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).

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!!!)

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.

Welcome Home!

We arrived at Lax's parent's mid-town apartment about 4am Hybad time. As it was so late, it had been decided that I would head to Lek's place tomorrow.

No matter that the hour was so late, or so early as the case may be, the entire household was up and ready to visit. Everyone crowded into Maataaji and Pitaaji's bedroom for hugs -- even I was herded in with the whole family to be introduced.

We then moved the party into the living room, where we talked and laughed. The room had large windows onto a huge terrace on the front side, and french doors onto a service terrace on the back side, creating a nice cross-breeze. A strong three-paddle fan overhead added to the cooling.

We sat around on two sofas and some chairs, and when the crowd became so large we pulled in some plastic chairs. There was Lax's sister Pad, BIL Satish, brother Venky, SIL Anu, SIL's mother, niece Geethi. Plus the five of us, and some others as well. Maataaji got out of bed and joined us.

We drank sweet chai and ate snacks (somehow I don't have notes of what we ate!). Both Padma and Venky have big personalities, so there was lots of kidding and joking.

I was made so welcome. I closed my eyes and ignored the language around me. I could have been with family in South Carolina, in Queens, in Germany, in Charlotte. I felt like part of the family. We sat there talking until 6am.

Then the girls went home with Pad and Satish, and Lax, Yesh and I feel onto a large bed in a well cooled room for a nap before the traditional arrival morning dosa breakfast.

I feel asleep immediately, but Lax and Yesh got back up to enjoy an Hyderabad sunrise.

Last Leg to Hyderabad

I was not impressed with flyDubai.

While the flight attendants, male and female, were all young, metro, beautiful and professional, most of the TV screens didn't work -- making Rose a little irritable. The ones that did had instructions that were not very intuitive, and the programming was prohibitively costly.

The food was extra as well. Lax and I discussed the menu in detail. We both decided on a 'masala wrap', but there was only one available, so I switched my order to the scrambled egg wrap. They came to us in little boxes (a la Mickey D's hot apple turnover of old) and were scorching hot. There were no utensils available, so Lax grilled her fingerprints off breaking her wrap in half to share with Rose. I tried to share mine with Lax, but she declined. In retrospect, I'm glad she did.

Mellissa and Yesh were two rows back on the opposite side. Mellissa had originally been seated across the aisle from us, on the aisle and next to two young men early 20's. Lax didn't want her sitting there with the men, and I offered to switch, but Lax had Mellissa move to a seat next to Yesh which was conveniently empty.

(At twelve-almost-thirteen Mellissa is a typical American pre-teen, anxious to spread her wings and feel a sense of independence. Lax was raised in a traditional Indian home, where she was sheltered and insulated. Lax enjoyed a long, safe childhood. While she is very American now, she has no point of reference to Mellissa's excitement to become an adult and be in charge. The disagreements from this disconnect are just starting. I understand from my girl friends who have daughters, this will be a decade long battle royale.)

Mellissa was not happy making the shift.

A half hour after I finished my egg wrap, a fire began in my stomach. I can't describe it, but I couldn't straighten up and had to bend over when I stood. It lasted for hours.

We began our descent to Hyderabad. When we touched down I looked back to Mellissa and we both grinned.

We were in India.

"It's All Because of You!"

Writing this now my powers of recollection are pretty degraded.

I know we took some sort of transport out to our flyDubai flight. Night was falling, which was so surreal because we had had breakfast and our smoothie lunch in such quick succession.

I recall making a friendly eye-to-eye connection with a woman who was sitting on a large corner couch on the transport. She smiled and offered me a seat with her large family, which I felt rather than saw because she was covered head to toe in black. I declined, as I was trying to help corral Mellissa and Rose away from the door and into the shuttle, but I think Rose took her offer and sat.

We arrived planeside and an official was glancing at boarding passes and directing us to one of two staircases up into the plane.

It is all a blur, finding our seats, stowing our carry-ons, getting strapped in. And then, a moment I recall with such clarity.

