Deanna's Life from the Cradle of Humanity

Moment of the Day

2012-01-21T03:05:00.002-06:00

While shopping in Nature’s Basket after my German class today, I was pondering over corn chips, trying to find a vegan variety. I had already been approached by a young lady who was trying to get me to buy a brand of tea, but I had said I was not interested.

Suddenly, the man who was with her approached me with a pamphlet for the same tea. He had a new selling angle, it seems.

“Madam,” he started, “this tea we have for the slimming. For the big body sizes you can take. Within three months, madam, you will lose the body fats.” He concluded this spiel and looked at me expectantly.

Now, on several other occasions, while out and about, I – and I am sure any other fat person – have been singled out to learn the benefits of some product which will make me lose weight, guaranteed. Once, while shopping in another store, a stranger – another shopper - approached me and asked where I was from. I told her, and she asked me my name.

Wondering where this was going, I told her. Then she said, “I work for one company from your United States, we sell herbal remedies....” Before she could say more, I said, “You’re trying to sell me something to make me lose weight, isn’t it?” “Yes!” she answered, beaming happily at me. “You need it, na?”

It has become apparent that here, people who are too fat (and probably those who others deem too thin) are quickly cornered to receive the latest spiel on the latest remedy to help that person look “normal” and “be healthy”. I have had many a perfect stranger advise me on diet, exercise and medical conditions. In India, such things seem as normal as Americans might say, “How are you?”

Nature’s Basket is often frequented by foreigners, many of whom may seem large by Indian standards. I had a sudden vision of every large person being attacked by tea man. So I decided, let me explain some cultural differences. I told him, “I would like to share with you....when a person is fat, they usually do not want to be sold things which are supposed to be slim them....it can be rude to them.” He didn’t understand. He repeated the tea’s amazing slimming abilities and accompanied the spiel with gestures to indicate how thin I would surely become if I just tried the tea.

I said, “How about this masala tea here – also same company?”

“Yes madam,” he said. “By this company only. But madam, you need the slimming tea. That one you buy?”

I tried to explain to him again that pointing out that someone who is overweight needs to buy a specific thing to slim them can be rude to some people. He replied, “Yes madam, you need to lose the weight.”

By now the girl who had first tried to sell me tea came over, wanting to know what was wrong. I explained everything to her. She said, “Yes, yes – I got it.” She turned to the man and spoke to him in Kannada. He replied, “Within three months.”

It now became apparent that even in his local tongue, he could not understand how pointing out that someone was fat and needed slimming tea could be rude. The girl looked at me and shrugged.

The man happily thrust a sample packet of the slimming tea at me and with a smile said, “You will see madam, within three months, you will be not so fat.”

I succumbed, decided culture lessons could wait another day, took the tea and went to the checkout counter!

Emergencies and Life

2011-12-03T12:58:00.002-06:00

I had an interesting experience the other night that highlighted to me once again the many differences between here and the US. In the way emergencies are handled, the way life is perceived or perhaps the value of life.

I was in the cab late at night – around 1 AM – and the cab turned from the main road to the road that runs along at the top of my lane. I saw a man on his stomach slowly crawling on his hands and knees. Where he was laying was right at the corner of the main road and the other road, where the lighting is poor. He was wearing dark clothing – I only saw him because I see these things – I am always looking around and seeing things.

The cab dropped me at my house and I waited for it to leave. All I could see in my mind’s eye was a big truck or bus coming around that corner and hitting the man who had been crawling there at the corner. I couldn’t get that vision from my mind and so I went back to the corner, walking down the dark street until I was close to where I had seen him laying.

I could hear his harsh cries before I saw him. Now he was lying on his back, waving his arms in the air and calling out – maybe in a local language or maybe just shouting...I couldn’t tell. I saw a security guard walking around at the closed book store across the street. But he was watching me and not the man. I looked up and down the street, wondering how I could find someone to help me. I at least wanted to move the man from that spot on the street.

I could not tell many details about the man. I did not want to get so close that he could pull at me or harm me in some way. But I could see he was older, wearing filthy clothes and no shoes. He didn’t seem to notice me as I walked by him, searching the street for some help.

Then I saw that the traffic police had set up a barricade down the street, just where the road crests a slight hill. It was a speed trap of sorts and now and then they place the barricades to catch speeders and make some extra money for themselves when the speeders bribe them. I saw three police men sitting on one of the tree planters at the side of the road on the foot path.

I walked towards them. Immediately one of the called out to me, “What do you want?” I said, “There is a man up there on the street.”

The police wobbled his head in the characteristic way they do here – signalling he understood. And he grunted.

I said, “Where he lies, he will be struck by traffic and be killed.”

Again the police wobbled and grunted.

We looked at each other for a few seconds. Again he repeated, “What do you want?”

I said, trying to hide my incredulousness, “I want you to help that man.”

He said, “I have called ambulance.”

I thanked him and walked away. I knew he had not called an ambulance. Again visions of flattened old man danced. I walked by him again and stood on the other street. I SMSed to a colleague, asking for the number for ambulance services.

She sent one tentatively. I called it. It was for fire. When I asked for the ambulance, the person who answered said, “No, only fire.” And hung up!

The next number my colleague sent was the correct one and a man answered saying “ambulance services?”

I described my issue – the man, the dark, the possibility of being killed by traffic. That man asked over a dozen questions. Who was he? I didn’t know. Was he hurt? I didn’t know. Was he drunk? I didn’t know – could be. Was he bleeding? I didn’t know – I had not gotten so close. Was he my relative? Was he sick? On and on. I said, “By the time you find these answers, he will be dead if he is hurt!” He said, “Ok ok!” He took my number and said the ambulance in my area would contact me in a few minutes. I waited.

I saw traffic go by the man, some close enough to hit him. The book store security guard wandered around. A couple walked down the street, passed right by the man and walked into the neighbourhood opposite the street I was on. My colleague was smsing me to go home rather than wait. I even saw an ambulance driver by – literally drive by the man. At first when I saw it I thought maybe that police really had called an ambulance. But it drove by and never came back.

Finally the ambulance services called me again. Now there were two men on the line – the first one and the ambulance driver. They both called me “sir” and asked the same questions again. Then they said, “You will come to the hospital with the man?”

I said, “No – I do not know this man.” Until that point I didn’t feel any need to explain that I was not a man. Now I began to try convincing them. They finally seemed convinced. The first man began to tell me to “cut the phone” meaning “hang up.” I said, “Are you sending an ambulance?” “Cut the phone!” was all I heard.

I walked home in frustrated tears. I didn’t think they would send anyone. The police were useless, the security guard pointless to ask help from. I was alone at 1 AM. I had done all I could do without risking my own personal safety and it was clear that if I had tried to help the man myself and he had hurt me, no one would help me either.

I was home for about 10 minutes when the ambulance driver called again. He wanted the directions again. I gave them. In another 10 minutes he called to say he was at the bookstore and could see the man across the street.

A 5 minute conversation ensued wherein I convinced him to cross the street and check the man for injuries. He did so and informed that he was drunk. I said, “That may be so but he should be moved from the street.”

“Yes he is on the street,” he said.

“I know that,” I said....”Please get him off the street. Put him on the footpath!”

After much discussion, I finally convinced the driver to move the man to the footpath. I could hear the driver and someone else lifting the man who was shouting at them in Kannada. The driver told me the man had been moved. He hung up and I was left pondering things.

First, I had been shocked the ambulance had come at all. Most people do not help accident victims or people found injured, being attacked, beaten etc. There is a thought (and an unfortunately accurate one) that if they stoop to help they will also get hurt or be blamed for the accident that caused injury. Until recently, India even had a law that prohibited the transfer and treatment of accident victims before police had filled an accident form. People literally died on the street waiting for the police to come to fill in a form so that the victims could be sent to the hospital for treatment. Then India withdrew or amended the law. Accident victims can be taken to a hospital for treatment even if a police report is filled afterwards rather than on the spot. But such changes to a law take a long, long time to trickle into everyone’s minds. And it still doesn’t protect people from being hurt when they try to help someone or from being blamed for accidents they didn’t cause. So this could be why the driver wanted me to come with them – he could have wanted me to give them money for the drive, the treatment – who knows what.

Second, I was saddened (though not surprised) by the indifference of the policemen. They had to have seen that man laying there and had probably not even checked his condition. Most likely they had decided that the man was a drunkard, homeless or a beggar. And they had decided not to help him – either because he was a drunk and homeless or just because they didn’t want to help anyone. Police should protect and serve. But here, they serve themselves and protect their pocket books.

Third, there was just the general different way in which life is treated here. I have seen this time and again – in the way people drive, the way they allow their children to play in dangerous areas, the way workers wear clothing while doing hard labor that would never protect their bodies if there was an accident. People are often injured in accidents that could have been prevented if people were more careful of their own safety, others’ safety and if they were properly equipped to protect themselves. People rarely wear seat belts. Motorcycle drivers wear helmets but the riders almost never do and many times you see a man driving a motorcycle with a woman on the back and 2-3 kids sandwiched here and there – and only the driver wears a helmet at all. As a westerner, my first thought is that life is not respected. But that is a gut response – a reaction. I know that Indians respect life even if they do not do it in the way I would. But many times, especially when faced with situations where a man is laying close to death on a street corner, I cannot help but think that life should be treated better than that!

The muted colors of midnight

2011-09-22T14:13:00.000-05:00

The muted colors of midnight

rose and maroon

yellow and cream

the dusty green

of trees

with the smell of jasmine

and dried leaves

and over all

a single star

in a violet sky

and the distant cry

of a departing train

Midnight on the lane

Update: New Job, New Cat, New Worries

2011-09-04T07:06:00.002-05:00

After a long time, I am updating this blog. I am really not sure who reads it still and that is partially my fault because I rarely update it. But life is pretty routine and nothing exciting takes place so I figure why bore people with accounts of day-to-day life?

I am about to close my 3rd year in India and at this job. I was promoted in March – can’t remember if I wrote about that. I was promoted to the role of quality lead, a new role on the team. It is not new to the industry – most companies in the same field have quality leads and checks. But because this was a new role for the team, there were a lot of things which I needed to build from scratch including procedures, processes, tools and training the team. The role is basically streamlined now with only a few hiccups – time to see how I might take it up a few notches!

I am not sure when I will come back to the US for my annual visit. I even played with the idea of not coming. For some reason this year, it feels wrong to go – a little wrong. It could be that I felt that way because the cats have been falling sick lately and two weeks in the US away from them seemed a bad idea. But now they are fine (knock on wood) so that is not it. And I do feel a little better about going back. Sometimes, it feels like the more years that pass, the stranger I feel in US. My family’s lives also carry on and they cannot drop everything because I have come home. So it can be lonely – lonelier than when by myself in India because in India I have my cats, work and my own life going on. But going I will and must – I need to do the clothes run (can’t find clothes here that fit and the tailors are usually not very good at making western wear). I also want to narrow down my things in US – I keep thinking of all the boxes and things there which could be reduced to very little because I am obviously not using them!

I also want to make a will – mostly for my cats. I want people to know what needs to be done for them if I should die or if I suddenly cannot take care of them. In a way I feel nervous – when we tried to make a will for mom and dad, both died before they could sign the final documents. Seems like a family curse?

I am on the last day of five days off – a vacation that came from having two festivals (Ramadan and Ganesha Chaturthi), taking off on another day between those and the weekend and then the weekend itself. I have been productive. I got Bobby neutered.

Oh – I should tell you about Bobby. He is the third cat to join my household. He came from Mumbai. There is a mother/daughter team there that rescues street cats, cleans them up and re-homes them. Bobby came to them as a small kitten with a maggot infested wound and some mouth injuries. They healed him and started looking for a home for him but because his jaw is crooked, they worried that they wouldn’t find him a home. So I decided to adopt him. They flew him via Jet Airways cargo and I went to the airport to get him. He is a little ginger and white boy, very naughty and playful. At first Squeeby and Lucy were not happy but after some time, Lucy started to play with him. Sometimes Squeeby does too though more often than not, Squeeby tries to lick Bobby when Bobby would rather bite.

So I got Bobby neutered during my vacation and had to have one of his teeth removed. Lucy also got a check up because on the very first day of my vacation, she started coughing – randomly and badly. A dry, raspy, harsh cough that doesn’t do anything and seems very distressing to her and me. But the vet couldn’t find anything wrong with her and said I should deworm her again in case the new cat brought worms into the house. I have done that and for nearly 2 days she didn’t cough. Just now she coughed  She is hiding under the bed actually. I am trying not to worry – it could still be worms. She will be re-dosed in two weeks. But a part of me is really worried it’s the start of a bigger more terrible problem. I am trying not to worry – I will say that again – but it can be so hard when I am attached to them like I am. If something happened to these cats, I would be very sad. And angry if the vets here couldn’t help her – they are mostly incompetent with cats!

So that is all the news I guess:

1) I was promoted

2) I got a new cat

3) Lucy is coughing and I don’t know why

4) I will complete year three soon

5) I will be coming to the US soon

Don't just stand there - do something...

2011-05-08T04:43:00.002-05:00

Today I saw two grown men in a cart loaded with metal bars whipping their small horse into a frenzy for no reason other than to make it go faster on the open road they were on. Both were laughing hysterically. They whipped past the home for children whose parents either can’t afford them, don't want them or orphaned them.

Not one of the people helping the children even noticed these idiot men beating their horse for no reason. They didn't see that the horse was clipping one of its poorly shod feet on the ground with every stride, on the verge of breaking that leg if it missed a stride or tripped on a hole or crack of which Indian streets are primarily made of. No one even gave the tableau a look. They were too busy caring for children whose parents were incompetent and who will doubtlessly grow up as cruel as those men and as clueless as their caretakers because their caretakers are too blind to see inhumanity enough to teach these children.

This is why I stopped supporting cause for humans a long time ago. Humans are blind even with 20/20 vision. They only see the suffering of their own kind if they even see that. And they seem to completely miss the link between cruelty to animals and cruelty to people. That if people are capable of beating a horse for no particular reason, they are also capable of beating a child, a woman, an elderly person.

Kindness is kindness, respect is respect. These attributes don’t know species or at least they shouldn’t be reserved just for humans.

And here is a note to all you parents out there and you people who stand neutrally by not even trying to prevent the injustices you see in this world even when given clear chances: Just because you don’t commit the injustices doesn’t make your sheet clean. Teach your children that what others are doing is wrong. Teach them what is right. Stop others from committing injustices whenever you can because these people are either teaching your children or someone else's children that injustice is okay even if you say it’s not.

Support a good animal welfare organization

2011-04-17T05:47:00.000-05:00

Hi faithful readers :-)

If you want to help animals in need and you have a Facebook account, please click the link below and click "LIKE" on that page. It's a safe page - no viruses, no one hassling you with posts or asking for your details. Just a non-profit org looking to earn money for animals. Click the link and click LIKE.

Cat Bless You

And now I'll tell you why:

As I mentioned in one of my recent posts, I have become more aware of some of the bad things people are doing to animals out there in our big world. I found this one organization called the Egyptian Society for Mercy to Animals (ESMA) and I decided to really do my best to help this org.

ESMA is based in Egypt and have been a registered non-profit group since 2007 when a group of Egyptians and expatriates joined forces to try and stop a government sanctioned mass shooting of stray dogs. Since then, this small but growing group has built an animal shelter and houses over 600 dogs and cats who need good homes. They have rescued animals the government had poisoned or shot or cut. They rescue animals hit by vehicles. They are even now trying to feed the working animals whose livelihood was bad to before the Egyptian riots and who are now literally walking sticks, starved and wounded. ESMA also works to maintain better pet shops and to improve the Giza Zoo, Egypt's biggest zoo.

In addition to helping the animals. ESMA has undertaken educating the Egyptian people on the humane treatment of animals. They help the horse and donkey owners learn ways to clean their animals. They have veterinaries who care for the animals and provide street level care. I really want to see this group succeed.

See, if you're in America or Canada or the UK, you might feel that the treatment of domesticated animals is "ok" - a few shocking cases but by and large, if anything bad is happening on a large scale, we don't know it or we don't care to investigate to know it. But in many many other parts of the world, domesticated animals are treated worse than the lowest slave or POW in any land. They are shot, poisoned or clubbed to death to control their population. Left still alive, they are picked up hours later, having spent agonizing moments dying while people pass them by. In some countries, cats and skinned alive and then eaten.Working animals are beaten and made to work until literally they die in their gear.

Call it lack of compassion, lack of education, lack of humanity, lack of funding - animals are being treated in ways that would boggle the mind of the average American or Brit. But ESMA is in the middle of this trying to improve it, trying to make people see a better way to treat animals and I want to support that. Getting money to them is very hard - if you have a PayPal account then it is easy - but I cannot get my PayPal account to work. Which leads us to why I have asked you to click the "Cat Bless You" page.

Cat Bless You is an organization that also wants to help animal welfare organizations by showcasing their efforts and raising awareness. Cat Bless You has agreed to give ESMA 25000 USD in funds if ESMA can increase Cat Bless You's Facebook fan base to 25000 fans.

So your click could bring 25000 USD to help cats, dogs, horses, donkeys, camels and the Giza Zoo.

Not bad for just one click, yes?

Japan Earthquake Animal Rescue

2011-04-14T05:12:00.000-05:00

I have seen comments from western media in particular questioning and ridiculing the animal rescues in Japan, asking "Why are they so concerned with animals' welfare when so many people are homeless, hungry and thirsty?" I answer, "They are concerned for their animals' welfare for the same reason that they turn over to the police large sums of money found in the wreckage of buildings instead of stealing: this is how humans should be."

Some new stands

2011-04-03T18:48:00.005-05:00

I have made some choices in the last few days. I was helped by seeing a video of a fur farm in China or Korea where they were skinning the animals alive and laughing at their screams. That video nearly unstrung me - somehow I managed to diminish the horrible images enough to think rationally.

I have decided to do two things:

1) Whenever possible, buy products which have not been tested on animals. That will include personal hygiene products. I will try to find cleaning supplies also but this will probably be hard.

2) I will no longer buy any product or service from the countries which blatantly and openly violate one or more of the three Living Rights.See, there is no country on Earth which is not without violations against humans, animals (domesticated and wild) and against the environment. But it is safe to say that in one degree or another, many of the countries are trying to improve, recognizing the need for environmental improvements, new laws to protect animals' welfare and treatment and new laws or more enforced existing laws to safeguard humans' rights. But then there are a few countries who do not. They do not seem to care at all if they violate what I coin as "The Living Rights": human rights, animal rights and Earth's rights (which in turn link back to the rights of humans and animals: i.e. if Earth is ruined, humans and animals will also suffer more). Despite pressure from most of the rest of the world, such countries continue to violate The Living Rights and even imprison and/or murder their own people when they try to change the violations. So I will no longer support such countries by buying their products or services.

Another thing I realized recently: People don't like to know about the terrible things people are doing to the earth, to animals, to children, to women. They want to live with the trash that they need to take out, the bills they have to pay and the teenagers they are trying to raise. It's human nature I guess and most people are not long range, big picture viewers. But I am. I found a wonderful quote by Martin Luther King Jr: "Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter." I will not be dissuaded to speak on what I believe in, to tell the reality of things, to explain what I know and what I want others to know.

I won't shove it down any one's throat and I won't tell people that they should do this or that. But that doesn't stop me from making them aware of things and letting them decide what they want to do with the knowledge they have.

In my need to find some goodness in humanity this weekend, I explored this organization that I have heard a little about and I loved what I saw: The Elephant Sanctuary. Located in Tennessee, its a 2700 acre wooded sanctuary for retired zoo and circus elephants. The founders run a force free place where the elephants can roam at will, play in the rivers, graze on the natural plant life supplemented with foods the caregivers provide and come and go from the barns as the please. They finally get to live like elephants should - no chains, no ropes, no bullhooks, no shock sticks, no costumes, no more solitude and no more beatings. They live in groups they choose, don't have to work, don't have to perform. They only have to be elephants, as God made them.

I sponsored one of the elephants named Shirley, the oldest current resident of the sanctuary. She has a crippled rear leg when she was attacked by another elephant in the circus and made to perform on it when it wasn't healed properly. She was born in 1948 - can you believe it? She is a wonderful looking old lady. I sponsored her in memory of my mother whose name was also Shirley - she would have approved heartily.

As much as I can, I will try to get others to help the sanctuary. They have so many ways to help - small donations, a wish list with all sorts of things you can buy for the sanctuary from small things to big things. You can feed an elephant for a day, a week, a month - even a year.

There are also wonderful videos of the elephants on the Elephant Sanctuary's channel. I have decided that when I am losing my mind with the horrors I know are happening all around me, I will visit this website and watch the videos and feel better that here at least is a wonderful place well worth supporting.

Latest update 28 March 2011

2011-03-27T16:22:00.000-05:00

I suppose the biggest news to share is my recent promotion within my team.

About a month ago, a new role was made – a Quality Lead role – to oversee the quality of the team’s quality monitoring. Of course to a degree such quality checking of the quality checking was being done by the other leads. But to condense the duties and add some other aspects to the quality checking, this role was created. I interviewed for it along with a few other internal and external candidates and was offered the job.

One of the reasons I interviewed for the position and took the job when they offered it is because I have found the best way to do my current job and there is less challenge now in it. I have found that part of my personality, for better or for worse, thrives on challenge. Not risk as such or danger but a good puzzle is highly appreciated to keep me engaged and interested in something. In other words, if something has become too easy, if the challenges have been met and conquered, I start to feel a little bored. Which is not to say that all challenge was missing or that I was bored with the people I was working with. On the contrary, I will miss meeting my engineers for our coaching sessions, miss the great chats and sharing of experiences. In the two years I have been a language specialist, I have been honoured to gain the friendship of many great engineers. These friendships will surely pass the test of time even if I am not their language specialist anymore.

