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!!)

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:

• 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!)

We did not shop!

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.

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.  

Conspicuous Consumption: Hadji's Jacket

I want a jacket like Hadji's.

Yes, yes, I know that the original Jonny Quest show was probably not the most politically correct fare on TV, but I can't change the past and won't apologize for living within the confines of my times. But I digress....

Notice the straight collar, lots of buttons from throat to waist, and then the sweet flare from the waist. Wouldn't that jacket look really cool with jeans and boots?

How do I get one of those jackets??

Conspicuous Consumption: Gold

While gold isn't really on my shopping list, the high-carat Indian gold certainly is alluring.

	I call him "Mr. G"

Conspicuous Consumption Part 2

While I love a great accessory, I personally do not enjoy wearing bangles.

They get in my way while trying to use the keyboard and mouse -- making it very difficult to be productive in my work. Not a good fashion accessory for a geek. However, I do appreciate their beauty and am really excited to scour the bazaar in search of gifts for friends.

 Inspiration:

Conspicuous Consumption Part 1

I've always dreamed of having an Indian-style bedroom.

While my earliest visions may have their roots in the 1960's, when kurta-wearing hippies lounging on Ikat floor pillows were enveloped by scents of hashish and sounds of Jefferson Airplane, the times they have a-changed and my tastes are a tad more cosmopolitan now.

Though this delivery into adulthood has not succeeded in totally suppressing my dreams of an Indian-style bedroom -- it's simply refined the vision into one with just a few bright coordinating-color-contrasting-pattern splashes layered with solids I find here at home. Maybe a fun, unexpected paint color to fly off the walls. A visual cacophony.

Which is one reason I am so excited to visit a real Indian bazaar. India is renown for fabrics -- cotton in particular -- and I've been looking online for inspiration, to get my creative juices flowing. I want to ensure that when I am there in the bazaar with my rupees in hand and a friend to do the haggling, I can spot what I want and make a fast decision.

Inspiration:

Deutsch schuhe!

I once had a dog whose cool, bored exterior barely covered a frenzy of inner anxiety, resulting in incessant lick-lick-lick-lick-licking of furniture and body parts and in noisy doga (dog + yoga) Ujjayi breath. The vet always said this breathing was how she 'calmed herself'. I thought about this as I sat in front of my laptop, holding my cellphone, waiting for Lax to provide me with an Indian Reference so I could complete page 3 of this freakin' Visa application. I needed to do something to calm myself.

I decided to review our flights -- making sure my travel plans are analyzed, charted, printed, collated, stapled, and spindled is very comforting to me.

Interestingly, the routes are different going and coming, and we have relatively long layovers in Dubai and Munich -- two airports I've never been in.

OMG just typing "Dubai" gives me shivers of excitement. But Munich, oooooh, Munich… Or should I actually say, ooooooh Germany! Specifically, ooooooohh Deutsch schuhe!

I like to buy shoes when I travel. They're great souvenirs -- reminding me of my trips, and usually very different from anything I can find at home. It's highly unlikely I'll meet my unAmerican shoes in the aisles and conference rooms of my job -- which is only one of the great reasons for shoe shopping abroad. The best ever international shoe buying experience I've had to date was in Germany, where the salesman said that my (normally considered large) feet were smaller than the average German woman. Hooray! Additionally, the pretty ankle-strap heels I bought there were well-made, comfortable, stylish, excellent at camouflaging the faults of (normally considered large) feet. In a word Wonderful -- and totally unavailable on the entire shopping information superhighway.

I would be spending six hours in a German airport. Could there be fabulous German shoes nearby????

And so I was thusly calmed and eventually lulled to sleep by my fingers walking through reviews of the Munich Airport, searching for shoes nearby, and fretting that six hours layover was too short a time for a traveler making international connections to safely leave the airport.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…. Perhaps I can extend my stay in Munich……..