A young adult male passenger came to our row, where Lax, Rose and I were strapped in. He pierced little Rose at the window with an angry stare, and said in English with an accent that was not Arabic, Farsi or Indian, "It's all because of you!"

"What?!" said Lax. "Excuse me?!" I said. We were between Anger Man and Rose, and obviously confused and alarmed.



The beautiful and elegant flight attendant came quickly over to soothe him. "Sir, it's OK, they are family. They need to sit together. Otherwise the little one would be alone. I have another seat for you." She led him away to another row.

It would not be the last we saw of Anger Man.

Dubai

The next 'morning' we were greeted with a hot breakfast -- a turkey sandwich with some white cheese the consistency of a melted margarine tub, and yogurt (I think that was the breakfast part). Plus the yummy cookie again.

By this time I had tied a scarf around my head, and I looked exactly like these girls:


I would like to consider I did this this as much out of cultural respect as it was to hide my second-day hair -- but in truth my magnanimity is probably only about 30% of the whole.

In short order we had landed and were standing in the Dubai airport -- where I was surprised and saddened that neither the floors nor the bathrooms were plated in gold. And the only thing in sight at that time coated with oil was, unfortunately, my face. And no ski slopes!!

Although there were some nice lounge chairs -- like beach lounge chairs -- at the gate. So travellers can stretch out and prop their feet up for long waits.

The duty free shop was very nice indeed, as had been touted over the 'net. Unfortunately -- or fortunately depending on how you think -- I never really have any inclination to make purchases at duty-free… There's never anything there that I need or want… Except maybe a little candy sumpin-sumpin… and I don't need to make that purchase. The Dubai Duty Free was no exception -- I bought a roll of Mentos.

We brushed our teeth, splashed our faces, learned it was actually mid-afternoon, had a smoothie, and waited to start our final leg just a few hours away.

Here is Rose, practicing her limbo at the smoothie shop:

Leaving the US

Our time in Dulles waiting to board is a blur to me now. I cannot remember if we were there a long while; for the life of me I cannot recall if we even bothered to sit down. I know there was a long line at the desk, and the agents were announcing the line was only for those who did not yet have seat assignments. Luckily, we already had our seats.

While in CLT Yesh had noticed that we did not have seat assignments for this leg of the journey, so he handled it at the gate there -- where he learned that the flight was overbooked by about 20 seats. His foresight also snagged us complimentary upgrades from Economy to Economy Plus -- giving luxurious inches of extra legroom. (Thanks, Yesh!)

When we reached our seats we found that we were seated two, two and one, with me across the aisle from the others. With some vigilance and luck we saw that the third seat on one row was empty after the hatch had been closed, so I quick popped over into that row. And since Lax didn't want Rose to 'eat my head' during this thirteen hour flight ('talk my ear off') there was a mommy-daughter struggle before Rose moved up to sit with Yesh and Lax came back to sit with me.

Mellissa was so excited about the long flight because, she asserted, she was gonna pull an all-nighter watching movies and TV. Rose, too, though with less conviction.

Between the time we had ridden the troop transport and the time we boarded it had started to rain. It was hitting against the tiny windows and they sky beyond was grey. "Will they delay our takeoff?", Melissa wondered. "Only if it is a storm," I said. We left with no delays.

Everyone started watching TV immediately. We watched through the nice dinner (I had veg, Mellissa had halal -- good cookie, no ice cream). I watched "American Hustle", then "Wolf of Wall Street". Halfway through Wolf, though it was only 9:30pm EDT, Mellissa was ready to go to sleep and lean against her Mommy.

I convinced her to wait until I'd finished my movie. And afterwards, after we'd switched seats, I went to sleep as well (Merci Marcel!).

Troop Transport

We rushed into the cool compartment, and looking around it gave the sense of being in an extra wide subway car -- some folks sitting, some standing next to a (stripper!) pole. Others like Mellissa held onto the leather loop that invariably suggests a subway. The guy from the gate took his place in a driver's booth and we backed away from the domestic terminal.