The new role as Quality Lead (QL) definitely proves to be a challenge. Many new processes and tool changes need to be accomplished. Learning new things like project management and data analytics will be interesting. I get to work with my colleagues in a new way. I will report directly to the program manager which will bring new accountability and communication skills I have only just begun to fully understand. And above all, I feel I am even more immersed in the world of corporation than ever before. Mind you, I took the role not to climb the ladder (that might still happen – I cannot say for sure) but more to climb the tree that is life: I have to keep learning and learning or I stagnant.

I will keep you updated on the progress of my new role.

In other areas of my life, things are going on as usual. I had to stop the gymming because my knees were badly bothered. I wish more than anything that I knew how to swim and had access to a clean, free pool. That is supposed to be the best non-weight bearing exercise when you have knee and other joint issues. In any case, I should at least walk every day. Part of me is always so convinced that I will take a walk after work is over – take a walk on campus where the walk ways are relatively safe and there are guards at that late hour, ensuring my personal safety. But when it comes time to don my walking shoes and go out, I balk and want to go home instead. I just need to get strict with myself and go.

The cats are doing great – Lucy is almost a year old now and that is hard to believe! She and Squeeby get along really well...like all cats they have a spat or two from time to time. But by and large, they are the best of friends – sleeping together, eating together and definitely playing together. They continue to be my best buddies, the first things I look for when I wake up and the last things I see when I sleep.

I had an interesting experience when eating out at Spoonful of Sugar, the diner near my house. I like to go there on the weekend, taking my Kindle ebook or a puzzle book with me. I sit at one of their outdoor tables, read or do my puzzles and have a nice meal with a couple of cappuccinos. I usually spend one hour or so just relaxing, enjoying the relatively quiet area, watching birds and butterflies visit the trees nearby and having a good sit. This Saturday, I had ordered and settled down with my puzzle book when a young man in a large group who had just arrived at the restaurant approached my table. He asked me if I would move inside to the table there because he and his friends needed a bigger table. Mind you, the table inside was big enough for all of his friends and him but that table has just two chairs. But even the table they wanted me to leave could have only sat half their party. Anyway, as I come to the restaurant to eat outside and the inside is noisy (often they play music) and cold (AC is too high), I said I wouldn’t want to move inside and explained why. He just stared at me with a few of his party staring also. In fact, everyone was now staring. I suddenly felt embarrassed and pressured – I said I would just cancel my meal and go home. The guy said “ok, thanks” as if that was indeed the best option! I did it too – cancelled my meal and went home. Strange experience really. Of course, as a single person, particularly a single woman, I have found dining out in India a strained experience. It’s hard to even find a table meant for fewer than 4 people. Even the two seaters take a lot of room compared to the smaller tables I used to see in US. People rarely eat alone here – at least I have rarely seen it. So a single diner becomes susceptible to all manner of privacy invading things from people sitting at the table with you to even asking you to move, it seems. But, India is a collective society with much different opinions on private vs. public space...I am basically used to it by now. Just didn’t like getting my happy weekend ritual interrupted by it.

That’s the news really. The weather is warming up during the day and staying warm at night. The days lately have been cloudy – I expect a rain shower any day now. The power cuts have started and I am seriously planning to get an inverter this time. My good friends are marrying in June in Singapore so I have a little holiday to look forward to – staying in a chalet in the beach for 2 days  See you next time I have anything to write about!

24 Jan 2011 Event of the week - Give a jug of water and...

2011-01-24T17:15:00.003-06:00

Today I was waiting outside for the office cab to pick me up. It was running late and I was already standing in the lane, the house gate chained and locked behind me. I saw a girl of about 12-13 years of age walking down the lane. I didn't think anything of this because at that time of day, nearly all the people walking on the lane are women - usually house servants Maids, cooks, nannies etc. The glitter of her blue and orange salwar kameez caught my eye and I saw she was carrying a jug such as people carry here to the communal water pumps. I went back to looking towards the main road in the hopes of seeing my cab.

Suddenly I felt someone tug at my sleeve. Turning, I found the girl with the water jug at my side in front of the gate. She indicated the jug and said "nari", the Kannada word for water. I looked at her blankly, trying to figure out why a young girl was asking me for water. Mistaking my blank look for incomprehension of another sort, she said "pani", the Hindi word for water. I didn't want to start any habit - my first thought was "Give her water today and she will come every day and then climb the gate if you're not there." I tried to get her to go to the construction site at the end of the lane where they have water all the time. It was her turn to stare at me blankly.

Then humanity took over and I asked myself why I was denying a fellow human being some water. I unlocked the gate, made her stay on the lane and filled her water at the outside tap. But even as I was walking towards her with the water jug, she starting asking me for food. "Biscuit, biscuit" she said over and over, pantomiming eating with her hands and patting her stomach just in case the concept was not clear.

"I don't have biscuit," I told her honestly. "Biscuit alla." No biscuit in Kannada or there abouts. She continued her "biscuit biscuit" litany. I tried her concept of language confusion and said, "Biscuit nahin", Hindi for no biscuit. I turned away from her and walked down the lane a ways. A classic non-verbal display of "go away and don't make me be more impolite if you don't go away." She didn't know that language.

She sat her jug down, crossed her arms and mimicked my walk. When I stopped walking, she stopped and began tugging at my clothes. She produced a 2 rupee coin from somewhere. She explained in Kannada that she wanted enough to buy biscuits (I think). She wasn't taking no for an answer and didn't care that she was getting dust and grime on my office clothes every time she pulled at me. "Biscuit biscuit" seemed to be her favorite chorus.

Finally, against my better judgement which has stopped me from giving money to beggars, I asked her, "Nannu give hana, neenu hogu?" My rough Kannada rendition of "I give money, you go?" Accompanied by copious gestures, especially ones indicating her hogu-ing. After several tries, she smiled brightly and said "yes yes madam".

I never give money to beggars. As rude as it sounds, most are not nearly as destitute as they make themselves to be. Just the day before I had been physically assaulted by an old man who had literally run across the street, dodging cars, motorcycles and rickshaws to demand money from me because he had a false leg and foot. But having watched his marathon dash to beg from me, I felt he could have put his agility and speed to an honest job and laid off pinching me for a few coins. But with this girl, the neighbors were now looking and I knew the cab would come soon. I really wanted her to hogu.
So I produced enough money for her to buy a small packet of biscuits and said "hogu hogu".

As soon as the money touched her sweaty hand, she began an animated discussion of how her amma (mother) had head and knee pain and needed oushadi (medicine). I stared at her with pure helplessness, blank stares having so far only gotten me poorer by a jug of water, some rupees and a lot of patience.

I told her "Ba" (come) and took her to one of the staring neighbors. I asked the neighbor, a housewife who smiled at me tentatively, "Do you speak Kannada?" She did. I said, "Please explain to this girl that she needs to leave." The housewife looked at the girl and then asked me, "When do you want her back?"

"Want her back?!?" I exclaimed. "I never wanted her to begin with!" The housewife thought the girl was a maid who had come to clean for me! "She came asking for water and now she won't leave," I explained. "I am telling her 'hogu! hogu!'"

"That's the right word," the housewife told me helpfully. By now another housewife from the house next to mine was also watching. She said that the girl had also asked her for biscuits and money and that she thought the girl was working for someone in the neighborhood. We all looked at the object of our conversation and she had the grace to look faintly embarrassed.

The cab thankfully pulled up and I smiled gratefully to the housewives and rode to office. What a classic demonstration, I thought, of the old adage: "Give a mouse a cookie and he will ask for a glass of milk!"

The fitness starts again

2010-12-07T04:26:00.000-06:00

This weekend I was ruminating in the fact that in the six years since my mother died of obesity related illnesses, I have not made the leaps and bounds I promised myself I would to prevent me from earning an early demise as well. My mother was 55 when she died but had diabetes, kidney failure, heart failure, high blood pressure and a host of other troubles.

I did lose a lot of weight in the 2 years after her death. But then it seemed I became complacent. You know what they say...out of sight, out of mind. The memories of my mother's smiling face, jokes and other things crowded out the grim face of her death and I sort of laid back. I improved my eating a lot although weekend binges still remain a problem unless I tie my self control all around myself. But exercise has been a problem since coming to India.

In the US I would always walk at the riverfront park for one hour every single night, even weekends. I loved it there. There was nature and wind, flat safe surfaces, friendly people, places to get water and use the bathroom. I would walk fast and read at the same time. Until it got to dark and then I would just enjoy the view of the lights on the river as I walked. But in India, working at night means no safe place to walk except on the campus after work. And although it is mostly well lit and guarded by sentinels posted here and there, it is not peaceful or clean or without hazards including speeding cars and cabs, uneven footpaths and pollution. The walking parks are closed by the time I get up for the day. And the pollution level is so high in the streets here from the traffic and burning garbage, that walking outside seems like pounding a few nails into my coffin even as I try to stay out of the coffin by losing weight.

The office has a good gym. But it's very poorly lit, hot and noisy - the gym instructors always play loud annoying music. I like to read on the tread mill but the lighting over the treadmills is tiny and yellow. And although the cubicles in the office are often freezing, the gym is stuffy, humid and hot. I also don't like the instructors. Nearly every single one seems to be fascinated by the sight of a fat American and flock to me like moths to a flame. Some have even asked me bluntly how I came to be "so fat." They are full of advice and ride remarks which I doubt they even realize is rude. I personally feel that the instructors should stay on the sidelines unless a gym user asks for help rather than practically crawl into their gym clothes with them.

I have even tried walking on my porch at night when I come home. But it is not ideal because the porch is small and again poorly lit.

The bottom line however is, I can search until the cows go home for the best place to exercise with the same lovely conditions which I was blessed with in the US. But that won't be found here or at least not conveniently close to my home. I can stack excuses for not exercising all around me until I am buried in them and that is exactly what will happen to me if I don't just bite the bullet and exercise: I will be buried and buried early, just like my mom.

Now a part of me - tiny but still there - sometimes says, what's so bad about dying early? This world is so full of nasty bad things and careless cruel people. I do not have a husband or kids for whom living would seem appropriate. My brothers and sister and nieces and nephews would get on in life quite nicely without me and so would all of my friends. God knows there have been times when a desperate feeling of despair when I see things in the news has overwhelmed me and sent me deep into a black mood.

But the silly human spirit fights regardless and wins every time. And I know I don't really want to die early. So I made a decision this weekend. One of the other troubles with me and exercise is I set goals for myself but with only myself counting on that goal, I can easily cheat my own mind and excuse my way out of any goal. But if someone else sets a goal and holds me accountable for it, I will work hard to meet the goal. So I went to work and recruited friends to my new plan. I told them I will go to the gym every night after work from 2-3 AM without fail barring extreme injury or sickness and days off. They must ask me daily/weekly if I am going as promised. The punishment for me will be having to explain why I didn't after I told them I would. So far I have recruited two colleagues to the job. One even said she would join me in the gym. One has strengths of discipline and consistency which I know will make her perfect for the job of relentless making me stick to my promise.

I have already started the fitness regime. I went to the gym last night, endured the stares of the instructor who also tried hovering around to glimpse my weight when I weighed myself. He also came and critiqued my shoes and didn't seem convinced that in the US, my shoes were considered walking and hiking shoes. He seemed to feel that, because he had never seen these shoes, they couldn't be proper for walking on a treadmill. I was saved when another gym-er came in and he had to go help that guy who actually wanted help. One task my team of belly busters will have to perform is keeping that guy away from me. Few things turn me from gymming faster than a nosy, rude, staring instructor.

Please readers - pray for me that I stick to my resolve this time, that my team of encouragers stays with me and that I can actually honor my mother even better by not dying like she did at the young age of 55 or worse.

Hate the Honk

2010-11-20T07:38:00.000-06:00

I am having one of those days where I want to rip out every vehicle horn and make the drivers eat them. I am sure everyone here has one of those days, even the people born here whose first memories, even if subconsciously, is of the incessant honking of horns.

People are hardwired to honk here. There could be no one around for miles but they would still honk their horns. Horns are honked so much here that the honk has lost its use. In the US where horns are used judiciously, a honk still gets attention. You hear a honk when driving and you know there is something to respond to. Here, with dozens of honks coming from all directions at all times, you have more chances of seeing a baby flea on a passing elephant's butt than seeing what to respond to while in traffic.

Still, despite this cacophony and the driving style which seems best to personify "devil may care" and the monstrous buses and lorries charging hither and yon among the pedestrians who walk across the busy street as serenely as Jesus must have walked on water, there is a surprising lack of serious accidents on these city streets.

But I don't think that has anything to do with the horns honking...

US Trip Capped

2010-10-04T18:59:00.001-05:00

Basically my trip to the US this time was very stressful because I never seemed to get enough sleep and drove more than I have driven in a long time. Looking back, I know now that I should have flown to the west coast. But the best part was that my mom’s ashes were where she wanted them. I am proud that I was able to see that through – that I had the money for the trip, the determination to do it and the courage.

I am happy for the time I spent with friends and family, thrilled that I was for once able to get all my shopping done without worrying about money and didn’t have any hitches with not finding a needed item.

I find that the longer I stay in India, the stranger I feel in the US. I am more aware than ever before of cultural differences such as things women wear, the way people shout personal things at each other and even the way they walk in a crowd. Some people told me I have adopted a slight foreign accent. I don’t know if that’s true but do know I have taken up some Indian English phrases so maybe that’s what they mean. It seemed weird to see so much meat on the menus and in stores and to see football on the TVs. Strange to overhear conversations when I was out eating and understanding them. And weird to turn on the radio and find all English on nearly every channel! Finding vegetarian food is not easy and many do not understand what you mean when you tell them you are a vegetarian.

I am very happy living in India in the life I have made for myself here. I enjoyed the trip back to US even with the stress. But I was happy to be back home.

Indian Touchdown

2010-10-04T18:58:00.002-05:00

The flight to Mumbai was also uneventful. I slept, watched movies, read my book. I was poked by the guy next to me as he slept and I poked him when I needed to fasten my seatbelt. We arrived in Mumbai all more than ready to carry on but there was no ground crew for us so we waited for almost an hour to debark. I nearly finished my 4th book of the entire there and back journey while I waited.

Once inside the airport, I knew I had another 4 hour wait before the flight to Bangalore. So I refreshed in the bathroom and then found a place that sold masala dosa. I had enjoyed US food but was happy to have a tasty South Indian speciality. I dug into it with such enthusiasm that the guy sharing my table knew I was not a new comer to India. I finished reading the 4th book and wrote more on my blogs. Then they called for us to board the plane to Bangalore.

Shortly after they served the flight snack, I fell asleep. I woke as we descended into Bangalore. It was a small crowd of us that fit into two busses for the ride to the airport. I cleared immigration without incident, searched one more time for the wine a friend had requested from the duty free shops, and collected my luggage. For some reason, one of my bags had been marked and they wanted it scanned one more time before I could leave the airport. I have no idea what triggered the suspicion.

Outside I was accosted by taxiwallas. I couldn’t find a metered Meru or city cab but there was one fellow, his hair bronzed from henna application, who flashed a Meru card and swore his cabbie was metered. It wasn’t but that was ok: the driver became hopelessly lost at least 3 times on the way to my house and I wasn’t any help because he wasn’t in any area I knew. We finally arrived and I trundled my bags up the stairs one by one.

Once inside, my cats greeted me with much twirling around my legs and then sat by the tuna plate crying for their true love. Hehehe – I served it up and immediately swept the house and mopped, threw my stinky clothes which I had worn for a day into the wash and took a bath. It felt good to have an Indian style bucket bath again. Finally I collapsed into bed with the sun fully shining outside and the hawkers wailing their wares as they went down the lane and the housewives and maids sweeping the compounds. My cats forwent their usual playtime to cuddle around me and we slept off.

US Trip: Day 11

2010-10-04T18:57:00.001-05:00

I was up bright and early Saturday. The bus to Chicago left at an unfortunate 6 AM. There was a later bus too but it was too close to the time my plane was to leave and I didn’t want to take chances. Allan took me to the bus stand and Kevin surprised me by showing up also. I gave hugs all around and boarded the bus. I was so tired that I slept nearly the entire time to Chicago.

At the international terminal I unloaded and paid an outrageous 4 USD for a cart for my bags. I had a long wait before even the check-in for my flight. I started writing my blog entries while munching fries from McDonalds and cappuccino from another shop. Then I had a veggie pizza and joined the throng of travellers. When I made it through security, I found that US is still searching shoes – most countries rely on the body scan to figure out if the shoes are safe. I made it out the other end and gathered my bag and put it back together (I had to remove my laptop). I found the gate and was surprised – there were a couple of airport authority people here too who again wanted to see my laptop, this time they wanted it to be turned on – that was it. They also took down my name and passport number. They were only doing it for the passengers of this Air India flight. You can imagine how this made me feel!

Before long we were funnelled into the airplane. My seat was an aisle seat as I had requested. My seat mates were a couple of young Hyderabadi guys who were helpful when needed but stuck to themselves. The one who sat beside me was mostly elbows when he slept and the armrest between us might as well have been his. But he understood when I had to unfortunately poke him in the dark trying to fasten my seatbelt or retrieve my controller. For a while I tried to sleep after takeoff but became horribly hot. I managed to reopen my overhead air vent and that helped a lot.

The journey to Frankfurt was uneventful. I watched a couple movies and read my book. Food was good. We all unloaded at Frankfurt and there I became lost! When I first walked in, I saw a huge board which showed all the flights coming and going. I saw that the flight I was on was reloading at Terminal B gate 1. Seemed easy. I broke from the crowd to use the bathroom as soon as I saw signs for a bathroom. My experiences in Frankfurt in the past have been waiting 2 hours in a crowded room without a bathroom or water.

The bathrooms were down two storeys and reached by the biggest elevator I had ever been in. I spent a few minutes trying to wash up and feel human after over 8 hours on a hot plane. I got back on the elevator and confidently made it through immigration where I thought I would find terminal B gate 1. I joined a queue for security check when I saw another big flight sign. This one didn’t even list my flight! I was suddenly filled with doom. I asked a couple of airport workers where my flight might be. They informed me that Indian flights always leave from Gate B46. Obviously I was supposed to know that but I wasn’t sure how. So I had to go through the security check ahead, back through immigration and this time to the proper gate. Lord only knew where that gate was.

I impatiently waited for security where I wasn’t even body scanned. When I rejoined immigration, the officers there laughed at my confusion over gates and again stated that Indian flights always leave from B46. Amazing I thought! Another odd thing about Frankfurt Airport was that all the workers wore blue suits with tiny tags. You had to practically marry one to even know if they worked for the airport or were just travelling business men afraid of getting lost. I found one such worker who guided me with record speed to the gate I needed. Fortunately I had not missed the flight and actually waited another 45 minutes before we reloaded. While waiting I met a middle aged couple travelling to Hyderabad. The husband generously bought me coffee and we all chatted to fill in the time. They gave me their number and address to look up if I was ever in Hyderabad again. Such nice people!

US Trip: Day 10

2010-10-04T18:56:00.003-05:00

This was the last day in US. The next day was Saturday and would be spent travelling to Chicago and waiting to get the plane for the first long leg of the journey home. On this Friday, after taking Allan to work, I went to the school where I used to work. Only a few people even knew I was coming so I surprised several teachers. Of course I hardly had any time to catch up with people because they were all teaching classes and doing duties. But I hung out with Peg a little and Jeff, Dana, and Carol. It was a little weird being back, seeing what I used to do which is so different from what I am doing now. I remembered how many worries and dreams I had when I was working there and how these people helped me fulfil some of those dreams. No matter how much time passes, I will always remember the teachers and staff at Eureka Middle School for their generous hearts and the great friends I have there.

I left to get Allan from work because he got off early and then finished my shopping with new shoes and sandals. I was relieved – all the shopping was done. I started packing as soon as I dropped the last bag on the bedroom floor.

I took a break from packing to meet Kevin and my niece Jessica downtown for pizza at Old Chicago. Jessica is 10 now and so big and tall. She is as tall as your average Indian 13 year old. Fortunately the bangles I had brought from India were for a 13 year old so they fit her perfectly. She was happy with them (I got her 3 full sets of bangles which means 48 of each color) and immediately made plans to share them with her best friend. Then I hugged her goodbye and went to meet my nephew Kenny who was still at his job. When he was off work, we hung around in his room for a while letting my clothes dry in the dryer. He followed me to Allan’s house and helped me pack the last of my things and weigh the bags to make sure they were in the weight limit for the airline. After he left I collapsed into bed.

US Trip: Day 9

2010-10-04T18:56:00.001-05:00

The best part of this day was dinner with the Shufords, Ian and Adam. When I worked at the school, I met Bethany Shuford and her mother. Bethany was a student and Cindy worked at the school. Bethany was one of my favourite students because she was funny and smart with a great sense of humor and imagination. She and Adam were sometimes friends also. When Adam lived in Eureka, he lived across the street from Ian Emser, a young man who had attended a private school for most of his life. Adam and he hit it off really well and became great friends, hanging out nearly every day, playing video games, watching movies and walking around the college campus.

When my parents died, Adam moved back with his mother. He had long moved from Eureka anyway but had stayed in touch with Ian, meeting him sometimes like good old times. By then Ian had started high school in Eureka. I think it was there that he met Bethany and they became a couple.

What a small world that these three friends got into the same circle! I stayed in touch with all through Facebook and this helped them stay in touch with each other. So when Cindy, Bethany’s mom, saw that I was coming to US for a visit, she arranged for all of us to meet at her house for dinner and a little old times.

She made a lovely vegetarian chicken salad using some substance she found at Kroger (I forget the name!). Bethany and Ian are both vegetarians so this was nice. I brought bhel puri mix which Ian and Bethany liked. And we had pie as dessert along with memories of the old days. Ian showed me his latest art project and I learned about Bethany’s screen play and her acting auditions. It was a lovely evening all the way around!

