bathrooms are most impressive to me, as they are large, nicely appointed with shower enclosures and large countertop areas. Very Western indeed.
Lek serves water, we meet NB and his parents, and Lax and Sai take their leave.
See you soon!
Shifting Apartments
Lax's niece Sai, Pad's daughter, was charged with driving me from the city proper out to Lek's apt in HiTech City. She and Lax would also be running an errand and picking up Pad from a friend's house.
As we set out from the house I realized this was the first time I've been out into actual traffic, as the previous morning from the airport did not count… Apparently Hybad traffic is dead from 11pm until 7am. It was certainly not dead this evening!
Night was falling and there were so many vehicles on the road. The lines are a suggestion, not a rule. And beeping does not mean "What are you doing, you freakin' idiot!", but instead means "Kindly be aware fellow traveler that I am right here behind you".
I can say with all honesty that driving in Hyderabad is an art form and Sai is an artiste. She takes this route everyday to her university, so is very familiar. She weaves in and out of the traffic with the best.
The buildings in Lek's community are lettered as you drill deeper into the complex and away from the main road -- A, B, C. In walking through the parking lot toward the elevator we notice lawns and palm trees. Lek comes down to greet us and help bring the bags.
We are all amazed by the apartment.
The Bath
I did my own bathing, thank you very much. This was my first Indian shower, so I had to remember the technique from conversations (thank you again, Atit, you've been my font of needful information).
Most Indian bathrooms don't have enclosures separating the spraying water from the other fixtures -- they figure water is water and it's ok if it splashes around. Typically a big bucket is filled with water from a faucet on the wall, and the shower-er takes a big plastic cup and pours water over himself. The washing and rinsing is done with the big cup. Easy peasy, right?
Except, to continue the comical disconnects of the day, a plumbing repair had come at just this hour, so the water in the house was turned off. Someone had filled two big buckets (somewhere…) and brought to the bathroom in prep.
I did ok. For my first time. It takes practice to implement a new process. :-D
Maybe I didn't rinse enough, definitely I didn't get all the oil off. But I will do better next time.
After I was done with my massage and my ablutions, Padma insisted that I nap. And when I awoke the entire troupe of travelers were asleep on the bed in the air conditioned bedroom.
It was a very good nap.
And then I made my way to Lek's.
First Massage
After lunch, with fifteen minutes to digest, I was again shepherded through the house to a quiet room, where I was left to the capable hands of the masseuse. Pad had sent out for olive oil for my massage, and Yesh kept asking if I wanted garlic with that. I thought , if we add some lemon juice to my hair and some red pepper flakes, I can be scampi.
As she was bustling away I asked Pad where can I shower afterwards… to get the olive oil off. "Do you want her to bathe you as well?" Pad asked. And she was serious. 8-O
Ummm, no. Thank you for the kind offer. I can manage. 8-{
The massage was excellent! The masseuse had nice strong hands and took long deep strokes. We had a language gap, so there was no talking required. She massaged my head and did some spinal stuff I'd never had before. I was very relaxed when it was all over.
Very nice after a long flight.
Between Breakfast and Lunch
The struggle for connectivity continued -- Yesh spent time reaching out to help desks about his phone and his dongle. His clients back in the US were waiting for his assistance. And all around him in the air conditioned bedroom the party continued.
We learned that the driver who was thought to come to pick me was out of pocket, so Lax's family had a discussion and made other plans for me to travel to Lek's.I just listened, and trusted they knew best.
Somehow the conversation turned to ayurveda and massage, and Pad was excited to know how much I loved massages. So she got on the phone and scheduled her own masseuse to come to the house for me. That day. That very afternoon. For less than $10!!
Presently wonderful smells filled the house and it was time again to eat. I was shepherded into the dining room with Lax, where we had wonderful food…. Cannot remember now what, but I know that Pad was mothering, making sure I had the best morsels. She was standing over and bustling around and adding food to my plate, but she would not sit. "No, no, I will eat presently."
Only at the very end did it hit me that Lax and I were the only females amongst a crowd of men. Though there were many females in the house, but none were eating. After the men left the table, only then did the women of the house sit for lunch.
Purple Tongues and Accidental Cleavage
We found the girls napping in the air conditioned bedroom, and Lax was concerned they would have jet lag if they slept too long, so we all piled into the room, on the bed and in chairs around the bed, laughing and talking and jiggling the bed to disturb their sleep.
Then Pad took a look at my list of things to do and see, and in quick order produced the required nalla nerendupand mentioned in an earlier post. I will credit this digestion cleanser for keeping me safe in while in India. Here is my purple tongue for proof.
No amount of laughing, talking, tickling could wake Mellissa and Rose. But the rest of us had fun.
Then Pad took a look at my list of things to do and see, and in quick order produced the required nalla nerendupand mentioned in an earlier post. I will credit this digestion cleanser for keeping me safe in while in India. Here is my purple tongue for proof.
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No amount of laughing, talking, tickling could wake Mellissa and Rose. But the rest of us had fun.
After Breakfast
After brekkie, we came back home to start the day.
Yesh was trying to work this day, but was having major issues with his connectivity -- dongle, phone everything. He spent the entire day trying to get connected… this morning was just the beginning.
We had mango, and honestly this was the best mango I've ever had in my life. Though everyone else billed it as 'not yet sweet enough'. (Yesh had three bowls. Just sayin'....)
Then we strolled a half block to a store to look for a shirt for a friend who had entrusted us with his prized shirt from this specific store to use as example. However, the security guard stopped us because the store -- though open -- was having a staff meeting and we would need to come back in twenty minutes. What?? A store that is OPEN, turning customers away?????
While strolling back I noticed these really cool pavers in the parking lot.
Yesh was trying to work this day, but was having major issues with his connectivity -- dongle, phone everything. He spent the entire day trying to get connected… this morning was just the beginning.
We had mango, and honestly this was the best mango I've ever had in my life. Though everyone else billed it as 'not yet sweet enough'. (Yesh had three bowls. Just sayin'....)
Then we strolled a half block to a store to look for a shirt for a friend who had entrusted us with his prized shirt from this specific store to use as example. However, the security guard stopped us because the store -- though open -- was having a staff meeting and we would need to come back in twenty minutes. What?? A store that is OPEN, turning customers away?????
While strolling back I noticed these really cool pavers in the parking lot.
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