"What happened!? What happened!?" Lax asks Yesh. This is when we learned that after wanting to be first going UP the escalator, Rose insisted on being last going DOWN the escalator. And then was unable to take the step. (Note to self: watch Rose more carefully around escalators.)

Meanwhile outside the large windows, we're driving across the tarmac toward a large terminal building. Coming towards us on the left I see something that looks like a Star Wars Galactic Empire troop transport vehicle… And I realize that's what we're riding in!

As we're pulling into the International Terminal we see that we are being deposited only four down from our Dulles to Dubai departure gate.

... Must Come Down

Yesh hops on the escalator and calls loudly, "Rose!"

She turns around. "When you get to the top, stop and wait for me!"

"1.10"… "1.09" … "1.08"…

The guy says, "Another transport is available in 10 minutes", but our flight had left CLT thirty minutes late and we were cutting our connection short as-is.

"Please wait for us," I call to the guy. "My sister is coming down!, " Mellissa calls. "0.58"… "0.57"… "0.56"...

"Just leave her," the guy teases with a smile. "You can get another sister. One that won't be late."

Yesh reaches the top and spends what seems like hours of precious time convincing her that she needs to come back down. Tick… tick… tick…

Mellissa, Lax and I look anxiously between the two at the top of the escalator, the guy at the gate, and the clock counting down on the wall above his head. "0.30"… "0.29"…

Finally Rose nods in concession. There is further hurried conversation, then Yesh steps onto the escalator. And Rose does not. Because she can't. Because she thinks she can't. Because the step is moving and she is pulling behind her the carry on case that is almost as tall as she is and she is afraid to try… Tick… tick… tick….

And Yesh has turned around, and he is looking up and yelling for Rose to step onto the moving tread as he glides ever downward. And we are yelling at Rose to step onto the tread. And we can tell that Yesh is trying to decide if he should run back up the moving escalator to grab Rose.

"0.08"… "0.07"… "0.06"…

And we are yelling at the guy, "Please wait for her". And his smile is fading.

And finally a man in a uniform walks toward the top of the escalator, and we can tell that he is offering to help Rose. And Yesh is calling out to her, "let him help you!". And Mellissa is yelling to the transport guy, "She's coming, my sister, she's coming!"

"9.59"… "9.58"… "9.57"... The clock has reset itself for the next departure. The shuttle should have left already.

And the guy in the uniform takes Rose by the hand, and takes her bag in the other hand, and he brings her down the escalator.

"9.23"… "9.22"… "9.21"..

And as we hustle her over to the gate for the International terminal transport, the guy manning the gate says, "Remember to tip your driver."

What Goes Up...

Rose is a very confident little girl, and is extremely excited about the trip (and the three flights, and therefore three Ginger Ales). She skips ahead pulling her own carry on case, which is really helpful because we have so much luggage and stuff. And can also be scary if we lose sight of her in crowds. She has no sense of danger, and wouldn't we all want to feel this way.

We came from the tarmac into the domestic terminal at Dulles and began looking above for signs to the international terminal. High above, at the top of a very tall escalator, with the other official airport indicators (Baggage, Ground Transportation) was the word we were looking for -- International. So we headed across the large hall toward the escalators, with Rose skipping ahead.

Halfway across the expanse I noticed a large red flashing arrow above, pointing to the left…."International Terminal"… "International Terminal"… I looked to the left and saw a guy manning a door, and a large clock counting down. "2:03".. "2.02".. "2.01"..

"What are you looking for?" he called out helpfully.

"International Terminal," I shouted back.

"Come! Come! We're getting ready to leave!"

I stopped Lax and Melissa, here is the transport to the International Terminal. And we shouted for the ones ahead. "Yesh! Yesh! Transport is here. Rose! Here!"

Too late. Rose had stepped on the tread, rising with the two story escalator with her bag, looking toward the top. "1.47"… "1.46"… "1.45"…

"What are you waiting for?" the guy shouted.

"My sister. My sister got on the escalator. So my father has to get her," Mellissa called back.