US Trip: Day 8

2010-10-04T18:55:00.003-05:00

Every day of the time in Peoria I had to get up early to take Allan to work. It felt like I never actually rested. Ever. After dropping him at work, I usually dove back into shopping and trying to meet friends. I hate shopping by the way. Especially for clothes and shoes. And clothes, shoes, and sandals were the main items on the list. I was lucky to find so many nice shirts at Catherine’s. Now I needed pants and any other shirts I could find. There was also some medications I wanted which I can find in India but they are often low in stock or out of stock. I like the hair bands in US better and the hair clips as well so I bought some of those. And of course everyone wants some US chocolate. I decided to buy a new luggage set also. This would have been cheaper in India but I had need of it now. So I bought a nice 5 piece set. I gave one bag to Allan because I didn’t need all those. My green backpack, friend on so many of my adventures, finally needs retirement – one of its many zippered compartments broke, the cats have clawed the front of the bag and the lining inside is torn and broken. So I am on the market for a new bag with lots of pockets.

On this day I mostly shopped and had meals with my brother and his girlfriend. I am glad that I was able to find all the shirts and pants including 2 new pairs of blue jeans. I heaped everything in my room and it started to look like a refugee camp in there. The cats found it amazing, even Allan’s Daffodil kitty who came to check it out. The only other thing which happened on this day was me locking the keys in the car.

I knew I was going to do it eventually. It was a case of telling yourself not to do something and then, of course, you do it. I went across the street to call someone because of course the phone was in the car also. One of Allan’s neighbours was home, a friendly older lady who let me use the phone to call the police who gave me the numbers of two auto towing companies who will come to places when people lock their keys and they get them out. I called the one called Auto Tech.

Within 15 minutes a young guy pulled up. I was amazed at how fast he was! Not only am I used to living where time is treated as the least important factor but I am not used to towing companies being so timely. He said he hated to wait himself so he didn’t want others to wait because of him. What a nice attitude, yes? Within 2 minutes he had my car open and followed me to the ATM so I could pay him his fee. Needless to say, I clutched the car keys very carefully after that.

US Trip: Day 7

2010-10-04T18:55:00.001-05:00

I was not well rested on this 5th day of our trip. I tried to stay awake but it was too hard. I switched places with Allan but I realized that when I fell asleep in the passenger seat, Allan soon fell asleep in the driver’s seat. This was alarming! I finally stopped at a gas station and bought more coffee. Then I took over and drove for 12 hours, stopping only for food on the go and to use the loo. Just before Des Moines, I asked Allan to drive because when I try to drive at night, the glare of the traffic can make me a little confused, a situation which would be compounded by my extremely tired state.

As it was, I didn’t want Allan to fall sleep nor I even if I was in the passenger seat. Allan is a big World of Warcraft (WoW) fan so I decided to make him talk about his characters and experiences to make him stay awake. It worked – he didn’t fall asleep even once in the next 4 hours! I learned a lot about the game and struggled to always have fresh questions to ask him. But, except for a near hit with a deer on the highway near our home, we arrived in Peoria at 12 AM.

US Trip: day 6

2010-10-04T18:54:00.001-05:00

Mike and Willie sweetly conveyed their condolences to us as we debarked and went on our way back to the car. We took the trolley this time, a conveyance I had observed as we had been driven on the tricycle. 2 USD took us around the piers and back to the one where we had parked. We consulted our map and got help from passersby who gave instructions on where to go to see Muir Woods. It was not far from the city so we hoped we could reach it before it got too dark. But we got lost before we even left the Bay area so I said, let’s just go back to Roseville and get a good night’s rest. So we left with me driving this time. We arrived at nightfall and went to the same hotel. This time my room was nice. The first time, the room had been smoky smelling even though it was a non-smokers room.

We found that most of the restaurants were closed but the hotel clerk told us that there was a 24 hour Mexican place nearby. We found it and enjoyed some pretty authentic Mexican food – they even had vegetarian options. We went back to our rooms and, after surfing the internet for a few minutes for the food to digest a little, I went to bed and finally had a good night’s sleep for the first time since reaching the US.

Day 6 of my trip in US and day 4 of our trip, we woke early and headed out on the road with just coffee and some snacks. We drove nearly non-stop. I was determined to reach Cheyenne. When we stopped it was for fast food, gas and/or to use the loo. I drove for the longest time in my whole life: 14 long hours. I tried to reach Cheyenne but simply was too exhausted. We made it as far as Rawlins, Wyoming where we found a big hotel area which advertised cheap prices. We found a room which had two beds but was divided into two rooms. It seemed perfect for what we needed. We tried to find a restaurant here but finally settled for the bar across the road from the hotel.

There were several people in the bar when we arrived but the dining room was deserted. The hour seemed to be early for that – it was around 7 PM. There were few vegetarian options on the menu but that is to be expected when eating in Wyoming! I finally settled on a grilled cheese sandwich and mashed potatoes. It was good in that down home cooking kind of way. I went back to the room so tired I could hardly walk. I slept but fitfully. As soon as the alarm on my mobile went off, I woke up and couldn’t sleep anymore. I quickly dressed and went out, got gas for the car and some snacks as well as hot coffee. This would see us until afternoon when, with any luck, we would have made huge efforts to be close to home.

US Trip: Day 5

2010-10-04T18:53:00.004-05:00

We had originally thought to go to Monterey where we had been told there were tourist trips to the ocean for whale watching and things like that. But a friend of mine pointed out that San Francisco was closer and we would surely find someone there who would take us out. So we hopped in the car after a breakfast at the restaurant next to our hotel and joined the 6 lane highway that went over the Golden Gate Bridge. It was a thrill to finally see this American icon and engineering feat! It took a long time to pass over because there was an incredible rush but we finally made it and found ourselves on the Bay, seeing piers and signs for things to see. We decided to find Fisherman’s Wharf literally because we assumed there would be fishermen there who might either let us take a trip into the ocean for a fee or guide us to where a tour trip could be bought. We parked the car, gathered my mother’s ashes into my back pack and headed for the wharf.

It didn’t take long to realize that Fisherman’s Wharf was too far away if we wanted to get there in a timely fashion. Everything about this trip had been pressed for time – even this, the main goal of the trip. We saw that there were guys wearing brightly colored t-shirts and riding bicycles with 3 wheels and a place for passengers to sit. We went to a few and asked if there were people by the wharf who would help us take a boat ride into the ocean. They all said that near Fisherman’s Wharf, there were some guys with boats who give tours of the bay for 15 USD. We walked a little more and finally gave into the temptation, asking one of these guys with the tricycle to take us to that wharf.

I tipped the guy generously when he let us down at the wharf. He laughed when I referred to having to carry my brother Allan and I who are both heavyset. He claimed to have driven heavier but I think he was just being sweet. We landed on the pier where these guys were supposed to me and looked out at the boats docked along the wall. Sure enough, several bore signs advertising tours and numbers to call for the captain. But as we were getting ready to call one such number, our attention was drawn to shouts at the far end of the pier. We went down to find a couple of guys hawking their tour and tour boat at the top of their lungs.

We discreetly approached one of these men and asked what the tour was about. It seems that they take tourists in the boat out under the Golden Gate Bridge, around Alcatraz Prison and back to the dock, giving facts and sightseeing points along the way. 15 USD got you a guided tour of the immediate bay area. We asked him if they went to the ocean. He said no – the closet they got was the Golden Gate Bridge. We told him that we had our mother’s ashes and wanted to put them in the ocean. He looked confused and said this was out of his league; he referred us to his partner who was still extolling the joys of the tour to the people walking by.

We stepped over to this guy and he listened to our request. He said he did an entire funeral for 450 USD. I said we didn’t need an entire funeral, just a chance to get as near to the ocean as possible to put Mom’s ashes where she wanted them. He considered it for a few minutes. Then he pointed to two chairs on his boat situated at the back of the boat. He said, “You two sit there. When we get under the Golden Gate Bridge, I’ll let you know when you can put the ashes into the water – the tide is just now going out.”

We were satisfied with this arrangement. We paid the fee and settled in while the guy, whose mane was Mike, and his partner, Willie, tried to get more passengers. After a while the boat was full and we started out. The weather was hot until we passed the wharves. Then the wind was chilled and the waves choppy. The driver of the boat told jokes as we chugged along and told us facts about the things we passed as we moved towards the Golden Gate Bridge. Allan took pictures and I situated myself in a way that would allow me to discreetly put the ashes into the water. We didn’t want the wind picking up ashes and putting them in the eyes of the other passengers!

When we went under the bridge, Mike came and said I should get ready. We sat under the bridge long enough to take pictures and witness the huge shadow the bridge cast. Then we went completely under and turned the boat around. Mike signalled that I should release the ashes and I did so, hanging the bag over the boat. For a few seconds the water turned greyish brown as what was left of my dear mother finally found her desired resting place. She never saw the ocean in all of her 46 years, but, as she wished, her ashes joined that ocean, one of the mightiest bodies of water on Earth. And I felt at peace even as I cried a few tears.

US Trip: Day 3 and 4

2010-10-04T18:53:00.002-05:00

My mother had always said that when she died, she wanted her ashes put in the Pacific Ocean. She had always loved the ocean though she had never seen it herself. She specified the Pacific Ocean because she said it was warm but the Atlantic Ocean was cold. So when she died in 2004, I started worrying about how I would ever afford the trip which would allow us to put her ashes where she wanted them. Well, I realized this time as I prepared to go to US, that I had the money now. And as an added bonus, I thought Allan and I could drive the way to California to the San Francisco Bay where we might find a fisherman willing to take us to the ocean.

I proposed the idea to Allan and much to my surprise, he agreed. We figured the gas and other costs and the route. We woke early Friday morning to start the journey. Neither of us had been out west before. We knew we would see the Rocky Mountains and we planned to drive until we were close to these and then rest so we could see the mountains in the day time and drive more safely through them. The drive started well with a delicious breakfast at a truck stop called Homestead. For a vegetarian who doesn’t mind eating eggs sometimes, breakfast can be the easiest meal to order. I had a cheesy omelette and a tasty cinnamon roll.

We drove and drove for what seemed like hours. We started to see the land change a little after we left Nebraska. Nebraska was the hardest state to cross because we drove its entire length to reach Wisconsin. It was quite dark out when we arrived in Wisconsin but we knew there was something outside the windows besides the corn fields we had become used to seeing. Something dark loomed up here and there and there was a closeness in the darkness. We settled on Cheyenne as a good town to sleep in. We found a mom and pop hotel which set us up in a two bed room and tried to sleep.

Allan slept but I could not. His snoring kept me awake!

We had a tasty breakfast at the Perkins restaurant before hitting the road once again. While leaving Cheyenne, we encountered the rising sun. It was much brighter than we had ever seen the sun. We figured the higher altitude must have caused this affect. We could barely see to drive! By now we could see that the looming we had detected in the darkness were the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. As we drove along we saw more and more mountains. There was yellow sagebrush blooming on the side of the road and stretching over the mostly empty landscape. We saw few animals except some cows or horses from time to time. Allan saw a pronghorn deer but I missed it. The mountains held few trees and were mostly clothed with sagebrushes of various kinds.

We travelled on and on. Through Utah where we found the salt flats to be as impressive as we had imagined. We passed Bonneville Speedway where hundreds of land speed records have been broken on the compacted salt flat track built there. People had taken rocks, sticks and even bottle and written things in the salt flats with them. Sometimes it was a person’s name, other times a greeting. Sometimes elaborate pictures would be discerned as you passed it. These things must have been easier to read and see from the air. We understood by signs along the way that the highway was monitored by aircraft.

Nevada had even more mountains and these were sparsely clothed as well. We started seeing more signs for casinos and even see a few on the road as we rushed by. We thought Reno would never come because we kept seeing signs for that big city but it hardly seemed to come closer. When we did pass it, we were happy and it felt like we were making real progress. We were already starting to get tired of sagebrush and sand!

We made it to Roseville, California before we couldn’t drive anymore. We got a little lost in Roseville, having taken the wrong exit for the hotels, but finally found a hotel where we could get separate rooms. We found a cheap inn and settled in for a good night’s sleep before pushing on to San Francisco.

US Trip: Day 2

2010-10-04T18:50:00.001-05:00

My brother Allan had picked me up at the Bradley College student center and we had dinner at the Dynasty Buffet. I was very tired and jet lagged. There is more to jet lag than the time difference you find when you land where you were heading. There is a weird sensation which happens when you spend hours on a plane moving through the sky at high altitudes. Maybe from the different levels of oxygen. But for sure I think it’s because for hours you feel your body is moving forward but you cannot see that it is moving forward because the windows are closed or too far away. You find that after you land, it still feels as if you are hurtling forward when in reality you are not. Add fatigue from not sleeping and the stress of sitting for so long and you find that it’s easy to get a feeling akin to vertigo when you move too quickly or stand up fast.

I got up early the next day to take Allan to work and started the shopping right away. Although I can find shirts in India, most are not wide enough in the shoulders. I have had some bad experiences with tailors also so I have been reluctant to go that way again. So when I come to US, a large amount of time and money is spent in getting new shirts, pants, shoes and sandals. I found several new shirts at the Catherine’s store near my brother’s house.

My cats staying at Allan’s house knew me right away even though a year had passed since they had seen me. Tigger especially was thrilled to see me. She turned into a little shadow and followed me from room to room. As soon as I would sit or lay down, she would come and do happy paws on me, perforating my skin and purring loudly. I took Desire longer to warm up although he did come running up to me as soon as I called him. But he would dash away again after I petted him a little.

The next day, Allan and I embarked on our west coast trip.

US Trip: Day 1

2010-10-04T18:00:00.000-05:00

Udhay was finally able to secure tickets for my US trip. Apparently, most fares were outside the budget allowed for travel for my team. He got seats on an Air India (AI) plane which wasn’t very pleasing because my own experience with the airline had not been good and there have been several bad accidents on AI flights of late. I was prepared for the worst.

The AI flight from Bangalore to Mumbai was short and not much of a judge. My seat mate was a friendly fellow with a good sense of humor. We landed and I found my next flight. We were shunted into the gate area where dozens of other passengers were also waiting for flights as they came up. The area where we were assigned had no running water. This was an annoyance and a little surprising. I am used to the Bangalore international airport which is still very young as far as airports go – it has only been running for 3 years now. That airport is clean, modern and comfortable. Mumbai’s airport was a bit of a dump. In addition to no running water which meant not being able to wash hands after using the bathroom, there were no other concessions. There was a tea and coffee stand which was woefully under stocked and a drinks stand where the clerk was falling asleep. The wait for the flight to Chicago was long. I passed it watching people and trying to finish a book I had started earlier that week.

I do not keep books anymore. When I am done with them, I give them to friends or leave them in public places for someone else to pick up and enjoy. I was hoping to finish reading this one before the flight was called. I wasn’t able to but finished it on the flight (I left the book on that plane when I left). When we were finally called to board the plane, I waited until the last minute. I do not like to wait for a long time while people settle their luggage and seats. I also do not like to make people wait while I settle mine. When I finally took my seat I was pleasantly surprised to find that the leg space was a little bigger than I remembered it and the seatbelt was big enough to accommodate my big belly. The lady who sat at the end of my row smiled. The seat between us was free so we used it for our various things – her neck pillow and eye shades and my puzzle books and book.

The flight was uneventful except for occasional turbulence. I watched one of the movies and dozed off from time to time. My seat mate slept like a doll. Suddenly we heard the announcement that we were landing in Frankfurt, Germany. This surprised me because there was no mention of this stop on my tickets. But stop we did and we waited for 2.5 hours in a small waiting room before we again trooped onto the plane. The plane had been cleaned and new blankets, pillows and headphones issues while we had been away.

The flight to Chicago was long and boring. I had watched all the movies and shows I was interested in. I set the music channel to play some songs I had selected and slept a little. When we had waited in Frankfort, my seatmate and I had gotten to know each other a little. She was coming to USA for the first time to visit her daughters who were finishing college degrees in the US. She had never flown from her country before yet she was very calm and relaxed. I helped her understand the terminal map her daughters had sent her of the Chicago airport. We talked a little about where she lived and where I live. Now, as we waited for the plane to finally reach Chicago, we discussed our plans for our US trips. But when the plane finally landed, we went our separate ways – she to the queues for non-resident passport holders and me to the US citizen queue. I hoped she had a great trip in USA 

I made it through Immigration without any hitches and went to the luggage carrel. There I spotted my bag wedged in among the other bags. It took two tries to drag it from the pile – the Jaws of Life might have helped. Then I had a three hour wait for the Peoria Charter Coach bus which would take me to Peoria. When it came, I hopped onto it and soon the dimness inside lulled me into some sleep.

Pink Eye Palooza: Misery!

2010-10-04T17:11:00.000-05:00

Conjunctivitis can be caused by a virus or by bacteria. Some people also get it from allergies. The viral and bacterial form is highly contagious. All you have to do to inadvertently spread it is to rub your eye because it hurts or itches and then open a door. The infection now on the door handle and the next person to use the door picks it up. Then he rubs his eye or touches his eye because we do these things all the time without thinking about it. And he now has your infection.

I have no idea how I got the infection but get it I did. I have had a stye before in my eye and thought that was hard to deal with. But pink eye was a bane for sure! By the next morning, the infection had spread to my left eye. The right one was red, weeping constantly and hugely swollen. I was dutifully squeezing the prescribed drops into my tortured eyes and this brought a little relief. But I could hardly stand to look at the TV or the computer screen. I basically laid on the bed with my eyes closed. Then, when I would have to open them for some reason, I had to stumble to the sink and use water to unseal them where the drainage from the eyes had sealed my eyes shut!

My colleague who lives above me brought my phone charger from the office. She stood in my living room and sort of looked at me like you do a train wreck: you know you shouldn’t stare but you cannot help it! By the next day, I was starting to feel a little better but still stayed inside. The bright sunlight hurt my eyes and the possibility of dirt getting blown into my eyes was high.

Sunday I crept out for a lunch at Spoonful of Sugar with my colleague. I went later that evening to Satish at G Medicals and he gave me a new eye drop which was used to reduce the swelling. It started working immediately! By Tuesday when I was supposed to fly, I was recovered!

I do not hope to ever get pink eye again! I will be twice as careful as I was ever before about touching my eyes when I have been out and about. I used to tease people about using hand sanitizers which they carry around in their purses or pockets. Now I think they might be onto something!

Pink Eye Palooza: The Visa

2010-10-04T17:10:00.000-05:00

The next day, armed with the signed inspection sheet and the growing stack of papers, Udhay and I again went to the FRO office. We joined the queue of other foreigners. Some were students, many were business people. Some were people who might have gotten jobs in Bangalore. It was strange to see so many foreigners in one place! We finally reached the front of the queue where men sat at desks. One took my papers and began to look through them. The papers had a check list on top which showed all the papers I needed to present. He leafed through the pages several times, sometimes asking me for a certain document or two which I found and pointed out for him. After what seemed like a million perusals of the documents, he assigned me number and I was let out of the queue to wait.

Most of the benches set around for waiting on were dotted liberally with pigeon poop. The birds sat in the corners of the eaves and had their way with whatever was below. We managed to find some clean seats and waited for my number to be called.

Our wait was surprisingly short! I scurried into the building when my number was called and displayed on the number counter over the doorway. I still waited about 5 minutes while the guy who was supposed to help me with the next step helped someone else who seemed to have cut into the queue. Udhay had been told he couldn’t come into the building with me – not any rule as such, but more like the whim of the director. So when I showed my papers to this new fellow and he told me he wouldn’t issue a 3 month extension with a 9 month extension coming from Delhi, I sort of panicked!

The rules for visa renewal/new visa seem to change daily as the Indian government tries to find a system that works well and fast for the hundreds of foreigners needing to get visas. Until that day, Udhay had found that asking for a 3 month extension from Bangalore and a 9 month visa from Delhi seemed to work best. A couple of my colleagues had done this and received their visas. But this fellow actually laughed when I told him that and wanted to know who had told me this. I didn’t divulge because he was basically telling me that the visa request form would have to be rewritten to reflect a request for a 12 month visa, not this 3 and 9 month thing.

While he again pawed through the other papers for a 900th time, I hastily sent a text to Udhay about this sudden change. He snuck in and spoke to the guy. It seems that just that day, the government had given Bangalore the ability to issue a full 12 month visa. We obviously didn’t argue. It only remained to be seen if the letter request written the way it was would be accepted or not.

I went through all the other steps: stepping into a tiny room where a lady signed my papers (no idea who she was or what she needed to sign for) and then getting into queue where I relinquish my passport and pray they stamp a visa before the end of the day. The inspection of my papers for visa approval took longer than the others in queue. The workers smashed into the desks behind the main counters were passing the stack of papers here and there and taking it back into rooms I couldn’t see. Finally, the lady at the counter told me to take a receipt which she handed me and come back to pay the fee for the visa.

I gave the receipt to Udhay who told me to eat at the vegetarian hotel across the road while he went for the fee. I was as tired if not more so than the day before and had not eaten either. So I was happy to tuck into a big veg thali with rice, dal, veggies and curd. I had strong coffee as well. I waited in the waiting area of the FRO when I was done and at last, Udhay brought the receipt showing that he had paid the fee for the visa. I took it back to the counter and they said I could return that very day at 4:30 PM and get my visa. I went home for a little nap while we waited.

All day I had been having trouble with my right eye. It was very sore and itchy. Several times it felt as if a film was covering it and no amount of blinking would dislodge it. By the time I got up to go back for the visa, the eye was blood shot and very sore. I picked up my passport with its new 12 month visa stamped inside and went to work.

The elation of receiving my visa was somewhat dampened when I visited the office doctor and she informed me that I had pink eye! Conjunctivitis, it seems, was going around the city. Schools and offices were facing record numbers of the infection. She prescribed some medicine and advised that I go home immediately. I confirmed with my lead and went home, thankful for the new visa but now worried if I would recover enough to fly.

Pink Eye Palooza: The Inspection

2010-10-04T17:07:00.002-05:00

The good news is that my contract with the company was renewed and I was being given another year in India. I arranged for some time off to go to America to see my family and friends. But before I left, it was decided that I would need to get my new visa. I used to do this in India when I went back home for a visit but ever since security concerns around David Headley and the Mumbai bombings of 26/11, India has changed their policies around how a foreign national renews visas.

A week before I was to fly, the relocations manager Udhay and I started this process. It started with a trip to the Foreign Registration Office (FRO) in Bangalore. Udhay had already helped some of my colleagues with this process so he was prepared with a stack of papers. I had brought my passport and, after filling in a few more papers, I joined the queue to get the proper paperwork for the next step.

The next step was the local police station. The FRO gave me a paper for them to sign. It was written in Kannada but Udhay told me it basically told a police inspector to go to my house for a brief inspection. We got back into the car and made our way to the police station. We waited over 3 hours for an inspector to be available and we went to my flat. The inspection was rather cursory and all he did was ask me two times if I lived alone. I said I do and then the inspector spoke to Udhay a little in Kannada before we returned to the police station. Now we waited nearly 4 hours for the police chief to grant me an audience. By this time, everyone in the office knew I could read and write Kannada, a skill they found admirable and amazing. Many Indians living in Bangalore who do not speak Kannada do not try to learn the mother tongue of the state. So finding a foreigner who was learning was a novelty indeed.

By the time the police chief finally granted me an audience, I was very tired. In order to do this renewal stuff, I had had to get up before 8 am; I am usually asleep until 12-1 PM! I went into the chief’s office, ushered by the desk clerk. He told the chief that I was learning Kannada and that I could read and write. He looked stunned! He took my papers and looked through them. He asked me, “Why have you learned Kannada?” and the way he asked that, it sounded as if I had committed a crime! I said I had known I was going to live in Bangalore and Kannada was the city’s mother tongue. He just nodded.

He started searching around his desk as if looking for something. While he searched, I counted at least 9 mobile phones of different models all over his desk! Finally, opening the stack of my paperwork to the letter the FRO had given me to give to the police inspector, the chief asked that I read what was written there in Kannada. So I did! He seemed very surprised. He spoke to the desk clerk and laughed – I cannot understand Kannada well enough to know what he said or even if it was derogatory, but I hoped it wasn’t!

Finally he had heard enough. He took the papers from me. “Very good, madam,” he said. With a flourish, he signed the paper he needed to sign and dismissed me.

Feedback

2010-10-04T17:05:00.000-05:00

I have been told that sometimes my posts are too long - great to read but hard to read all at once. So I am going to start making them shorter. Tell me what you think :-)

Eid ul Fitr and Ganesha Chaturathi

2010-09-10T01:05:00.000-05:00

This weekend marks special days for Muslims and Hindus all over India. Some of my readers may be familar with Ramadan, the month long fast which Muslims have. Today marks the end of the fasting month. There will be lots of feasting, gift giving and family gathering between today and 12 September which is the period in which Muslims celebrate Eid. Check out this link for some more details:

Eid ul Fitr Festival in India

Saturday marks the beginning of one of the Hindus biggest festivals, Ganesha Chaturathi. You can think of it as Lord Ganesha's birthday :-) The festival lasts for ten days. Murtis or statues of Lord Ganesha are installed in homes, stalls, shops and temples all over India but especially in the states of Maharastra, Goa, Orissa, Karnataka, Andhra Pradesh and Tamil Nadu. Poojas or prayer ceremonies are given to the murtis every day. At the end of the festival, the statues of Lord Ganesha will be immersed in water. I have researched why the idols are put in water and what I understand is that basically, a statue doesn't have life until poojas are performed to invite God to reside, for a time in the statue. That is what happens during the festival. The poojas invite God in the form of Lord Ganesha to live in the statues for the festival so that devotees can pay homage to this God who is thought to bring health, wealth and good fortune by removing from our lives the things which prevent good health, wealth and fortune. But although Lord Ganesha is worshipped daily by Hindus, being the first god prayed to in the pantheon of deities, after the Ganesha Chaturathi, devotees would go back to praying to Lord Ganesha through their usual statues, at temples or without an idol present. So God, who was invited to live in the statue during the festival, is released when the statue is immersed. Check the following link for more details about Lord Ganesha and the Ganesha Chaturathi:

Ganesha Chaturathi

Update 5 September 2010

2010-09-04T17:26:00.000-05:00

I am heartened to learn that some people still read this blog even though I do not post often. I will try to post more - sometimes I get too caught up in work, sleep, playing games and watching TV.

A few things have changed since my trip to Bangkok which was the last thing I wrote about. I have traveled again - this time back to Bintan, Indonesia with my friends Ganu and Lilli again. It was a short vacation but lovely even though I had a terrible cold! Otherwise I haven't travelled again since. But I will travel to Calicut soon to see one of my adopted little brothers get married. Calicut is in Kerala and, although I passed through Calicut once on my way from Wayanad to Cochin, I didn't see much of it. I will spend about 2 days there this time - let's see what fun I will have in addition to seeing my little brother get married. And later in this month I will take my annual trip to the US to see my family before my visa expires. When I come back to India, I will have to get the visa renewed and I have a feeling that will be an adventure worth blogging about when it's over. Ever since 26/11 Mumbai and that Headley chap, India has become much stricter about the visa process.

The biggest news of all for my personal life besides the fact that my contract here at work is renewed for one more year, is the arrival of Lucy. Lucy came back in April actually. She is a kitten - the daughter of my colleague's cats. Her father is a Persian and her mom an Indian street cat who now has a plushy home with my colleague and his wife. Lucy was brought to my house to be a companion for Squeeby who was starting to get very restless. They hit it off pretty fast and are now great friends. They play a lot and sleep together also. She is a beautiful little tortoiseshell and squeaks - she doesn't meow, she squeaks!

That's really all there is to tell :-)

Keep checking for more updates :-)

Hello?

2010-04-09T04:27:00.002-05:00

Just checking to see of anyone is even reading my blog any more?

Bangkok Vacation Part 3

2010-04-06T16:59:00.000-05:00

Day Three and Four:

On the third day, after breakfast at the hotel we went to the last stop on the sky train towards the station Mo Chit. Here we met Warren for the last outing. He drove us to Ayutthaya where we first stopped at the floating market. The first thing I saw when we got out of the car into the unbearable heat was the ruins of the old palace situated on the riverside. I was immediately drawn to this area and while the others were getting situated to go to the floating market, I went to take some pictures of the ruins and the river. The dry ground and leafless trees reminded me of the fall season in the US only much hotter. I wanted to sit under the trees in the shade and contemplate that old palace which was over 600 years old and watch the slow current of the river. But Ganu called me to join them so I went to catch up.

Warren had secured a table for us in the market. The floating market is so named because it’s made up of bamboo platforms lashed together, covered with awnings and set up over the river. There were two main sides – one that had stalls set up and one that had chairs and tables made of bamboo. A concrete walkway bisected the two sides. Free Pepsi was available all day. At the gate, one pays for meal tickets and then one takes the meal tickets to any of the food stalls and turns over the tickets for food which one eats on the tables. Warren scurried around getting us as much authentic veg food as he could think of. We were all full from breakfast but we couldn’t bear to waste the food or offend Warren! So we valiantly nibbled at whatever food he brought us and sipped Pepsi.

The market was set up over the river and the tables and stalls looked out over a special area of the river where boardwalks were built just under the water’s surface. Lotus grew in the river and a platform was built in the middle of the river. Soon young men dressed in white clothes came out from boats on the river to perform a dance on the platform. After a while, women dressed in white joined them and performed. A dancer dressed up as a king soon came as well and all groups and the king performed a dance. Warren explained that the dancers were students from a nearby college who learned this traditional Thai dance. They earn some extra money while sharing their traditions with tourists and fellow Thai alike. The dance was very intricate and because the danced on the walkways under the surface of the river, it looked as if they were floating.

We opted not to stay for a full drama which Warren said would tell some romantic story. We packed up and went to the Elephant Village. Another place for retired logging elephants, this village has made the elephants into a full tourist attraction. There are even AC bungalows which tourists can rent and stay for days with the elephants, watching them be trained and watching them do what work they can find in the city as well as the daily shows demonstrating elephant work.

At first I was really enchanted by the village. There were a great number of elephants there including at least 4 juveniles, one only a few days old. Two of the babies ran around with the tourists, fighting for laying rights in the water troughs and playing with each other. The youngest baby was in an enclosure with several other elephants. It was having great fun playing in puddles and practicing getting up and down from the slippery concrete ground.

But after a while, the oldest baby who was rather naughty was harassed by one of the village workers. He tried to make the baby turn back from whatever it was doing which seemed to be sucking water from the ground which it had been doing since we arrived. When the baby refused to go with the worker, the young man started to kick the baby’s legs and pull its ear. When it still refused to budge, the worker took a thick needle or wire and pricked the baby’s sensitive ear. It ran away from the worker who just walked back to the table where he had been sitting. I couldn’t understand why the worker had even tried to move the baby in the first place and was disgusted by his actions. Soon after that I saw other workers with larger elephants using the sharpened end of a special tool they all carried to prick the ears of the elephants to make them move around. I had never seen this tool used before - in India when I had seen elephants with mahouts, the mahouts seemed to use wooden or metal bars with a crook at the end to hook over the elephant’s ear and pull to make the elephant move left or right. These hooks don’t have points that I have ever seen but these workers in the Elephant Village had sharp points which the workers often stopped to hone to sharper points with a file they carried on their belts. A closer look showed me that most of the elephants there were corralled in tight quarters, chained to bars without water and with limited food in reach. All the elephants swayed back and forth repeatedly and the clang clang of their chains was a steady rhythm. Suddenly I felt very badly for all these giants, chained and bored, waiting for workers with pointed weapons to prod them to the watering hose for a cooling bath and some hay, waiting for the next show to start, waiting for some work to do. I wished right then and there that the government had allotted land for these elephants to live naturally on until the end of their days rather than this undignified and boring existence with workers who used such means to force them into working. I was so disgusted and saddened by it all that I left Ganu and Lilli and sat in the shade of an eatery, waiting for them to finish so we could move from there.

After one and a half hours, Ganu and Lilli were ready to leave the Elephant Village. Warren drove into the town center where Warren showed us Wat Phra Mahathat where the trees had grown around a Buddha head . He also showed us places where he had grown up, having lived in that place when he was a boy. We took some pictures of the ruins and the Buddha head before Warren passed out some souvenirs he had selected for us. We drove back to Bangkok and parted ways with Warren. He had been a great guide, a funny and happy man and had become a friend over the three days we had been with him. I gave him a big hug goodbye!

Ganu and Lilli wanted to do some shopping now that Warren thought the area would be safe from the RSs but I don’t like shopping at the best of times, let alone when I am tired and hot. So I parted ways, went back to the hotel, took a cooling bath and a nap.

When Ganu and Lilli returned to the hotel, we headed out once more for a restaurant recommended by Warren – the Banana Leaf inside the Silom Mall. Here we again had red curry and some fine noodles win mimosa. I had a fantastic watermelon shake. Afterwards, Ganu and Lilli had ice cream. They had not been able to do all the shopping they had hoped for because many shops in that area had closed due to the RSs encamped nearby. So we headed back to the hotel full of good food.

Ganu and Lilli’s flight back to Singapore was scheduled for early Monday morning while my flight back to Bangalore was late Monday evening. So we said goodbye Sunday night after having a drink in the hotel bar. I told Ganu and Lilli that I always worry my company gets to be too bothersome because I am always talking about things I see and notice and I never seem to react to things as all expect me to or to react enthusiastically to things even if I do really like them. They denied all such things and said if they didn’t enjoy my company they would never have invited me to Bangkok which I had to admit seemed logical. I always enjoy their company and the smooth planning Ganu puts into any trip like this.

After they left, I also went to bed. On Monday morning, after a good sleep, I took a bath and had one last free breakfast. Back in my room which had become a home for the past four days, I packed and napped off and on. Then I checked out, took a cab and headed to the airport.

All in all, Bangkok was fun despite the broiling heat which often made me grumpy and very tired and despite the place’s seeming love affair with stairs. My favourite attraction had been the Ancient City (Muang Boran) and I loved all the ruins we saw as well as the sky bar, miles above the city. Bangkok is a charming mix of old tradition and modernization and even though I couldn’t ever read the signs and sometimes not even menus, I still managed to find my way around – partly due to Warren’s unflagging energy and goodwill. I said goodbye to another adventure in my travels with a bittersweet feeling – I don’t think I will visit Bangkok again but will carry sweet memories under a bright hot sun.

Bangkok Vacation Part 2

2010-04-06T16:49:00.000-05:00

Day 2:

The hotel had both a free internet connection in every room and a free breakfast for every guest. We three met again for breakfast and then took the sky train to nearly the last drop where Warren met us with the usual cheer and smiles. We headed for the day’s adventures.

First stop was the WWII memorabilia places in Kanchanaburi. We opted not to see the museum or the cemetery but we did stop for some time on the bridge over the River Kwea which made its way into history by being built by allied prisoners of war corralled in Bangkok by the Japanese who made the mostly UK and Australian soldiers build a railway on the way to Burma. Many soldiers died from exhaustion, dehydration and diseases while building the railway. We walked over the bridge and, while taking snaps of the view, we were surprised to hear a train whistle. Looking down the tracks we found a train coming! We scurried to one of the many side platforms off the track and soon enough, the engine pulling many cars full of tourists passed right by us. We could have touched the train! Warren later told us that one of the many tourist offerings is to explore areas around Bangkok by this very train.

After the bridge over the River Kwae, we had lunch at a buffet near the highway where again, Warren made sure certain available dishes were safe for Ganu and me. After lunch, we went to Sai Yok waterfalls where Ganu and Lilli had hoped to swim. The waterfall was not spectacular because of the summer season but it still had a good stream cascading down the rock face and pooling below where mostly kids played and swam. Lilli and Ganu decided not to swim when they saw next to no adults in the water and no women in bikinis which is all Lilli had with her for swimming. Warren told us that Thai women usually don’t wear bikinis when swimming in public but jump in wearing their clothes, having brought separate clothes to change into when they were done swimming. So we sat for a while (having again climbed numerous stairs to reach this site) and watched the frolicking before heading for the hawker area. Here I found a few souvenirs for friends before we hit the road again to an elephant camp and bamboo rafting.

When I first saw the rafts we were to ride for the bamboo rafting, I was dubious. Narrow and thin, they seemed to give little protection from the river they floated on top of. The pilot was a young boy who Warren told us came from Burma along with the elephants and other workers in the camp. We crept on board wearing life jackets and a boat pulled us into the middle of the river. Then the boat dropped us off on our raft with our young pilot who then used the river’s current and a paddle to make our way back to where we started. The ride was actually comfortable and we saw some birds, heard gibbons calling in the trees and had a nice breeze as a respite from the heat.

After the rafting, we went to see the elephants which used to log in Burma. Since logging has been banned in Burma and Thailand, these elephants and their handlers are jobless unless they do things like this camp where tourists pay to get elephant rides. This place seemed pretty laid back. The elephants were pretty busy going around and around the track with tourists on their back and they got to go to the river regularly which must have pleased them a lot. There was a baby here who was chained to its mother so that it could go with its mother when she was working. The camp didn’t seem to use the mother much which I felt was good for the baby – it would surely get tired if it had to walk around all day like the other elephants. At this camp, Lilli bought a couple of green banana bunches and we fed one of the elephants. The noise coming from that happy elephant’s trunk and the crunch crunch of the bananas in her mouth were fun to hear.

After the elephant camp, we headed back to Bangkok. The drive was a long one there and back – nearly three hours. Mostly we were tired – I had been tired as soon as I landed and all the climbing and heat didn’t help matters. At the advice of Warren, we went to dinner at a place called Queen of Curry for some authentic Thai food. The menu had items marked as vegetarian but to be sure, Ganu told the waitress the words Warren had taught us for making sure a dish had no meat – not even the seafood that many don’t think of as meat. We ordered red curry and green curry as well as a mushroom soup. All was yummy and I liked the red curry better than the green.

After dinner we took the sky train back to the hotel. There were 7-11 stores all over Bangkok and one very near the hotel where we got extra water and snacks. There were times in Bangkok where I was sure the number of foreigners might outnumber the locals. Literally everywhere you went there were foreigners – mostly Europeans and Indians from the sound of accents. I didn’t really see any other Americans when I was there but there were so many foreigners that I easily could have missed fellow Americans. The 7-11 was a big place to find foreigners and the store resounded with the accents of Russian, German, Dutch, Chinese – you name it! That night I got a little more sleep. We had planned a light day for Sunday because Ganu wanted to do some shopping which he still hadn’t gotten a chance for. The area he needed to go to was near the RSs area and Warren cautioned against it. One of the reasons we had planned a big day outside the city on Saturday was because the RSs had planned a huge demonstration. So we slept and awaited our last big day together in Bangkok.

Bangkok Vacation Part 1

2010-04-06T16:46:00.001-05:00

I would never have thought five years ago that I would be living in India, let alone travelling to exotic places like Indonesia, Singapore and the latest, Thailand. As a child I would pour over my father’s atlas and visit such countries vicariously from the photos and information provided in the book. And in movies such as the Indiana Jones series, I saw the living landscapes even though I realized that many scenes were not even shot on location!
If I were to sum up my visit to Bangkok in a few words as I wait for the flight home in a small Thai restaurant at the airport where the manager is hawking the food enthusiastically to the passing travellers, I would start with a word or two to describe what little of the country and culture I saw in my brief (4 day) visit. People: happy, climate: broiling, architecture: stairifiic (more on that later). People: spoke little English, climate: sunny, architecture: beautiful. Once more – people: smiling, climate: 102 degrees F!!!!, architecture: ancient. And the food could be summed up as delicious, spicy, full of lovely vegetables and exotic.

I landed in Bangkok ahead of my friends Ganu and Lilli. I waited a couple hours, reading my book and watching people. The airport received flights from all over Asia as well as the Middle East and Europe so the mix of people passing by was varied indeed: monks in saffron, Arabs in spotless robes, ladies in coal black burkas. When my friends landed, Ganu got detained for some time because of Thailand’s strict policies regarding visas for certain foreign nationals. When he emerged, we three got a taxi and headed for the hotel. Bangkok was experiencing some political unrest – the Red Shirts (from now onward called RSs), mostly farmers and other of Thailand’s poorer people had converged on the city to hold protests and demonstrations regarding the current government. They had said they wouldn’t bother tourists, tourism being one of Bangkok’s biggest industries, but traffic around the city came to standstills on more than one occasion as we toured. It took us two hours to reach the road where our hotel was located and another 30 minutes while the driver became lost and couldn’t find the hotel. Eventually we called Warren, our tour guide for the vacation and a friend of Lilli’s since she had brought her parents on a tour with Warren and the company he works for in Bangkok. Warren guided the driver and soon we were at our hotel, the Bangkok Heritage.

We no sooner arrived, checked in, greeted Warren and went to our rooms to drop our bags and refresh, when we turned around and left again! Warren had already been waiting for us with a plan for the day. The plan was to visit the Ancient City also called Muang Boran. The Ancient City was a huge many acre park wherein there was situated many statues, temple replicas, ruins, gardens and displays depicting Thailand’s rich history. We rented a golf cart at the entrance and went out with Warren to see what we could see.

A few words about Warren have to be mentioned here. He was an older man (he confessed to being 58 though none of us guessed that age when he asked for our estimates) but had the energy and exuberance that his two year old grandson must also have. He greeted us every day of the three days we spent with him with a smile, a hug, an “I love you guys!” and lots of games, trivia and happiness. He usually acts as the tour guide only and never drives so he excused himself from the beginning for the distraction and asked us to take turns being the tour guide on the long drives. This consisted of playing various games with each other such as guessing pictures of animals, places, people and even silly things like dogs with chicken heads. He brought music for karaoke and games like the triangle with the golf tees game. And always had fresh bottled water and snacks for us. He was a wonderful tour guide and a great man. We enjoyed all he did for us and I for one will never forget him.

The Ancient City kept us busy for at least three hours. We saw the main attractions which Warren said most tourists like including several Buddha statues, temple ruins, temple replicas and some gardens. We climbed many steps to get to the top of a replica of one of the kings old palaces and saw the new city glimmering in the distance from the windy but broiling courtyards while the old flag of Thailand snapped in the breeze above us: a white elephant on a red background. We had lunch at a place in the park – vegetarian items are hard to find in Bangkok but Warren did his best and always produced either products successfully vegetarian or recommendations for restaurants which served vegetarian dishes. A note here – many dishes in these areas are called veg and seem so from the outset until you realize that to many people fish and other seafood are not meat and so anything with shrimp sauce, shrimp, crab etc is called vegetarian here. But Warren found Ganu and I dishes that had no meat at all :-) The lunch was nice, in a floating dining hall where ladies in boats drifted by selling snacks and fruit from boats. When we went back to the city, hot and sunburned (I was anyway), we got stuck in traffic for nearly two hours before we decided to part ways with Warren and find an Indian restaurant to have dinner.

By this time I was a sweat monster. The temps were brutal even by my standards, having gotten used to hotter temps from a year at least in India. But Bangalore never reaches these temps – 40 to 42 C or 102 F. There was very little wind and the sun felt like it was trying to cook us. I quickly realized that there were stairs everywhere. In the city, nearly all places had at least two steps to climb and many places including many tourist attractions and the subways had many steps to climb. I admit freely that I am not in the best of shape but I feel pretty good that despite my weight I managed to spend the three days trekking up numerous stairs and crossing many expanses under 102 degrees F sunny skies!

After a veg platter, chilli bhajji and a watermelon juice at the Indian place, we went back to the hotel to freshen up. We took a taxi to State Tower to the city’s tallest sky bar called Lubea. Located on the 64th floor of the tower, we were escorted onto the open rooftop where gale winds struck us. We made our way down a huge flight of stairs to the restaurant and to the circular bar suspended over the city. The lights of Bangkok spread in a dazzle around us as people jockeyed for room around the glass walls to take pictures and to canoodle their dates. I ordered one of Lubea’s speciality drinks called Air, a mixed drink made with vodka and lichi juice among other things. It wasn’t so bad, actually. Ganu and Lilli had drinks also and after a while, I left them to go back to the gale force winds above the bar and let them have some moments in that romantic place. It was definitely one of those places you would want loving company to experience. They soon joined me and after enjoying the cooling wind for some time, we headed back and ended our first day in Bangkok.