We are calling "Rose! Rose!" yet she glides up, obliviously, enjoying being in front. "1.20"… "1.19"… "1.18"…

On the Tarmac

The puddle jumper we took to Dulles was one seat on one side and two on the other. It's been a long time since I've been in a plane that small, if ever. I sat on the two-side with Rose, who talked non-stop for the entire trip. Mostly we talked about how wonderful it is when we fly, because that's the only time her mommy allows her to drink Ginger Ale.

We also worked on a sudoku puzzle, until her little mind was fried. Then we talked some more about the wonders of Ginger Ale. Also about what size everyone wears. (Which is always a fun topic for an adult American female whose discipline has seen better days. )

Arriving at Dulles we were standing on the tarmac waiting to grab the carry-on (which didn't fit in the overheads because of the one to two ratio of seats) when Mellissa spotted this plane with a very cool pink paint job right next door. So we snapped some shots.

A Journey of a Thousand Miles

What a long fun trip it's been, between leaving my house in Charlotte at 11:30am EDT Wed, until I'm writing this at 11:15pm Friday Hyderabad Time.

Both my house sitter and my friend driving me to the airport showed up right on time. The guy at the United curbside was very helpful with my additional (50% overweight! Damned contraband!) bag (I don't know why my ADDITIONAL bag had to the one that was OVERWEIGHT, but that's a question for a different day.) Also our CLT through to Hyderabad reservation didn't link properly with the check-in kiosks, so between two check-in agents and myself we overrode the confusion so that I could check in and pay for my bag. Easy peasy.

As always I took the Terminal A TSA line, and it was speedy and hassle-free. I think I'm a little overly excited for the taste of the TSA folks, because I always think the spread-'em-and-reach-for-the-sky is over before it actually is over, and so they have to make a show of resetting the scanner. Perhaps my hearing is totally shot, or maybe they don't speak clearly and loudly enough to help people don't do this every day. Not sure which….

I got to my gate a full two hours before the flight, and was able to quietly enjoy my poppy seed bagel with peanut butter, last American lunch. It was here that I learned that my laptop doesn't like freebie wifi, but only snacks on WPA-2 bits and bytes (which was never offered to us -- in any of the airports or flights). Additionally, my attempts to add a new book to my Nook failed (I've assumed because my credit card had already been set to Out of the Country).

This gave me plenty of time to people-watch and to meet other folks who were also travelling to India (and having confusion with the wifi as well).

Lax and The Fam cut it a little short, not surprisingly because Mellissa had to finish up her End-of-Grades exams just as we were rushing for the flight. They also ran into the dropped linkage issue at the kiosk -- weird, as I assumed my manual override would have cured the issue for the entire group.

But no need to hurry because our CLT to Dulles leg had been delayed 30 minutes. We chatted excitedly about our trip, while Rose practiced her fashion runway strut-and-turn -- "Give it some 'tude, grrrl".

Here Comes the Sun!

Since I am traveling to India during the brutal and unforgiving Summer season, I need to prepare myself for the weather.

As hope springs eternal, I am packing my very lightweight Gore-tex raincoat, in case the Monsoon 1) comes early; 2) comes to Hyderabad at all.

As "A Peach" (as my little friend Rose would call me), otherwise known as the whitest non-Albino girl ever born in the history of the world, I need to shield my Pepto Bismol-colored skin and lightly furred scalp from the burning sun as best as I can -- lest I subject myself to intense pain and risk of melanoma, and subject my hosts to giant unsightly blisters oozing onto their high thread count linens.

I love wearing hats as a way to add that je ne sai quoi, and was excited to discover 50 UPF hats (which means that 97.5+% of UV rays are blocked), and ended up with this sweet crushable, packable number.

I've also taken up about 10% of my allowed luggage weight with 50 SPF sunscreen of all thicknesses, densities, and scents.

I think I'm ready on this front.

Oh Crap!

I thought I would be saving my WTF?! moments for after I actually arrived in India, until Lax said to me cryptically, 'Mellissa really hates the toilets in India'.

As would anyone, I asked, 'Why?'