Daily Doings: The Appliances

2010-01-31T03:02:00.004-06:00

I have been asked by some day of my friends in the US what my life is like here and what the day-to-day activities are like. This can be a hard task when one considers that even in the US I didn’t really have the usual routine of things. Here things are also a little skewed because I work at night and Bangalore basically shuts down after 11pm-12 am. I get off work by 2 am and reach home by 2:30 am usually. There isn’t much to do then except play games online, chat, read and play with my cat. I go to sleep when many in the city are waking up and get up when most people are eating lunch. My peak times outside of work find my neighbors asleep and the shops locked and dark. On weekends, a work schedule pervades my life because I can’t seem to shake it just for two days and get up earlier. At the most, I might skip sleep and stay up all weekend sometimes!

All that having been said, I think a good place to start with life in India is at home. My flat is very nice – some of you have seen the pictures from when I first moved in. It has more rooms than I am used to living around but it’s handy for when company comes...which they rarely do! Some of the biggest differences between a home in the US and a home in India are in flooring and appliances. Of course, I speak of my own home and the other homes of Indians which I have been in so if there are readers who have experienced different things than me in their homes, please forgive me.

Please check out the album at the end of this blog for the pictures of some of things talked about in this post.

The floors in most Indian flats are made of finished concrete or other stone tiling including marble. There is no carpeting like you will find in many American homes. If you want soft carpet underfoot there are plenty of area rugs sold in stores and even from time to time a man will show up on the lane selling carpets from a cart he rolls in front of him. This man is nice because you can bargain with him on the rug’s price whereas the stores have fixed prices. The reason for so much concrete and stone can be found in the climate. Much of India experiences monsoon weather where some of the year is spent with rain falling sometimes daily. In such a humid, damp climate, carpet like Americans use would mold and have to be replaced every year. Consider also that the climate is mostly hot...who wants to lay on hot carpet on a hot day? A cool stone floor on a hot day is as good as air conditioning and better for the environment hehe. A final reason I can list for stone floors over carpet is the amount of dust and dirt that gets into an Indian house, especially if you live on the ground floor by a busy street. Pollution is a huge factor in India and not very well regulated. Streets – even paved streets – usually have a lot of dirt and debris on them. Traffic is heavy and adds its own exhaust to the dusty mixture which gusts and billows all over the place. Add to this that many Indian homes do not have screens on the open windows and you can understand better why a lot of dirt and dust comes into the home. Therefore, daily sweeping and mopping has to happen. It’s a housekeeping chore you resign yourself to early in your stay in India and just add it to the daily schedule. And keep your shoes outside because there is a lot of dust and dirt on them which we don’t even think about until it’s tracked on our nice clean floor.

Next the appliances. First thing to mention is India does use a different wattage that the US. The plugs on appliances look different even though some have three prongs and others two just like a plug in the US. Power points, wall sockets are often called here, are almost never located at the base of the wall near the floor. They are usually located half way up the wall and sometimes you will even find one so far up the wall so as to be near the ceiling and you need a ladder just to reach it. I have long pondered the reason for this wiring and came up with only one plausible reason: in some homes, flooding during monsoon is a real threat and if the sockets were at the same level as the floor, you would have short circuits and fried wiring all over. If a reader has more insight, please share it in the comments for the post. An added benefit which I don’t think is intentional is that the electrical outlets are out of the reach of a baby...one less hazard for a child in what is sometimes a haphazard world.

The basic appliances in a middle class Indian household are an oven, a TV, various mixers, often a washing machine, a water heater, and a refrigerator. I specify middle class and I hope this doesn’t offend anyone but many appliances are too expensive for the average Indian laborer to afford and much of the conveniences these gadgets bring to life are otherwise done by hand. There are plenty of housewives in households of all classes who don’t use some of these appliances because it can change the way food tastes or clothes wear. But in a world that has increasingly become faster paced and with the husband and wife both working more, these conveniences are common in households when the income can afford them. In my home, I have all these things – some were provided with the house when I moved in and some I bought. I had a microwave which is also used in houses here and even toaster ovens are used a lot in lieu of a big built oven like we often use in the US. These ovens and other appliances similar to ones found all over the world can be bought here but you will find that small and easily portable trumps the heavy and needing three men to move appliances. But microwaves are not usually used for cooking as such because many Indian foods wouldn’t taste the same if cooked in a microwave. Microwaves are used to heat things up quickly and maybe that’s about it. I have one friend whose mother refuses to have one in her house, saying that they make food taste badly!

Stoves are often fuelled by propane gas. You hook the gas tank up yourself and keep an eye on the usage so that you order a new tank when you’re low. The tanks are usually delivered to your door by delivery boys or by private businesses that specialize in gas delivery. Private companies tend to charge 100-300 rupees more for the tank and service but they can deliver the tank faster (supposedly). The setup is pretty simple: a hose runs from the tank to the stove. You have a regulator on the tank which you turn on to allow gas to flow from the tank to the stove. You turn the knob on the burner you want to use and use an igniter (often fondly called the clicker) to start the flame. The flame can be controlled just like on a gas stove in the US. When you’re done cooking, you switch off the burner and switch off the regulator so that the line is not active anymore and fumes are reduced. Things heat up and cook better on a gas stove, I think.

The washing machine which I have is a bad one. It was here when I moved in and was supposed to be brand new. It’s what they call a semi-automatic. It has two bins: one to wash the clothes and one to rinse and spin the clothes. That means you have to wash them on one side, drain that water, put them in the small spin side and rinse them for about 2 minutes and then spin them in that same bin. There are some drawbacks to this process besides the obvious time it takes to attend to it. The wash side has a small agitator in the bottom of the tub, set somewhat sideways. It rotates for several turns in one direction before doing the same in the opposite direction – over and over again. The end result is that all your clothes get twisted into a knotted mess. Seams weaken and eventually open way before the usual time. Elastic is stretched and twisted and loses purpose. Add to this highly inefficient design the fact that the water we have to wash clothes is often dirty already. We get water brought to the house in tankers and from where they get their water we don’t know. But when the clothes are washed even 3 times, the water is still grayish brown. It took me a while to realize that it was the water and not the clothes that were dirty! As the washing machine has aged under my use, it is no longer able to handle large heavy loads in the spin tub. I have to rinse them there as usual and the take each article of clothing out, wring it out, wait for all the water to leave the spin tub and then carefully arrange the clothing in the tub in small amounts. If the spin tub reaches its full speed when I close the top, I am happy. If it is slower or labored, I have to rearrange the clothes, take some out or even sometimes re-wring them out! As a result of all these things, I only do my laundry once a week when I can dedicate a lot of time to it and there are a lot of clothes I wash by hand and use the machine only for spinning. If I kept washing my clothes in that machine, I wouldn’t have anything still intact to wear!

The stove and the washing machine are the only appliances that are really that different than any we might find in an American household. The mixer I bought is a lovely creation, having 3-4 different containers with different blades to do God only knows what. I mostly use it to make juice because the juice pitcher has a handy screen in the center which filters out any seeds so I can juice whole chunks of watermelon and get a lovely juice in minutes. The refrigerator is quite small compared to many fridges I have seen even in other houses here but it was here when I moved in and I really don’t use it that much…it’s sufficient for what I need it for which is to keep my milk and juice cold. The TV is a standard color TV and the DVD player I bought has a nice speaker system. However, because I usually work in the day and am awake at night, I cannot play music that often so the player and the lovely speakers go largely unused. In fact, now that I have this laptop and it plays CDs, I might sell that system!

So I think that covers all the household things. However, if any reader is curious about something related to this, just send me a message/comment and I will answer it!

http://picasaweb.google.com/entish2/Appliances

Update (17 Jan 2010)

2010-01-17T05:41:00.002-06:00

The most recent update in my life is the purchase of a brand new laptop. It’s a Lenovo G550 with 4 GB memory which can be expanded to 8 GB. The company (Laptop world on 80 Feet Road) was selling it a Canon Pixma printer for free. Along with that I got a free set of headphones and a mouse (they were out of stock for the mouse so I have to go back and get that). I bought MS Office at the same time. The laptop has a nice LED 15.5 inch screen and came with Windows 7. For anyone who has yet to experience Windows 7, it’s a nice operating system p sleek, fast and with some really cool features including slideshow backgrounds. I downloaded the cat theme available online.

The next update would be the long awaited arrival of the internet at my home. I opted to use Airtel as the provider, one of India’s most trusted providers (in some peoples’ opinions anyway). The installation was somewhat hectic but basically nothing goes smoothly or as planned in India – a phenomenon which I learned early in my days here. But after five days of ups and downs and a useless 6 meter network cable bought and set aside later, I have the internet downloading at a zippy 2 Mb/s which Airtel fulfils all the time – regardless of the time of day.

The New Year (2010) was greeted somewhat laconically as is my wont these days. I don’t really celebrate any of the so-called festivals and holidays with much aplomb – not even my own birthday which also passed with little remark this past year except for some pretties given to me y girlfriends at the office. Anyway, back to the birth of 2010. I went out for a dinner at Avani’s, the little South Indian restaurant which is just a minute’s walk from my house. I had onion dosa with chutney and sambhar and a side order of gobi Manchurian. The woman who recently moved into the flat above me stopped by to see if I wanted to take a walk, but I declined. I had a headache and wasn’t in such a good mood. She respected this and went out, planning on seeing the New Year on the road, I guess. I wandered home, a few New Year firecrackers booming already despite the hour being only 10:30 PM. In India, just about any festival merits the use of fireworks, that which Indians call “crackers” even if they are huge, colourful and make cacophonous noises. The sort of fireworks which they regularly blast off a few feet from my house on various special days, we in the US would never see except from the safety of the river bank while experts shoot them off on a raft in the middle of the water. But then, that’s India for you: while US is hell bent on keeping everyone safe and minimizing liability suits, Indians have a karmic view of all such proceedings and even if you got hurt and sued your neighbour for blasting a WMD firework onto your balcony, he could simply bribe the lawyers, doctors and the judge himself so most people quietly nurse their burned or blasted limbs and “ooh” and “aah” the fireworks.

My landlord saw me entering the gate to the house and invited me in for a drink with him and his wife. Though not feeling very sociable, one does have one’s obligations so I agreed and nursed a rum and Thumbs Up (India’s better version of Coke) and watched the various whoopings on the tv from around the world. The landlord and his wife asked after the lady upstairs who had gone for a walk. They were shocked to hear that she had an idea to go to Brigade Road, one of the big places in Bangalore where people crowd to bring in the New Year. Going there is not an advised action, especially for a foreigner. Things get rowdy, even riotous, and then the police come with their lathi sticks and maim party-goers with a few well placed whacks. Busses, cars, even shops might get burned. It’s not unusual for large crowds to get out of hand quickly in India. The landlord wanted to know why I had not warned the new woman in the flat above me. I shrugged. “Let her have her experience,” I said. Some people do not believe you and need to experience things on their own. In the end, the lady from the flat upstairs came home safely. As it was, a small uprising did take place on Brigade Road and police did lathi charge and probably broke a man’s nose while the true culprits of the rowdy slipped away after antagonizing a foreign woman (it was not the lady from the flat upstairs who will be referred to as LFTFU from now on).

The LFTFU also joined us for a drink. We were all so engrossed in talking about all the ways that India is unsafe and how to protect our arses from goondas, that we missed the coming of 2010. We soon left off after happy wishes all around and went our separate ways; I, for one, slept. I called my brother the next day, tried to contact my other brother and received many answers to the SMS I had sent out locally to friends and colleagues in India. 2010 for me had already started in terms of resolutions. The office I work for decided to give everyone in my team the holidays off because the engineers we work with also often take vacations at that time, business from the US and UK being low as well. So I started walking every day so that when I rejoined the office, I was ready for going to the gym 4 days of the week.

My other resolutions are to join Toastmasters International (done) and to work more on learning Kannada and German (slowly working on these). Otherwise, 4 days of the week I go to the gym and power walk on the treadmill for 1 hour while I read a book, always my favourite activity to make the painful minutes seem to go by faster. In my first week I lost 2 kilograms. Not bad but a bunch more to go of course.

So life is at a usual pace. Work gives its own unique stresses. I don’t stress too much over my personal life (or the acute lack of such as would be more accurate to say) because I don’t see a point in bringing myself down. So people don’t have time for me...they are wrapped in their own worries. I can respect that!

I hope to make many more posts and take lots more pictures especially for all my friends in the US who want to see how life looks like here. Thanks for my few faithful readers – now that I have a laptop and internet connection at home, I hope to entertain you a little more than before!

Employability Program Update

2009-12-23T06:50:00.002-06:00

I have some good news for folks still reading my blog (sorry I am so slow in updating the blog!).

One of the guys in the Employability Program which I volunteer for at the office has gotten a new job - a better job :-) Unfortunately this means he has left our program but he told me he feels the program helped him get the new job.

He is our second success story. The first was when one of the students passed his PUC exams with he help of our program and his mentor.

So maybe we help a little and we need to believe that the little is enough - at least it was for these two students :-)

Year Two Begins

2009-10-15T17:16:00.004-05:00

For the few who still come to my blog to read how life is, thanks and sorry I don't keep it up more. I will try to do better.

My contract has been renewed for another year so my dream comes true again and I have one more year in Bangalore, India. I have come to think of Bangalore as more of a home than the US ever was. I never realized it more until I came back to the US to get a new visa and to visit family/friends.

I forgot how complicated and different life in the US can be. I know that may sound odd especially to people who are not sure what life in India is like but who probably think it's pretty complicated and different. In fact, when asked by people, I usually tell them that the differences are so numerous it is hard to tell them all. But this is what I mean:

I brought around 900 USD to US to buy clothes, new shoes, chocolate and to help fund a trip to Kentucky to visit my sister. I needed around 210 USD for the new visa and bus trip as well. Before I knew it, my money was flowing away fast! I forgot how expensive everything is in the US and maybe more so than when I left because of the recession.
In order to get groceries, shop for clothes, see friends and family, I had to drive drive drive in the gas-guzzling cars on highways. I have become used to autorickshaws and living in an area of Bangalore that has everything I need to live within walking distance including a hospital.
I landed in the US at the start of the fall season and it seems fall and winter both will be hard, cold and bitter this year. I froze as soon as I left the plane! I have hardly stopped shivering yet! I forgot what it's like to have wind cut right through your layers, forgot what it's like to have to wear layers, and forgot that rain can be cold and yucky rather than warm and refreshing! My blood, after a year in Bangalore's lovely tropical climate, has thinned to the point that, if I had to spend the winter here, I would be miserable.
Interesting differences - Americans move in crowds very differently than their Indian counterparts. India is a crowded place where any given street may have large numbers of people vying for space with cars, autos, dogs, cows, lorries and buses in addition to the pushcarts and motorcycles. People have an instinctual ability to move through the mayhem without bumping into anyone or anything even though space is tight and passing distance between people and people and people and vehicles is sometimes mere inches. But Americans in a crowd expect a distance around themselves, a personal space - no public space allowed. I think that decreases in more crowded cities but Chicago and Peoria both seem to have a distance much greater than the Indian acceptable space. I found myself walking into people who would have moved away in India or being given evil looks by others because I invaded personal space.
Something I had always experienced before moving to India was the difficulty of getting real vegetarian food in America. At least in Peoria, my home town. Chicago has been a little better. But I also became very aware of how much Americans or maybe Westerners in general use gelatin in all kinds of food. Gelatin is often made of animal bones - a vegetarian would avoid such an ingredient. But it can be found in all sorts of common foods in US that don't have any other form of animal in them (except sometimes egg or milk products), including Jell-O, buttermilk and marshmallows. And with there being no law in the US that foods must be labeled non-vegetarian or vegetarian by use of a red or green dot on the packaging, a vegetarian is forced to either eat meagerly or scrutinize all labels like a scientist and hope all the strange words in ingredients are not somehow animal based! But in India where many of the population is anything from pure vegetarian to people who avoid beef or pork, there are always vegetarian options in restaurants, in stores and in the canteen. Things are clearly marked if they are veg or non-veg. You can eat without worry or guilt!
And last but not least - the lack of bustle and noise. In the US even in a busy city like Chicago, one hears traffic and sees traffic and people moving all over. But it's all strangely ordered and subdued compared to India's crowded streets where you can see something new and different every day. And except to show their dislike to a driver, hardly anyone honks compared to the cacophony of India's streets. No stray dogs, certainly no cows, no pushcarts hawking fresh cooked goods or fresh veggies and fruits, no tender coconut carts or guys selling DVDs on small tables. Everyone follows the rules. It's good I am sure - but borrrrrring :-D

So tomorrow I fly from Chicago back to the hustle and bustle I now happily call home. I will miss my family - especially brother Allan who I live with in US. I will miss my cats even though I have Squeeby waiting for me in India. I will miss the cleanliness of America. But I am ready to go back home!

Squeeby

2009-08-19T05:54:00.002-05:00

Every since I got my cat in January from a family living near my home, he has been a huge part of my personal life here in Bangalore. I got my first pet cat when I was maybe 4-5 years old – a tiny gray kitten which I named Raindrop. Ever since that time, I have never been more than a year of my life without at least one pet cat around. I have always loved cats for their independence, unique personalities, and extreme grace. So it was inevitable that I would adopt a cat while staying here in Bangalore.

At first I named him Velcro because in the first few weeks of his life with me, a 3 month old kitten from a big litter, he clung to me and climbed me as if I was a mobile tree. But I eventually decided to name him Squeeby. In the US, I had a tiny toy bear which an old woman had made and given me – she was the great grandmother of Adam, the boy in the US who I took care of and helped his father raise. Being so small and easily transported, this bear (whose name was Squeeby) traveled with me and other members of my family quite a bit. He lived in Kentucky with my sister for a while. He went to India with me in 2007 and played with friends’ kids. He went to various parks, to Chicago and even Texas with me. Just a fun time pass! But in 2008 before I moved to Bangalore, I lost Squeeby L So I thought to name the kitten Squeeby. Plus, I enjoy hearing people say that name hehehe.

Soon Squeeby proved to be a very fun cat. He liked to play rough which caused my friend Mini to nickname him Chewy. I was his favorite thing to chew on and he spent a lot of time trying to remove my elbows, fingers, toes and even my nose. All in good fun – as he got older, he learned to chew less and not as hard as he did in the beginning and this remains one of his favorite activities – mock eat Deanna.

I had a toy mouse from the US which I had brought for when I got a cat and my brother sent some more in a parcel. Squeeby loves these and will play for hours, flinging them into the air, catching them and batting them all over the house. He also loves plastic bags – the bigger the better – and will spend hours leaping into a bag, dragging toys into a bag and skating around on top of bags. There is very little he won’t play with actually. One of his favorite things to do is to hide from me and leap out when he thinks I haven’t seen him. The bed, walls, and behind furniture are his favorite places to hide. He usually stays rock still and only his eyes move – huge golden orbs framed in white as he follows my movements, waiting for what he thinks is the perfect attack moment. he also likes to get into the spin tub of my washing machine (when it’s empty of course) and peer out over the edge with only his ears and eyes showing.

He isn’t always a rascal though. He likes to sleep with me with his head on the pillow and his body stretched beside me for warmth. He follows me everywhere I go to be a part of what I might be doing including helping me wash dishes (he loves water more than any cat I have ever seen). He hates when I leave for the office. As soon as he hears my mobile ring telling me that the cab has come, he tries everything to make me not leave including sitting on top of my clothes or back pack! Every morning when he hears the cab drop me back home, he starts a cacophony of meows demanding that I hurry up the stairs and back in the house where he waits on the arm of the chair by the door. He lets me scoop him up for hugs and kisses and then twines around and around my legs as I try to walk across the room.

Mostly, he has been a living being waiting for me at home whenever loneliness might try to grab me and someone to take care of and enjoy life with. Studies all over the world show that pets help people in many ways from lowering blood pressure to teaching responsibility and altruism. Squeeby has been one of the best parts of my personal life here in Bangalore and I hope he is with me for a long time to come!

You can see him in the slideshow to the right of the screen.

Update 2 - Employability Program

2009-08-19T05:26:00.004-05:00

In January 2009 I joined a volunteer program at the office. Driven by a few dedicated people who also participate in a lot of community initiatives, this program was for the purpose of offering English, Math and Computer classes to the drivers, housekeeping staff, pantry staff and others who work in the office. A screening was organized to allow staff to step forward and express interest, tell why they wanted to enhance their knowledge and to test interest in the program. From the student side, over 50 people expressed interest. From the volunteer side, over 100 engineers, team managers, language staff and others stepped forward. I volunteered to be both a mentor for a student and to design material in English to be taught in the classes we set for Saturday afternoons.

Interest on both sides sort of dwindled as is common in these sorts of initiatives. Soon a core group of volunteers numbering around 10-12 were driving the program and a group of about 10-12 regular students attended the program.

The classes are ongoing. My role in the program has been to make content for the English classes with some input from fellow trainers from my team and the volunteers, to teach the English classes some Saturdays and to meet one of the students every day for an hour to reinforce concepts taught in the weekend classes.

This has all been a great learning experience for me as well as the other volunteers and students! Although I have had training in teaching English as a Second Language, this is my first time using what I was taught. There have been some rough times when something I thought would be achievable for the students turned out to be too hard for them to grasp or when I made a lesson plan that we could only get through half of because it took longer to teach the concept than I thought it would. The training style of the various volunteers was also hard to get used to – teaching is done differently by different cultures and of course by different people and sometimes I find the differences hard to adjust to when I am in the class. Sometimes students said they couldn’t understand my accent and I questioned whether it was so important that I teach classes or just gave content to the classes because most of these students will not get jobs where having to understand an American accent is an asset.

But in the end, I just adjust to these things and store the experiences because I hope to keep doing this work both here in our office program and in other venues. I have always loved teaching – the more innovative and complicated it has to be the better!

My experience with my mentee has been great also. He is a 28 year old supervisor for the housekeeping staff in the office where I work. He likes to take what he is taught home to his wife and younger brothers and sisters. Always respectful and hard working, he meets me for at least 3 days of the week to work on the computer, finish work assigned in the weekend classes or just talk in English so he gets more practice. I have seen his confidence in his fluency grow since the first days we met and hope he achieves his eventual goal which is to get a degree through an open university (study from home/written correspondence).

A couple local newspapers came to the classes and interviewed the head of the office where the volunteers and I work as well as us trainers and the students. The students were thrilled to have such attention and so were we – we hope that by showing other offices what we do with these guys, other offices will be inspired to start similar programs for their staff so that these guys and gals can attain better jobs and better futures.

Update 1

2009-07-31T17:20:00.000-05:00

Well, now that I finally have my Singapore trip documented (although I should have done it sooner because I am sure I forgot some good details!), I can catch any readers up on the latest news in my life. I don’t know how many readers I still have considering how I rarely post anything new. They probably got bored!

Maybe one of the biggest events that happened when I came back from Singapore was falling and being taken to the hospital in an ambulance, siren blaring and lights flashing. I was at the office in the lobby waiting for two co-workers to come down so we could all go for a walk. The shoes I was wearing slipped a lot on the polished stone floors that are all over the office especially in the reception and security areas. I was not being careful as I walked around waiting for my friends and suddenly I slipped, extending my leg too much and felt a burning pain in my right leg. That leg went out from under me like a felled tree and I fell….like a felled tree. Crash to the floor onto my butt! Within seconds the security guards who sit in the lobby were around me, asking me if I was all right and trying to assist me in getting up again.

Now, I have fallen many times in my 36 years. In fact, I have even named a few of my classic falling poses such as the Proposal Fall where one leg goes out from under me forcing me to kneel on one knee with the other leg extended behind me. There’s the Palm Pow – that’s when I feel myself falling, try to catch my balance and wind up landing on the palms of my hands, usually in sharp rocks or on a concrete sidewalk. But one action has always punctuated my falls through the years: as soon as I fall, I have always jumped back up as if nothing happened. I may limp away or stand dazed for a few seconds, but never before have I fallen and not been able to get back up.

This time, no matter how I tried, I couldn’t get up. Every time I tried, such a terrible pain took control of my right leg that I was convinced it was trying to dislocate! Even as I laid, moaning, struggling not to cry and gasping for breath from the pain, I felt the leg going numb between bursts of pain. By now my colleagues had come to the lobby and, much to their shock, found me lying on the floor surrounded by guards.

Within seconds, my colleagues called the boss and our lead and a passing engineer from one of my teams called the office doctor whose office was in a neighboring building. When the boss and lead came, they also tried to get me to rise but I simply couldn’t. In fact, my reaction to trying was violent enough that the boss started talking of getting the ambulance that sits in the perking lot to come and get me to the hospital. The boss had emergency training and didn’t like the way I couldn’t move that leg. The doctor arrived after a wait in which I tried valiantly several times to get up. My right leg just dragged behind me as I squirmed this way and that, trying to devise some way I could get up without using it. The doctor tried to get me to stand also. He felt I could go to the hospital but in a cab, not the ambulance. The boss decided against that. He got the ambulance to come, supervised the loading of my moaning person onto a stretcher and into the ambulance when it came.

I’d like to say that I was in a mind to store the once in a life time (I hope!) experience of being rushed through traffic in a speeding ambulance with its siren and lights at full emergency alert. But unfortunately I was simply too scared. I had no idea what was wrong with my leg. I didn’t have a good idea of what would be done with me when we reached Manipal Hospital, the closest hospital. And the driver, who must have thought my condition was a real life or death situation (bless his heart!), was driving like a bat out of hell and I was truly worried that we might have an accident on the way or, worse yet, cause someone else more injury by his rash driving.

When we reached the hospital and got into the ER, the doctors on staff quickly got the history and started assessing me. They decided an x-ray was the best place to start. My boss and lead stayed with me which I greatly appreciated, and someone from the company who hired me came to the hospital to start coordinating the paperwork and needed details for registration. I was given a pain shot, though I begged not to because the past pain shots I had received in the US hurt worse than the pain! But this shot didn’t hurt at all and in some time I was at least able to stand on my own, clutching the wheelchair they had provided and swaying dangerously like Aunt Mabel after too much Christmas nog.

The biggest debate now came to be if I should stay the night or go home. The x-rays showed no fractures were present. The general diagnosis was bruised and pulled muscles – from the slip in the lobby and from falling on the lobby floor. The trouble was that I could hardly walk without danger of falling again. I was against staying in the hospital because I had never stayed the night in a hospital except at the bedside of my sick parents. Aside from gruesome memories of such times, I didn’t want to face a long night alone in a strange hospital with people who might not understand my language or accent very well. The biggest specters of these cons was the gruesome memories and being alone. I knew I could manage the language barrier if it came up! But in the end I decided to stay because the chances of falling at home again with only the cat to help me was too real.

So I spent my first night in a hospital! All in all it was a good stay. I had a nice room with a view of a school below where monkeys played on the roof the next morning. The TV had clear cable. The food was hot and tasty. The staff was friendly and nice. The company man helped me discharge the next day, and I went home with a noticeable limp and drunken sway, pain meds if needed and instructions to take it easy for some time. I wound up taking three more days off work. At first when I went back to work, I avoided the stairs and walked as slowly as a dead snail stuck in a snow bank. After about one month, I was able to walk normally. Now I am back to running up and down the stairs between floors in the office and, except for some stiffness in that leg sometimes, I am back to normal.

I am very grateful to my lead and boss, my colleagues, my engineer numerous security staff who helped me in this emergency. I also have a good respect for the hospital where I was treated promptly and professionally. But just as Singapore was a vacation I will never forget, this “trip” was one I will never forget either!

The Best Vacation Ever Part 4 (Finale)

2009-07-31T16:27:00.000-05:00

Singapore is well-known for being a tourists’ haven and I think in my seven days there, I did nearly all the things tourists do!

I visited the Science Centre and spent nearly an entire day wandering through three stories of exhibits for every branch of science imaginable. Being designed for kids, nearly every exhibit was interactive in some way. I saw a movie in the IMAX theatre about a man who climbed in the Swiss Alps. I played games in the computer section and learned about optical illusions in art which I had never even known about. There was a Tesla coil which I managed to see being demonstrated. When they increased its power to the highest, that contraption made such a noise that it could be heard all over the Centre! They used the energy it released to burst balloons filled with helium as thin tongues of lightning dashed from the coil. Very exciting! I cannot name all the fun things I did at the Centre before Ganu SMSed me to tell me to come home because we were all going to go to the Singapore Flyer when Lilli was done at work. There was even a MacDonald’s there and I had my first taste of Milo – a chocolate energy/vitamin drink sold either hot or cold throughout Singapore like US sells milk on the restaurant menu.

I got a little lost coming back to the condo but it was ok. One of Ganu’s friends was visiting when I came – one of his closest friends. I was glad that on this visit I was meeting some of the people who Ganu had told me about and who I knew were important people in his life. We walked across the highway on one of the many walkways that stand over the busy roads in Singapore and took the bus and train to where Lilli would meet us. When we were out, Lilli, Ganu and I often had either Indian food or Subway. All three of us are vegetarians and this was one way we could be sure we weren’t getting any meat. Though the many Chinese places we passed smelled good, none of us trusted even what looked like only vegetables!

The Singapore Flyer turned out to be a giant observation wheel – a Ferris wheel on steroids – which is situated on the waterfront downtown Singapore. We were lucky enough to have a capsule almost to ourselves (there was another couple in it also but they were more into each other than the view or us) though they can seat up to 28 in a capsule. Because it was a weeknight, there was no line and no waiting. The wheel started up and at first, sitting in the dim capsule surrounded by the Singapore night sky and blur of lights from the busy downtown districts, it hardly seemed like we were moving at all. Then slowly I became aware that we were inching our way higher and higher until downtown shrank below us, the ocean spread for miles and the sky above seemed close enough to touch the feet of God. Ganu pointed out various famous buildings in the down town area as well as the huge casino being built and we oriented ourselves to see the far far blur of lights which was Malaysia and Indonesia. Hard to believe but we could see two other countries (at least) from that great height! Then we were slowly inching back down. It was an amazing experience! We browsed the gift shop and I bought a mug with the sights of Singapore depicted on it.

I also spent a day at the Jurong Bird Park, several hundred acres of land dedicated to nothing but birds. It was also amazing! There were birds from all over the world, nearly all comfortably housed in habitats as close to their natives as possible. There was a penguin house even! That was the closest I had ever been to big penguins, all grooming and flapping around in their cold home. There was a huge section for parrots – all the from simple small grey ones to the huge colorful macaws. There were more hornbills there than I even knew existed, many with their mates walled into nests as she sat on their eggs. The lories enclosure was exquisite! There were layered walkways over a jungle and high overhead and down the sides a mesh stretched to keep the hundreds of colorful lories inside the enclosure, free to sit even on your head if they wanted to. You could buy glasses of water and bits of bread to feed the lories and there were many school kids there doing just that. But when they grew tired of holding the bread or glass, they just passed it to the nearest person and ran off. I was handed many soggy bits of bread, sharing their fun. Lories flocked over, squawking and cocking their heads at me with little caution and more cheek before snipping off chunks of bread. I even saw a roseate spoonbill there at the park – a bird I have dreamed to see all my life because of its unique bill, shaped like a spoon as it is so aptly named which it uses to shovel water and muck into its mouth, filtering out non-edibles and snacking on whatever is left which it eats. I saw it only from a distance but I was happy. There was one house full of scarlet ibises and a huge lake where flamingoes rubbed wings with storks and cranes and ducks, geese and beautiful black swans swam serenely. I loved every minute at that park though I got thoroughly lost on the bus coming back from there.

Luckily, I got off and flagged a taxi who, with a little trouble while reading a map, was able to bring me safely back to Ganu’s condo. Considering how new I was to the whole place, I think getting lost only two times on the mass transit was acceptable! One evening I followed Ganu’s directions to a Hindu temple. The temple was well crowded with a wedding in procession. A beautiful Ganesha graced one alcove and I felt at peace. The smell of incense was heavy – the smell of temples seems the same no matter where I go. The temples in the US also smelled of that – agarbathi and sandalwood, jasmine and tulsi. I also passed a huge Sikh temple, its grey walls somewhat foreboding but protective somehow.

One night Lilli, Ganu and I went to see the Night Safari. That is held in and near parts of the Singapore Zoo. We saw tribal dances first and then sat in an outdoor arena where some zookeepers explained various ways people can help maintain a cleaner environment. They showcased some cute nocturnal critters who demonstrated how to recycle: three trained otters separated aluminum cans, plastic and paper and threw them into recycling bins. The show also featured other animals including a huge wolf and a snake which the zookeepers had hidden in a wooden seat among the audience. The best part of the Night Safari in my opinion was the flying squirrel enclosure. I had never before seen a real flying squirrel and the experience was memorable. Besides being a lot bigger than I imagined they would be, their flights over our heads were a sight to behold! The way they swayed and bobbled before taking flight was an indication of how carefully they planned their landing. Then, effortlessly they would launch and spread the flaps of skin running between their legs along their sides and sail to a point as far as 10 feet away. We also saw the elephants including one huge bull by itself in a big enclosure and a giraffe and rhinos. Poor Lilli, tired from a long day at work, fell asleep on the tram we took back to the exit. A light rain had started to fall but this didn’t stop us from getting some ice cream before heading home. One thing I had noticed – it was nearly impossible for Ganu or Lilli to pass ice cream without getting some hehehe.

One day we took a duckboat tour and I got a good look at the merlion, Singapore’s mascot. He is a cross between a merman and a lion. He can be seen all over Singapore in slogans, merchandise, clothes and sports. Downtown Singapore by the water has a huge merlion fountain. The duckboat was an amphibious vehicle – able to travel both on roads and in the water. We piled on one and were toured through some of the famous downtown streets to see buildings and monuments before taking to the water to see the merlion, the huge Formula One race track and stadium, the casino in progress and the sight of the Singapore skyline including the Singapore flyer, looming high above.

We all went to the Singapore Zoo where we saw an exhibit on preserving the rainforest as well as many different animals. We spent a long time watching the huge baboon enclosure where whole troops played and lounged around where we could watch and be entertained. We watched a few youngsters play for a long time on a rocky ledge not far from the main troop. There were kangaroos and wallabies in an Australian exhibit and white tigers. We saw the elephants as well though their show was rained out. They were to put on a show demonstrating the jobs they can do when taught. The rain stopped the main show but they still made an appearance where they waded into the river that surrounded their enclosure and munched on the fruit their keepers threw in for them to find.

One whole day we spent at Sentosa, Singapore’s best tourist spot according to many and I would be inclined to believe them. From the start it was exciting because instead of taking a bus or train to the island, we took a cable car to the island. I was scared to death almost! We were miles in the sky high above the water in this tiny cable car. Of course it was a bit windy and a storm seemed to brewing so that when we passed over the trees before we crossed the water I was reminded of scenes from Jurassic park – I half expected a T-rex to poke its teethy head through the trees and snap at us! But as scary as it was, it was a lot of fun! We no sooner reached Sentosa when a torrential downpour emptied on us! We scurried for the Underwater World and it was a lovely place to spend a storm! I saw many things there which I didn’t think I would ever see including a dugong which had been rescued in the harbor and nursed to health. There was a moving walkway that took us through an aquarium which spanned over our heads as well as around us on the sides. Huge fish including manta rays swam back and forth. There was even a black eel looking very scary indeed, hiding in the rocks. There was an octopus! I had never seen a real live octopus in all my life but there it was, huger than I ever expected, undulating in the water with some of its tentacles stuck firmly to the inside of its tank. We missed some of the shows on the island outside because of the rain storm or we might have seen the dolphin show and I could have added dolphins to the list of animals I have never seen before alive and real before my eyes. We did see the laser and fireworks show (Songs of the Sea). The show used streams of water to accentuate the laser beams for an unforgettable affect over the harbor which included at one point the construction of a woman’s face high in the sky. Then, to cap off the night, Lilli and Ganu convinced me to take the Luge Ride! We reached the top of the 600+ km long track via another cable ride. But this time we were all a little more alarmed because this cable car wasn’t enclosed, went much higher and swung around like crazy while our feet dangled higher over the park. To be honest I was sure something would snap and we would plunge to the ground far below even if hidden by the pitch black of night! That cable car ride made the enclosed cable car ride seem like a walk in the park! To make it even more scary, once we reached the top, we had to get out of the car while it was still moving, preferably without falling on our faces! Somehow we made it, helmets in hand or on head and were directed to the waiting luges. A cross between a sled and a gocart, the instructors assigned us each a luge and briefly explained how to use them. Basically, one’s weight is the momentum to propel the luge down the 600+ km track. With braking controlled with your hands tilting or pulling the steering wheel, you can simply sit back and whiz down hill, swerving around the curves and obstacles strewn on the track to make life more interesting. Did I mention that weight can play an important role in how fast you whiz??? Though I was the most scared to try the luge, once we set off, I seemingly became the most eager to go! I took off like a cannon ball! I yanked back on the steering so hard I was relieved it didn’t pop off in my hands like one sees in the cartoons but this only slowed my descent fractionally! Despite my fear, I have to admit that once I reached the bottom and was safely off that thing, I had a lot of fun! Before leaving for the night we took a good look at the huge merlion building. Encrusted with lights that make it look like a star chart, this merlion is tourable – you can take an elevator or the stairs high inside him and then stand in his mouth to look out over Sentosa. Unfortunately, he was closed but we still got some good snaps of him and admired him from the outside. Sentosa Island was wonderful. I did things there I never would have dreamed of doing and saw creatures and shows I never thought I would. The cable car ride back to the mainland seemed quiet after the luge ride and a storm was again brewing, forking great licks of lightning over the water and the city. We were all tired that night when we finally got home!

We didn’t eat out much in Singapore but some places we did go were very tasty. We had Indian food a few times including a nice buffet called Bombay Café Express in a mall downtown and a South Indian restaurant called Lukshmi Naarsimhan where we had delicious South Indian filtered coffee. Lilli and Ganu eat often at a very nice Indian buffet called Annalakshmi where all the food is vegetarian and the staff new them by sight! We even went to a pure veg Chinese restaurant where all the food was vegetables mixed with soy products that somehow had a meat flavor without being meat! One night we went to a few of Singapore’s top night stops including the Raffles Hotel which gave birth to Singapore’s famous drink – the Singapore Sling. I tried this drink and found it to be nice. Though I am not much of a bar and lounge person, I really enjoyed this part of my visit to Singapore.

Before I knew it, I had to leave. The best vacation of my life was over! But I was comforted by one wonderful thought as I was boarding the airplane back to Bangalore: Lilli and Ganu are great friends with whom I felt very comfortable and they had strongly encouraged me to come back. Singapore is just a few hours’ flight away from Bangalore! I can have a mini vacation whenever Lilli and Ganu are free and ready to endure my company!

Best Vacation Ever Part 3

2009-07-27T17:54:00.002-05:00

When we got back to Singapore, it was evening. We were tired but not so tired! We went home (after I filled out yet another immigration card. I had filled one out when I left Bangalore, when I entered Singapore, when I left Singapore for Indonesia, when I entered Indonesia and another when I returned to Singapore!) to Ganu’s condo to drop all of our things and then took the same cab that brought us from the ferry wharf to an Indian restaurant in Little India.

I had already been told by that friendly cab driver that Singapore had a Little India and a China Town. The Chinese make up the biggest percentage of Singapore’s population, followed by the Malay and then Indians (mostly Tamilians from Tamil Nadu and Punjabis I guess) and finally the littlest population is foreigners from all over including the US. Tamil is one of the country’s official languages along with Chinese and Malay. Nearly every where you can see these three languages plus English written on signs. The restaurant we went to had tasty food. We ordered food for all of us to share. They had one dish on the menu called bhendi Jaipuri and I wanted to try that. In the office, they made that dish and I really enjoy it even though I know it’s not good for me because its very spicy and oily. But the dish this place served was not anything like the one that they serve at the office. It was also good but creamier than fried and spicy. I have yet to learn was real bhendi Jaipuri tastes like and I think I will have to go to Jaipur just to know for sure! We enjoyed the meal and then headed for Mustafa’s.

In Singapore, Mustafa’s seems to be the big Indian store if not the big Asian market for fruits, vegetables, spices and any thing else an Indian might want when far from home except his own mother cooking for him. We went to get some dosa mix and fruits. I got some dragon fruit because I had been told about this fruit and wanted to try it. We walked from Mustafa to a nearby bus stand and Ganu started to explain the bus system to me. He had already given me a transit card good for rides on the busses and the trains. Singapore’s mass transit is automated – all you have to do is scan your transit card when you get on the bus or before going onto the train platform and scan it again when you get off and the amount of the journey is automatically deducted from the card.

When we got home, I settled my things in the room where I would be staying. I had not had a chance to unpack before we went off to Indonesia. I also did some laundry. Ganu and Lilli went to sleep while I checked my mails and played some games.

The next day, after more of Ganu’s piping hot ginger tea, Lilli went to work and Ganu and I waited for the rain to stop so we could go out. He wanted to show me the big shopping area in Singapore, Orchard Street, and the botanical gardens. When the rain stopped, we went off to catch the bus and went to the Subways at the train station for a sandwich and more tea. We went by train to Orchard Street and there were indeed many many malls and shops, all declaring their wares with bright signs and colors. I am not much of a shopper though and I didn’t want to go in anywhere. So, though it was still drizzling a little, we walked to the botanical gardens.

Having worked in a botanical garden in the US and managed a park for a few years as well, I always like to see a city’s botanical garden. The fact that I think I wasted two years of my life in college learning about plants when I probably should have been working on a teaching degree has not dimmed my love for plants. I grew up caring for plants on my family’s many garden plots and will never forget that, though we planted many vegetables to supplement our diets when money was too scarce to buy groceries, my mother always made sure that each of us, including my dad, picked a flower to grow in some place around our vegetable gardens. Mine was always the petunia. My oldest brother Allan chose nasturtiums (he said you could make a salad out of the flowers so it served a purpose as beauty and food). My sister Lisa always planted cosmos in purple, orange and yellow. Brother Brian grew pansies which were one of the hardest to grow because they were very delicate and, if planted too soon, could die in the cold or grow up weak. My brother Kevin chose impatiens or maybe we chose them for him: he was always impatient as a child and we thought it a funny flower for an impatient boy. Dad chose snapdragons and some years his flowers flourished wonderfully and we would pick off the blooms of red, yellow, or pink and learned from him how to hold the lower part of the flower very carefully and squeeze, making the lower half fall open like the jaw of a dragon. Then we would chase each other around the yard with our dragons, roaring and “breathing fire”. Mom always planted morning glories. Morning glory seeds had to be soaked before being planted to encourage the plant to germinate. Then she would plant them near a pole where the vines could be trained to climb and when they bloomed their wide flowers of pink, blue, white and purple in the early light of morning, hummingbird moths came to pollinate them. In addition to our individual flower beds, we always grew hedges of marigolds along the public footpaths and the private footpaths. Sometimes we grew zinnias and bachelors’ buttons too. And along the back fence along the laundry yard where we all hung laundry, we had a hedge of pale blooming peonies.