'You'll see,' she said, with her evil smirk.

Naturally I ran back to my desk and burned up the keyboard asking my friend Google. His various responses led to my first WTF?! moment.

I love the guy who says -- if you're new to these type bathrooms, you might want to remove your pants until you get the hang of it.....

WTF?!

Sightseeing in Hybad

I decided early on that I didn't want my strongest memory of India to be the inside of a homogeneous could-be-anywhere airport. I don't want to take the American-style two-days-one-night-in-each-city whirlwind tour, where I come back to the US convinced I've seen and done everything noteworthy when in reality I've only seen carefully choreographed tourist mating dances.

I want depth of experience, immersion. I want to get to know the cities I'll be in. I want to see them as their residents see them. I want to feel like I'm at home (without handstands). I want it to be my 'hood.

Lax has promised to take me sightseeing when she takes Mellissa and Rose out and about in Hyderabad. There are a number of bazaars, one seemingly dedicated to bangle bracelets. There are temples and a fort with a beautiful light show. There is a fancy-schmancy palace hotel where rooms start at $800 per night. There is a lake in the center of town, and alongside is a walkway where residents stroll and dine in the evening.

She has also said we would go out into the countryside to her 'home village', where there is a 600 year old palace.

So that takes care of Hyderabad. On to Chennai.

Prepared Foods

Prepared foods I've been instructed to try in Hyderabad:

• Dum biryani – Hyderabad is famous for Dum biryani, sometimes called Hyderabadi Biryani. This is typically made with lamb / mutton, although there are chicken variations. When plated, this dish resembles Americani Chicken Fried Rice, without the stirring or the frying. Review of recipes shows ingredients being precooked, then layered in a dish and baked in the oven. Watch Padma whipping up some biryani. AR says “It may be spicy for you.” Maybe they have a children’s version. 
• Mirchi Bajji –There is also a Hyderabadi style of deep fried stuffed jalapenos. The difference is in Hybad they are stuffed with a paste of sesame seeds, coconut, and coriander, unliked the potato based stuffing of other regions. I somehow doubt my description will match this gourmet’s declaration of “surprisingly mild”, yet, I’ve been wrong before. I’ll keep you posted. (She does say that sometimes she dredges and fries a second time – which is a chicken trick that is very close to my Southern heart.) 
• Pani poori – Like Mirchi Bajji above, this seems to be a ‘street food’, with the stuffings being dictated by region. In reviewing the photos and recipes, I think Ashwini makes these for holiday parties at the office. It is a hollow, globe-like pastry, the size of an egg, deep-fried to crispy perfection, cooled and stored airtight. When ready for serving, you poke a hole through the top of the globe and drop in the stuffings – things like onions, potatoes, chutneys, vinegars. Eat quickly in one bite! Yum! 
• Pav Bajji– I’m thinking this is the Americano option that AR slipped in to this list, just pour moi! This looks like sloppy joe, avec hamburger buns, sans hamburger meat. It does look and sound yummy, however I’m not sure how one eats this on the street. Are there disposable dishes? Will I scoop with the bun (using my right hand only!)? Stay tuned for the answers! 
• Samosa ragada – This seems to be a chickpea stew, served with samosas (the ultimate White People Food) on the side. It almost looks like a Mexican dish. 
• Fresh jalebi – This is one of my favorite Indian sweets, tastes kinda like baklava, but apparently it doesn’t travel well. So the Jalebi I’ve gotten in Charlotte have been substandard at best. Getting it freshly made is supposed to be wonderful! 
• Paper Dosa – This was not on ARs list, I added this myself. A paper dosa is a thin, crispy pastry that is often spread out and served huge. It can be served stuffed or not. Lax and her kids, Mellissa and Rose, have a tradition they use to help them get over jet lag. From the airport they head to Lax’s mom’s apartment in the city. Typically they reach there in the early morning hours, and they stroll over to a restaurant that serves paper dosas to have breakfast. They unwind from the long flight, and then they begin the day, using the dosa to jumpstart them on Hybad-time.