But I digress. The main point is that no matter where I am, if the place has a botanical garden, I am drawn to it! This was a nice garden – lovely really. Ganu and I walked around most of the gardens, down wide lanes over which towered various old specimens of native trees including banyans and frangipani. There was a garden dedicated to the frangipani – beautifully landscaped paths with these fragrant flowering trees strategically placed. The rain and wind had brought many blossoms to the ground and the scent from them all was wonderful. I picked some up and put one behind my ear. Ganu teased me! In India anyway, a flower worn behind the year usually means you’re a fool, I guess! Women in India wear flowers in their hair. When we came to the orchid house, Ganu stayed outside because he had already been in it once and I went on in.

The orchid house was amazing! They had designed a habitat as close to the orchids’ natural one as possible. As I walked through the sections of the house, I forgot I was even in a house! Waterfalls splashed from the heights over rocks to racing pools and eddies way below wooden walkways. Orchids, bromeliads and other tropical plants grew all over, bright licks of color amidst the green foliage. Mists billowed from hidden spouts and the smell of the cool air was crisp and sweet. I wanted to stay forever and imagine I was in the tropical rainforest!

When I emerged, I was shocked at how hot and humid the outside air was! I rejoined Ganu and, after a brief look at the gift store which had nice but expensive stuff, we decided to get tea and snacks at one of the few restaurants in the gardens.

We had a nice chat over tea and coffee in a cool dining room. Then we headed home. Lilli joined us later and we enjoyed a quiet night before we all slept. Singapore was turning out to be a lot of fun!

Best Vacation Ever Part 2

2009-05-26T18:11:00.002-05:00

The resort where Ganu had booked our condo has various levels of accommodations. There are rooms right near the beach but these are like hotel rooms. There are condos farther from the beach but still within walking distance. These vary in sizes from 2-3 bedrooms to more bedrooms, swimming pools and larger shared areas for larger groups. The condo we had was a 2 bedroom condo with a big dining area, a sitting area with table, couches and a TV and a nice kitchen wherein they had provided basic cooking vessels and utensils, dishes to eat and drink from and a microwave, toaster, tea and coffee maker and stove/fridge. You could order groceries delivered to the condo or shop in a little general store near the beach. Breakfast was provided free every day of the stay in a restaurant in the main resort building and there were a variety of other restaurants in the resort building including an Italian one and a Japanese one.

We had brought dosa mix from Singapore as well as fruits, bread and jam so we were set. The condo comes with a battery operated golf buggy which Ganu enjoyed the most. He tested its limits too! It came in handy to get quickly from the condo to the beach and back and a protection when it rained. The resort took us via a bigger buggy to the condo and showed us the ins and outs. Ganu and Lilli stayed in the master bedroom. It looked spacious and nice with a TV and attached bath and shower. I stayed in the second bedroom, a nice room with a big wardrobe. My bath was on the hall. Each room, from the kitchen to the bedrooms had its own controllable AC unit. We settled our things, explored everything in and out (there was a patio with a BBQ but we are all vegetarians so we didn’t use that), and ate dosa and fruit salad before setting out to see what there was to do.

The resort had many activities to choose from. They host water sports, nature events and have an indoor game room for billiards, snooker, cards, and so on. We looked over the big shopping area in the main building, selling various souvenirs and clothes as well as snacks. We checked out the general store but the prices were high. We had ice cream in the sandwich counter located near the resort lobby.

We decided the various things we each wanted to do. I don’t know how to swim and didn’t want to try the water sports. The nature things sounded nicer – a trip to the mangroves and an elephant park. Ganu and Lilli liked the water sports and swimming. We all liked the beach. So our time was spent individually or as groups, enjoying as we liked. The day we chose to go to the mangrove tour and water sports (myself going to the tour) it dawned very grey, wet and windy. In the night a storm had come up and we had slept to the tune of thunder and rain – lovely too.

When I woke, Ganu and Lilli were just returning. They had been out early, driving all over the area, into the golf course nearby. They had found many beautiful spots in the golf course. They asked me to come see these too and get some pictures before we went to breakfast. So I hopped into the buggy and off we went. All was going well – the sights were very nice, landscaped, lakes, rolling greens and flowering trees. We stopped now and then for some pictures. Then a worker told us we should not be on the golf course unless we were golfing and he directed us on which way we should leave. Well, something went wrong, a wrong turn or something. Before we knew it, we seemed even further away and every hill we tried to ride up, the buggy was going slower and slower – the battery was dying! Even I started to feel like I would die because I was certain the buggy’s struggle and fast dying battery were due to my weight on the back of the buggy! Before long, Lilli and I both got off. The buggy was barely moving at all now whether it was on or off a hill. We decided that Ganu should drive the buggy back to the condo, Lilli and I would walk to the exit of the course and we would head for breakfast. Well, we got directions from a passing golfer, Ganu went off on the buggy and Lilli and I started walking. Of course, it began to drizzle. It was very humid and I for one was sweating on top of the rain. There were many hills as well and while these had seemed tough even in the buggy, while walking they were tougher! But we chatted as we walked and soon we saw Ganu far off, walking back from the condo towards us. We also saw that we were near the exit – the 18th hole and the clubhouse. Encouraged, we soon met Ganu on the street and went to breakfast. I was hot, sweaty wet and uncomfortable – but I let it bother me for only a while! I was on vacation afterall! We all had a good laugh about out golf course adventure and later found out that the battery had not been properly charging and that is why it had died in the course. My fat butt was not the main cause!

We hung around the condo waiting to see if the weather would clear and in the end we all went on the mangrove tour.

The resort took us by van to the mangrove forest entrance. From there we put on life jackets, clambered into a motor boat and started off. Our guide was a friendly fellow, perched in the front of the boat and telling jokes as he showed us the sights. The mangrove trees grew thick along the banks of the lake and he showed us various stops along the tour. There was a fisherman’s hut where he said a ghost was said to live. There was the remains of a native village and he explained how tourism had changed the lives of natives. He showed us some abandoned ships which he said were left after one of the world wars – he actually asked if any of us wanted to buy them! He claimed that his brother lived wild in the mangrove forest and might be seen in the trees if we looked hard enough – just for a laugh! We did see a couple of snakes, some butterflies, birds and were told of some of the fruits and trees we passed. It was an enjoyable hour or so and the storm had completely cleared away so that the sun was bright, the sky clear and the wind cool.

When we got back, Lilli wanted to swim. Lilli is a very dedicated swimmer and swims every day. She also climbs mountains! She is very fit and active. She hopped into the big pool and Ganu also joined her. He is learning to swim and took a few laps while Lilli went back and forth across the pool, dodging the families playing in the water. All around us people were swimming, laying beside the pool, reading and sipping drinks. There was a drink and snack shop nearby that had stools in the pool as well as the pool side so you could sit at the counter and eat or drink while sitting in the pool itself! Sometimes Ganu came and talked to me while I read my book and watched people.

When Lilli was done swimming, we went back to the condo to change and go out to eat. We chose the Italian place. They served some vegetarian dishes so we had these. It was very tasty and the ambiance was nice – dim and cozy while still overlooking the pool and gardens. We had more ice cream and then went down to the beach. I was adamant that we spend some time on the beach at night. The tide was high and there were flags marking how far to the ocean we should go. There were few people on the beach at that time – most were eating I am sure.

I love the beach at night. The crash of the waves, the water disappearing into the night sky so that you feel there is nothing but water over all the world but the beach you walk on. The sky stretches wide overhead and if you’re lucky, stars wink there or the moon shines. The beach, bearing footprints of the day’s merrymaking, now cools underfoot and little crabs scuttle away from you as you wander along the waves. I left Ganu and Lilli and walked far down the beach, enjoying the sounds and sight. I wrote my mother’s name in the sand and said a prayer for her, wherever she might be – all her life she wanted to see the beach and the ocean and was never able. So every time I get the fortune of being near the ocean, I write her name in the sand and say a prayer for her. When the tide comes stalking inland, the fingers of the ocean caress her name and carry her out to sea where she always wanted to be.

The next day was our last in this beautiful place. After breakfast and a rest, we headed to the beach. Ganu and Lilli wanted to do the water sports – wake boarding, snorkeling, kayaking etc. I wanted to walk on the beach, collect shells and play in the surf. I found plenty of nice shells but only collected 3. I even found sand dollars – small but nearly complete! There were tiny crabs inside nearly every spiral shell I found – I always threw them back into the ocean, unwilling to evict a crab even if his home was beautiful. Before long, Lilli and Ganu came back – the waves were too chopping to do most of the things they had wanted to do. So they went back to the condo to leave the camera (after a few nice snaps of the beach and ocean were taken) and then returned to swim in the breakers.

Even I had been getting braver and braver, walking farther and farther into the ocean. Of course I was far from the actual deep water but I was very brave! Never before had I dared to go as far into the breakers as I did this time! I went into the water all the way up to mid chest and when the waves came crashing in, often they went over my head! To be honest, I was very scared! My biggest fear was if I lost my balance, I might fall into water that was deep even if my feet still touched the bottom. I cannot swim, have no notion of the action and didn’t much thrill at the idea of a salt water drink! But I have become more stalwart these days. Many might say moving to India itself was a brave act I guess. But I wasn’t going to leave that beautiful ocean with its crashing waves under a perfect summer sky because I was afraid of a dunking! So out I ventured – not as far as Ganu and Lilli who went way out into the waves – but so far that I got completely drenched and had half a sand castle in my underwear (I don’t have a bathing suit and was in shorts and a top).

I have to confess that that 45 minutes or so that I spent in the waves were the best time I had ever had! I understand now why people swim there, surf, snorkel etc. There is something wonderful about surrendering yourself to this uncontrollable force of nature. The waves curled towards me, raced towards me, chased me it seemed and I loved bracing myself and letting them try to knock me over again and again. They tried hard too and once I did fall! I was filled with as much panic as salt water and staggered out of the receding water coughing and laughing – having experienced my worst fear, it wasn’t half as bad as I imagined.

But all too soon, we all had to get out of the lovely waves and head back to the condo. We showered, packed and ate the last of the dosa and fruit. We took last minute snaps of the condo and yard. Then checked out and took the bus back to the ferry dock. We had had the best time I could have imagined! Never had I experienced such carefree fun in my life. No worries over kids, schedules, money or time. Just abandoning myself to the experience. A true vacation.

As we headed back to Singapore on the ferry, I smiled – the best part was that I still had 7 more days to my vacation to be spent in Singapore!

Best Vacation Ever (Part 1)

2009-04-28T04:18:00.002-05:00

In April I had the best vacation of my life. I should say that in all my life, I have only had two other vacations. When I was in my mid twenties a friend and her daughter took Adam (a boy I was caring for at the time – anyone who knows me, knows Adam) and me to Florida to use her time share condo for 2 weeks (I think it was two weeks). I remember some good things about the trip: my first experience seeing the ocean (technically it was the Gulf of Mexico but it had huge waves and seemed like the ocean), the beach, the shell hunting, and the hurricane winds that came on the tail end of a hurricane that almost came to Florida when we were there. And the trip back was awesome too – stopping at Huntsville, Alabama at the space institute, seeing caves and seeing the Smoky Mountains. Then in 2007 after saving money and making careful plans for over two years, I spent two months in India. I guess that was a vacation even though I was hardly able to enjoy sights because I had very little money. Still, I managed to see some places in South India and meet lots of friends, have some experiences I will never forget and all of this helped land me where I am now – back in India for as long as India will have me.

So it was time for a good, fun, happy vacation – the sort people seem to have all the time but which have till now eluded me. In 2005 I met Ganu S. in a Yahoo chat room. Our friendship was at first good then a bit rocky but finally ironed out and we stayed in touch over the years, through several of his relationships with gals, through a few of my relationships with guys and through my moves and his MBA applications. We have a nice friendship wherein we can confess and confide anything and everything to each other and hardly ever regret it or if we regret it passes (he is always worried about his karma). We had talked over the years of meeting somehow but it didn’t seem possible. Although he had been to the US a few times, he was always too far from my state for me to get time off all my jobs or afford the fare to meet him. And I didn’t see how I’d ever get to Singapore which is where he lives. Although he is from India, he has lived in Singapore for some years where he has his own business. We finally decided that if I ever got the chance to come back to India, especially if I got the job there that I was searching for, then I would come visit him in Singapore and have a nice vacation at the same time.

We planned the vacation in April when I could use some of the holidays at the office plus weekends so that I used as few leave days as possible. I only get two leaves a month and I had been saving them since I had first started so that I’d be sure to have enough for this trip. Ganu is a planner as well and he had the whole vacation mapped out including how much money was needed. As the big day approached for me to leave, I got more and more excited. I had saved money for the trip, exchanged it for Singapore dollars, gotten some new clothes made and arranged for my friend Mini to watch the cat while I was gone for the 10 days I had taken off. I had gotten a lovely price for the airfare on an airline called Tiger Airways. I was assured by my travel agent that it was a nice airline even if it was economy. The flight was only four hours long. It was hot and the boy behind me kept kicking my seat. The pilot told us all the sights were we flying over but it was too dark to see anything. It was not a bad flight but it wasn’t great either and I was happy we landed. It was early morning in Singapore and it smelled clean and fresh – rain had fallen before we landed. The plan was for me to get a taxi and go to Ganu’s condo. He assured me that taxis were metered and honest here in Singapore (in India even metered ones can be driven around and around by shrewd drivers hoping to fool the passenger until the meter racks up double the fare it should be). I got my luggage and followed the signs to the taxi queue. A taxi quickly picked me up; I showed him Ganu’s address and away we went.

My first impression of Singapore was how beautiful it looked. The highway we zipped along was green on both sides with lush grass and landscaped regions bursting with blooming bushes and trees. There was little traffic and all vehicles stayed in their own lanes with no honking. I was suddenly seeing how much 6 months of living in India had conditioned me. In India we do see trees and bushes etc on the roadside on highways but usually it is not landscaped and trash is everywhere. There are plenty of cars and lorries and busses and bikes on the highways as well, all vying for a place on the narrow strips cutting through the countryside. Some of the Indian highways are really good compared to the city roads. But some are very bad and when driving on them, one is forced to swerve more than a blind drunk man to avoid the potholes, crevasses and debris that marks the way. And everyone honks. They honk to pass, they honk as they pass, they honk after they pass, they honk so someone else knows they can pass them – honk honk honk honk. All sorts of honks from the lorries and busses' musical cacophony to the cars’ simple beeps and tweets to the motorcycles’ toots. I love the lorry and bus horns – they sound like modern mastodons of the asphalt, trumpeting their superiority and dominance over the metal masses seething on the highway. For as long as I live, I think I will close my eyes and hear their calls as they surge through the herd, dodging for no car and leaping ahead down the dusty road for destinations unknown.

My driver was a friendly guy. He spoke English well even if with a heavy accent which he was concerned about. He asked me if I was able to understand him. He said he had been to US for a number of years where he worked in some industry which he and his co-workers from Singapore finally realized they themselves could run in Singapore without living in US. So they quit and came back to Singapore. It was unclear why he was now driving a cab instead of working that business but the chat was pleasant and time passed quickly. I used his mobile to call Ganu and let him know we were almost there so that when we pulled into the parking lot of the condo, he was waiting for me at the door. He was exactly as his pictures showed – long straight hair, thin but fit and a big friendly smile. We hugged immediately; I for one was happy to finally meet someone who is very dear to me in a way that is hard for me to explain. We grabbed my bags and went up the elevator to his condo.

My first impression of the condo was wow! It had a big balcony overlooking the river, highways and other condos springing to the sky all around. But the view was nice even if a bit industrial and there were birds singing. The sky was a lovely shade of pale blue and there were flowering bushes in the parking lot surrounding the condo far below (Ganu lives on the 14th floor). Otherwise, the interior of the condo was bright and spacious, Ganu not given to gathering many things, with a marble table and stools in one corner where the computer was, a small TV in another corner and a table in the center of the living room. He showed me my room – a small room off a dim hallway – where his pooja was done and where his dad apparently sleeps when he visits. The room had its own ac unit above the door and Ganu’s girlfriend Lilli had brought an air mattress for me to sleep on. It looked comfortable and had a nice view as well out a big window.

Speaking of Lilli, I soon met her. She was a lovely woman, all smiles and dimples. Down to earth and fast to hug me as well, she made me feel instantly comfortable and at home. We had ginger tea and talked for a while before we got ready to leave. The plan was for us all to pack our stuff for a 3 day trip to Indonesia to the resort island of Bintan which was just 45 minutes from Singapore by ferry. Ganu had booked a 2 bedroom condo near the beach. We packed our various things including dosa batter and fresh fruit and took a taxi to the ferry dock. We got our tickets and waited for the ferry to come. My only other experience with ferries comes from Cochin where the government ferry chugs slowly from island to island around Cochin. It’s an open ferry, meaning without windows, sits low in the water, burping oil and exhaust into the sea. It is not a bad way to travel (except for that pollution) and very cheap. But the ferry we waited to board was completely different. This ferry was huge and seated at least 200 people with 2 decks. It was glassed in and air conditioned. There was even a snack counter on board. We chose three seats at the side so we could see the passing sights and settled in for a 45 minute ride. We passed the time with many a good joke and laughter – we all three have good humor!

At Bintan we waited in line for our visas. Singapore and the US are two of the countries that Indonesia allows to get visas on arrival rather than applying through an embassy. Each seven day visa cost 10 USD and was good for one entry only. They pasted mine in my passport near my India visa and, once all our passports were duly stamped and out luggage dutifully checked, we found our bus going to Bintan Resorts. The ride there in the crowded bus was also nice – we drove through lush forest areas where there were interesting wooden carvings of native animals towering up suddenly on the roadside. When we arrived at the resort a troupe of young people dressed in traditional clothing greeted us with a dance and music played on drums, flutes and tambourines. They actually seemed happy to see all of us as we trooped off the bus, not as if they did it for every bus that arrived but as if they were doing it all specially for our bus. We unladed the luggage, sorted ours out of the mass that soon spilled all over the sidewalk and went inside. There we found that the condo we had booked wouldn’t be ready for another hour or two. So we went to the swimming pool.

While Lilli and Ganu swam in the huge blue pool, I rolled up my pant legs, stowed my shoes and socks on a rock and went to the ocean. For as long as I live, I will love standing by the ocean. Though it probably sounds cliché, I love the timelessness of the ocean. Since first land was coaxed from the watery depths, these waves have been heaving to shore as if pining for the land it gave birth to and to stand by those waves is to be living inside a timeless romance between the land and water. The moon urges the water in its longing – sending it far onto land before sending it back again in the long history of tides. The land surrenders itself to the waves bit by bit only to have its sacrifice returned when the tide surges the sand back to the shore. Of all the sounds on this earth, for me there is none as poignant and beautiful as the song of the sea. I walked a long time in the wet hot sand, not wanting to get too wet, before I went back to the pool to see if our condo was ready.

Cochin Trip Part 2

2009-03-20T22:10:00.000-05:00

I went back to the hotel and showered before my friend Nelson came to see me. Nelson is a young guy who works in a lawyer’s firm in Cochin and stays in a hostel not far from my hotel. We have not known each other for a long time but we still were looking forward to meeting. He came up to my room and we chatted for some time before we decided to order some food from the restaurant in the lobby. We ate and talked well into the wee hours of the morning. I was concerned that he wouldn’t get an auto to take him home if it got too late but he assured me he would. Sure enough, when he decided to leave, I watched him in the street from my room window and he was able to catch an auto and off he went.

I stood some time looking at the silent city, sleeping and dark. I was remembering my first stay in this city and hotel with someone I thought loved me and someone I had loved. But I came back here partially to reduce the sentimentality of such memories so I shrugged them off and went to bed!

I had planned to get up early and head for the ferry and off to Cherai Beach on Saturday morning but I had not had much sleep for over a day so I slept soundly and lazily until 12 noon! I woke, bathed and packed some things including the camera and headed out for some food before going to the ferry. Near the hotel there is a small vegetarian restaurant. In fact, its name is New Vegetarian Restaurant. When it was new I don’t know – by this day and age, it looks very used and old but they have very good food for low prices. You can get a full South Indian lunch for 20 rupees and they keep serving you the food until you tell them to stop – all for 20 rupees. So, after a full tray of rice distributed over sambhar, curry, rasam and bean curry, I headed for the ferry.

Since I had been in Cochin last, they had built a new building for buying tickets. That is a good thing – before the line for the ticket counter was out doors and anyone waiting there when it rained would get soaked! I know because it happened to me last time I was in Cochin! I waited in line for my ticket and soon had a small paper chit in hand, waiting for the ferry to leave. A couple was in line with me and we struck up a conversation. They were a married couple from Bangalore as it turned out and we spent a lot of time together before we went our separate ways.
They took a liking to me and asked me to join them. Her name was Vani and they insisted I go with them to a restaurant for lunch and drinks once we landed on the island. We had food and drinks and talk and then exchanged numbers before they went to get information on Alleppey and I went to find an auto to the beach.

I found a row of autos and drivers waiting for me! All crying, “Madam, madam! Cherai Beach???” I soon found that haggling a price was out of the question. None of them wanted to undercut the other. I calculated the rate of fuel per km and realized that the price they had set was accurate. So I took the most polite of the crowd and we set off through the streets for the beach. It was by now some 5:45 PM. My main goal was to be on the beach when the sun set.

Riding in many Indian cities is not an activity for the weak of heart. It’s a heart stopping adventure in Cochin. In Bangalore the autos and bikes dual with the busses and cars regularly but in a laid back manner compared to autos in Cochin. In Cochin, the autos play Chicken with the busses and lorries that come from the other side of the traffic. Like many Indian cities, the roads are narrow and traffic spills into the lanes of opposing traffic. My auto driver held his space until the last second, racing towards a bus or lorry, horn blaring while his face was as cool as a cucumber. At the last second he or the bus would server – usually him because he could move faster – and then he would race off again. I am fortunately strong of heart and used to this game so I sat calmly and watched the passing shops.

When we reached the beach I asked the driver when the sun would set. He said it would set in half an hour and agreed to wait for me and take me back to the ferry after the sun had set. He dropped me near a resort that allows public access to the beach and I wandered off. I was thrilled to be at the beach – my main goal for traveling 13 hours on a hot train!

The Arabian Sea is beautiful. The sand is whitish tan and stretched for what seemed like miles, a contrast to the grey and blue sea which rolled and heaved beside the shore. The sun was already making a dive for the water when I arrived. I rolled up my pant legs and headed into the surf as the waves rolled onto the beach and crashed back again. I loved it!!! I walked and walked until there were few people and took pictures of the sunset. I walked in the surf and played with the sand. I discovered little crabs the color of the sand scuttling around me and tried to take snaps of them. I called my brother Kevin on my mobile so he could hear the sound of the waves. I stood for a long time in the waves, feeling the heave of the tide, the drag of the Earth’s gravity and the agelessness I always feel beside the sea or ocean. Then I headed back for the auto.

My driver was still waiting, mainly because I hadn’t paid him, and we headed back for the ferry, the drive more harrowing this time because darkness fell quickly and many were driving on the road without headlights! He dropped me by the ferry landing and by luck a ferry had just arrived. I landed back on Cochin and went back to my hotel. A quick bath and dinner in the restaurant and I was ready for Nelson to visit again. He came but didn’t stay as long. He left and I slept peacefully, waking early the next morning.

Sunday morning I went out, had breakfast at the vegetarian restaurant and took a walk down MG Road, remembering places my friend and I had seen in 2007. I found the shop under whose awning we had sheltered when a sudden storm had found us out with no umbrella. But in the end I turned my back on it all and headed back to the hotel to pay for my room and check out. That friend and I are no longer friends and he hurt me a lot. So farewell to those memories! I checked out, caught an auto and landed at the train station for the long ride back to Bangalore.

This time my train compartment was full. Several college guys crowded onto the seats and one station out from Cochin, an elderly lady took over one corner of the compartment with more bags and boxes than a bride. She proceeded to set these all over the place so that neither one of us had enough room to move our feet. In India, touching someone with your foot is not polite so every time one of accidentally touched the other with our foot, we had to apologize to each other by touching our foreheads. We did it so many times that I think we both got a headache!

Finally we reached Bangalore. I found an auto, too tired to care if he tried to over charge me, and headed home. I stopped on Krishna Temple Road to refill my mobile at the shop I always go to and walked down to Avani’s, the nice new restaurant near my home for a plate of veg biryani. When I reached home, the kitten was so happy to see me! My friend Mini and the neighbor had been feeding him but he was happy his mom was back! I was happy to be back! It was a great trip but I was glad to be back home!

Cochin Trip Part 1

2009-03-20T20:48:00.001-05:00

The week of February 6th, I took my first travel trip since I came to India in October 2008. Several things have caused me to wander less then I had hoped to be during my stay in India. We only get two leave days a month at work and that includes any day we might be sick. I have a few big trips planned (Singapore in April, Orissa in August and Delhi somewhere in there also) and that requires the careful hoarding of leave days. I have been fortunate enough to have been ill only once to the point of needing time off. Even then, I took only a half day of leave. Add to this the fact that I work nights. By the time I leave office Friday, it’s Saturday morning. Flights somewhere are more feasible with that schedule than the train or many busses if I want to travel far from Bangalore. But flights are more expensive and the airport is nearly 60 kms from my home and taxis are expensive also. So a trip has to be closer to Bangalore if I want to enjoy a weekend away without taking any leave day. Holidays are fewer than I thought they would be mostly because the office doesn’t observe all the fests and holidays that local businesses do because the office serves a global clientele, many of whom wouldn’t know Holi from a hole in the ground. So, to summarize, travel takes careful planning, release of a leave day and release of hard earned money.

But in the first week of February, I took a day off and spent the money needed to take a train to Cochin, located along the coast of the South Indian state of Kerala. When I was in India in 2007, I spent nearly a week in Cochin. It is a hot and humid city but I liked it. I became accustomed to the locality in which I stayed – a street over from MG Road and not far from the sea and the boat jetty. I wanted to stay in the same hotel I had used in 2007 and go to Cherai Beach, a stretch of beach along the Arabian Sea.

The train ride was as I remember India train rides to be when you take sleeper class seat. Sleeper class is one of the cheapest fares on the train. The seats you sit on can be converted into cots to sleep on in the event of overnight journeys or if you just want to rest. I was very tired as I started my trip. I came straight from office to home, took a bath and completed last minutes packing and jumped right into my taxi. We got to the train station about 30 minutes early – that was fine by me because I needed to find my train among the many tracks running into Bangalore City Railway, the hub of Bangalore’s interstate and intercity transport. Both busses and trains converge and leave from this locality at all hours of the day and night. Adding to the mayhem are the prepay auto and taxi stands inside the station and the crowds of autos and taxis waiting for fares outside the station and of course, crowds and crowds of people ranging from old men and women, business men, children and families, to the occasional tourist.

However, I soon found that the station had upgraded a lot since I had last been there. Digital signs kindly pointed the locality of the tracks for each departing and incoming train. The crowds at that hour of morning (5:30 AM) were not bad. I easily found my train and then found my coach. I waited until the last minute to board: the trip was about 11 hours long and I knew most of it would be spent sitting on a thin, hard seat – why resign to that torment before I had to? When I boarded, I met with some confusion. The trains generally have the seat names posted above the seats on a embossed metal tag affixed to the wall. My berth had metal tags as well as hand written numbers on the wall which did not match the metal numbers! All of us in that coach were milling about in confusion, trying to decide which number to go by – the metal ones or the written ones. Most of us settled for the metal ones, me included. I was happy – mine was a single seat by the window! However, by the time the train had started on its way and the conductor came to collect our tickets, most of us were instructed to shift seats and follow the written numbers instead of the metal tags. This included me and my new seat was an aisle seat in a line of 3 shared by an older business man and a young upstart, both of whom compared manes the entire trip until one got out at Erode in Tamil Nadu! Both thought himself more traveled than the other and more experienced, and I endured hours of their (probably) exaggerated exploits while I tried to find a comfortable way to sleep sitting up.

By the time we had passed out of Karnataka and into the state of Tamil Nadu, the wind had become hotter and the sun seemingly brighter. Time passed in sleeper class tends to be an endless monotony for me. Most of the other passengers seem to prefer staring over talking, either because they doubt their English skills for a good conversation or they simply don’t know how to talk to a foreigner. The heat can be colossal when trapped in a metal box surrounded by hot bodies. One conserves on water because too much water drunk means too many trips to the toilets which are usually Indian style toilets consisting of a concave metal basin with two footrests on either side of a hole which empties directly onto the tracks flashing below as the train hurtles through the countryside. You wash with tepid water which you pray is clean and gingerly avoid dribbling things on yourself as you bob about in the small closed room that houses this toilet. Using a stationery Indian style toilet can be an adventure for many who are not used to it; add speed, velocity and mysterious puddles in inconvenient places on the floor and your adventure bumps up a notch closer to survival. The best solution is to drink less water!

Enough said of the ride. I really don’t mind Indian train rides that much but am thinking of traveling second class AC next time or any higher class than sleeper if it’s not an overnight journey. I like conversation on a long trip, I like cleaner toilets and I don’t much like sharing my coffee and snacks with the coterie of cockroaches which apparently live on the train 24/7. We arrived in Cochin on time and disembarked in a fairly orderly manner. Cochin Station was cleaner but more confusing. I may have missed exit signs among the crowds and the numerous signs declaring goods for sale in or around the station, but I don’t think I did. Following the mass exodus seemed a cautiously good idea – some of the crowd might simply be shifting trains for an onward journey. Eventually I did find the exit. The prepay auto stand was directly across from the exit and I immediately joined the queue, trying to understand what was expected of me by watching the others who came and went before me. Like most queues in India, this one was only a line in name, not in nature. I aggressively fought for my place and didn’t allow anyone to horn in before I reached the little hole through which you speak and hand over money to the men inside.

Malayalam is the mother tongue of the state of Kerala and is hard to understand for even Indians who do not speak it. I was prepared for the confusions this may bring as well as Keralites having trouble understanding my accent. When I had stayed in the hotel in 2007, I had saved a napkin from the restaurant in the lobby. That napkin had the hotel’s name and address clearly written. When I finally battled my way to the hole in the window, I handed the napkin through to the man. He pondered it from all angles. He asked me if I knew any landmark near it. I pointed to the words “near MG Road” and mentioned the huge Kalyan Silk showroom which is across from the hotel. He still seemed dubious but took a rupee service fee, wrote out a receipt declaring the ride to the hotel as costing 20 rupees and I escaped the queue to find the auto rickshaw I was supposed to take.

My driver immediately asked me where I was going as I settled into his auto. I handed him the napkin. He also pondered it carefully. Kerala has the highest literacy rate in India including in English (or so I have been told) so I didn’t think his hesitation came from an inability to read. He also asked for landmarks. I mentioned the silk showroom. He looked at me blankly. I realized he couldn’t understand my accent because everyone surely knows the Kalyan Silk showroom. It’s a 4 or 6 floor building sporting huge windows displaying beautiful swaths of cloth for saris, salwar kameez and so forth. It’s one of the biggest Kalyan showrooms in India I guess! As the driver started out, I searched my bag for paper and pencil and carefully wrote the showroom name. I showed it to him and he cheered up considerable: I had been right. He couldn’t understand my accent, could read perfectly and now knew exactly where he was going. We arrived in less that 10 minutes.

The Hotel Mareena is a 4 story building that was once listed online as a 2 star hotel, popular with tourists and Indians alike. It is only one street from MG Road (all major Indian cities must have an MG Road, the MG standing for Mahatma Gandhi, a man instrumental in helping India gain its freedom from Britain among other notable things) which has many shops and businesses on it. It is also very near the boat jetty where one can catch the ferry for a mere 2 rupees to any of the nearby islands. When I had stayed here in 2007, I had been happy with the hotel for everything – good room service, clean spacious room, nice staff, tasty food in the restaurant and very near to everything a traveler might need.

Unfortunately my stay in the Mareena this time was not as nice! First, the clerk at the front desk informed me that there were no rooms left that were NOT air conditioned. I usually steer clear of a/c even in India. There are frequently huge powerful ceiling fans in Indian homes and hotels. When these are turned on, even the hottest room turns cooler and it’s easier to acclimate to the outside heat of you are not in a/c. Cochin is a very hot and humid city and everyone seems to want an a/c room so I was really surprised when he said there weren’t non-a/c rooms available. I suspect he was lying so he could get more money from the foreigner! But I decided not to argue, paid a deposit and was shown up to my room.

I relaxed for a few minutes, happy to have everything I had planned so far fall into place. I washed my face and set out into the city to see if everything I recalled from my 2007 visit was still in my memory. Sure enough, I knew exactly where I was and where I needed to go! First thing I did was go to the juice stall across from the hotel and get a papaya shake. Here it is common to have fresh juice, lassi and shake stalls on the street. They cut the fruit in front of you, add milk, sometimes ice cream and blend it. They pour it into a real glass glass and you drink it sitting at the chairs they provide or standing up. Once you’re done, you hand over the empty glass and the money and walk away. They wash and reuse the glass. I like these stalls if I know they are kept clean because they have very little waste.

Next I went for a walk towards where I remembered the ferry landing to be. Sure enough, I soon saw the park where my friend and I had walked and found the old man on the road side selling aloe vera and other herbs. As I crossed the street and turned into the small lane that leads to the ferry landing, I found the old woman on the corner who roasts peanuts and channa and sells them in small parcels for 5 rupees. She almost seemed to remember me, smiling up at me as I bought two parcels of warm roasted peanuts. I walked to the coffee house nearby and had cold coffee and sweet lime water as well as some tomato sandwiches. It was dark by the time I left the coffee shop and one friend from Cochin was impatiently waiting for me to come back to the hotel so he could meet me. So I headed back to the hotel, happy I remembered where everything was that I needed for my trip to the beach the next day.

New Life

2009-01-10T21:47:00.003-06:00

I have not been very happy these days. Work is harder than I imagined. As I mentioned in the last entry, working nights has been very hard to adjust to. I have no social life. I have found out that when your work and your social life are in the low, it's hard to feel happiness on any level.

But last night I made a choice while walking along 100 Foot Road for my evening weekend walk, dodging rickshaws on the road and motorcycles on the sidewalks. I decided once and for all to stop living life for others and live for myself. Too many times I have tried on that shirt but found some reason to discard it for the old dirty torn ones that seem to think I need the approval of others to better my body, to learn and grow, that seem to think in order to accept myself I need to be accepted by others. Clearly I have had the shirt inside out and I pray this time I wear it the right way. Because I cannot go on living in such a low mental and emotional state. It will defeat the purpose for which I spread my wings and flew.

So, in a symbolic mood, I stayed up all night cleaning my house. That's right - in four more hours I will have been up for 24 hours straight. Of course I didn't mean to stay up so late but it happened that way. On the way home from my walk last night I decided to finally purchase a dvd/cd/mp3 player and got a nice one for about 155 USD. It came with 5 speakers and a subwoofer! So by the time the sun rose on my clean house I had also set up my new player and music is back in my life!!!

Velcro the kitten is growing. His personality remains naughty and nice by turns and he determines the turns. His favorite activity is attacking my feet when I am asleep followed by his second favorite activity - launching himself from the back of the couch to my chest in a span of 3 feet as if he thinks he can fly or defy gravity. He continues to act as if he is starving all the time and screams so loudly when I am in the kitchen that I have to lock him out when I cook. The past 2 days his eyes have been weeping, almost as if he has an infection or an allergy. Except for sleeping a little more than usual, he doesn't seem to be feeling down even though his eyes are bothering him, especially the left one. I am keeping tabs on him - if need be I will try to find a vet nearby who understands enough English. I am hoping this situation will resolve itself.

This morning, to seal my new determination, after bathing I went to the local temple. I think I should go more often. Usually when we look at God we see ourselves as we really are and that will help keep me in line with my goal. On the way home I wandered down some new streets I had not been on before but still managed to find my way to 100 Foot Road and back towards home. While walking down the street which has become narrowed at that end due to construction for the metro railway the city has been putting in for nearly two years now, I became aware of a constant fast jingling noise. It sounded like the anklets made of bells which children and women often wear here only much louder and the jangling was so fast it sounded like whoever was wearing the anklets was running. I was looking around me trying to find the source of this noise and was just about to look behind me when a long legged shadow fell over me and quickly passed me by. It was a camel! The camel was the source of the noise, its bridle and reins decorated with many bells, and its rider was keeping it at a fast trot so that it passed me quickly, leaving behind stares and points from even the neighborhood people. It was such an awesome sight! In Bangalore, in the city anyway, camels are not an everyday sight!

Well time to get a little sleep I think. I still have things to do today so I don't want to sleep through the day or continue forward without at least a little sleep! Sleep deprivation while walking on Indian streets can be detrimental to one's health!

Please pray that I can keep my resolve to live life for myself. It's imperative to breaking the slump into which I find I have fallen. One more note and an important one too! This coming Friday my dear friend Mini is coming from Kolkata to stay with me for a week! I am very excited and hope she enjoys her stay. It will be hard to visit because of work and sleep timings but I will do my best to enjoy as much time with her as possible!

Updates

2008-12-28T09:45:00.000-06:00

Hey readers, what few I suppose there are actually still reading this. My last entry was over 1 month ago on the morning of the attacks in Mumbai. We still see reports on the news about the investigations and damages being repaired from those attacks. Other than sporadic heightened security measures at the office, things here in Bangalore have returned the same and various friends in Mumbai have told me the same is true of that city. But anyone paying attention to any news has also probably heard that Pakistan is moving troops around and some people are nervous about that.

On to personal stuff. My first Christmas away from family has come and gone. I worked at the office until nearly 7 AM Christmas day. When I came out of the office, there was thick silver-white fog blanketing everything. It was lovely! I slept as soon as I came home because a friend from the office was supposed to come and see my new kitten.

That’s right folks, I got myself a kitten for Christmas. Actually I wanted a kitten as soon as I was settled. In fact, I bought a package of cat toys in the US and packed them in anticipation that I would get a pet when I was ready. My friend from Cambridge Road was babysitting her daughter’s two kittens and said she would arrange with her daughter to get me one. So last weekend we met up on 100 Feet Road near my house and walked into one of the neighborhoods where a family was living in a small stone hut among other stone huts. This family had a litter of kittens and had already given my friend’s daughter kittens. While Ramya, my friend’s daughter, spoke to the wife of the family, I picked my pet from the remaining kittens. I wanted to give some money to the family who was trying hard to care for all the kittens so I gave 100 rupees (about 2 USD). I am sure they were able to buy some food or pay some bill with that and I felt better than if I had simply taken the kitten. The wife told Ramya that they wanted me to bring my kitten back when he was grown up so they could see him again.

Ramya lead me back to 100 Feet Road and found a rickshaw driver willing to take me and my box of mewing kitten home. I had already shopped and found kitten food, a sand box and cat litter and dishes for food and water. I made a little bed in the bottom shelf of the closet by the spare room and this is where I tucked him as soon as he was home. He had fleas and was dirty but I let him run around his new home for a while before I tormented him with a bath. He took his bath in more stride than I imagined he would! When I was done, I wrapped him in a towel and cuddled him under a blanket as we watched TV.

Over the next few days I got a better shampoo, one made with neem leaves, and bathed him again so that he could start sleeping with me at night. He is almost 2 months old and is orange with stripes and golden eyes. He talks a lot – follows me everywhere and mews loudly. He likes people food better than the kitten food and has a weakness for yogurt which I know is not good but when his belly is full of yogurt, he mews less! He is very playful and has no fear: he flings himself off the couch and leaps onto the bed as if he thinks he can fly. His favorite tricks are to attack my feet if they move even an inch. Sometimes his games are very annoying, especially in the mornings when I am trying to squeeze as much sleep out of my alarm clock as I can.

I am not sure what to name the kitten. I often call him Velcro because he clings to me. He climbs me like a tree if I sit at the table and sits on my shoulder like a fuzzy parrot. But I have found that many Indians have no idea what Velcro is. Maybe there is an Indian brand of the same material. I have certainly seen Velcro here on clothes, shows and bags so I know they have it here. Anyway, Velcro is the name I might settle with.

Aside from the kitten, there is nothing new in my life. I work, sleep, try to make myself leave the comfy bed to go for walks because I have put on a little more weight due to not exercising enough, and I watch TV, practice Kannada and once in a while meet with friends. One friend took me to a library. Libraries here a bit different. You have to have a membership but it’s not free to borrow a book like it is in the US. Instead, whatever book you borrow, you have to pay a percentage of the actual cost of the book so that you can borrow it. That’s still cheaper than buying books so I won’t complain. However, the library is far from my house by rickshaw. It’s not as far if I walk but I am not sure the best route yet.

So, not much more to update. Life goes on. Kitten makes things more interesting and exciting! I have gotten more used to the neighborhood and take walks all around. I have almost every thing I need right in my neighborhood – groceries, fruit, vegetables, medicine, ATM, etc etc. I am enjoying the wonderfully cool weather here. It feels like fall in the US only the days are hotter than they would be in US if it was fall. My Christmas was boring but relaxed, no gifts but my kitten – even the office didn’t give anything. I have no plans for the New Year except to make a goal as I have for the past many new years: lose weight. I think I should stop trying to lose weight and just gain slim! I basically have no social life. Most of the friends who said they would be so happy if I came to Bangalore to live have disappeared – they don’t even contact me. It’s hard to make new friends when you work at night. I work harder now than I did in US working 3 jobs. Working night shift messes with your mind so that you want to sleep more than you might have ever slept had you worked days.

Anyway – I have been here only 3 months. Let’s see how things go as I strive harder to travel and meet new people and lose weight in 2009.

Breaking News

2008-11-26T16:35:00.002-06:00

For my US readers who may not be familiar with India geography, the recent attacks in Mumbai are not near me. They are in the neighboring state of Maharashtra to the west of my state. So far all is normal in Bangalore. News varies about the attacks in Mumbai which is the capital of the state of Maharashtra and the financial hub of India. Some say 80 have been killed and 200 other injuried with 20 or more hostages being held in an historical and old hotel called the Taj. Other reports say other things and even as I write this, police and army are trying to storm the hotel to remove the hostages and the threat. There were as many as 12 attacks around the city but again news may vary. Tomorrow more will be known I am sure!

Please say a prayer for those injured and the families of the both the victims and the hostages of yet another senseless terrorist act.

A Trip to the Country

2008-11-16T02:45:00.003-06:00

Saturday I had a nice outing to the countryside. Muni is a contractor who has a business in exterior and interior construction and he invited me to see a house he is building in the countryside behind Nandi Hills. Over 50 kms from Bangalore City, Nandi Hills is a favorite get away spot for people from the city and for surrounding communities. I have been to the top of the hill last time I was here and liked it a lot. Nandi Hill is actually part of the Western Ghats which run through parts of the state of Karnataka. The drive to the site was hectic with a lot of traffic on the outer ring road which we traveled but once we arrived at the site I was reminded of any rural place in anywhere cool breezes, the sun overhead, birds calling and workers calling, butterflies in the fields and the lowing of cattle.

The workers all greeted Muni when we arrived and walked up the lane to the construction area. He didn't seem to want to introduce me to anyone or show me the buildings that were being built so I left him alone to speak to his workers and went around the grounds exploring. I took several pictures of the buildings and the ghats that surrounded the area, including Nandi Hill. I watched the birds including some lovely parrots, and several butterflies who wouldn't sit still for their picture! I tried to befriend the child of a worker in the field beside the site but he just stared at me wide-eyed...maybe I was the first white person he had ever seen.

When I eventually made my way back to where Muni was he told me I should not have walked around so much because there are snakes in the grasses. I already knew that and also it is not as if I never been in places snakes are...I was cautious. It's hard to do anything with Muni without somehow doing something he doesn't approve of. I actually anticipate bothering him with something I do and even with the things I don't do - it always seems to be that way with him. I really like him as a friend but sometimes our level of communication is so bad even though he speaks excellent English - he just doesn't communicate hardly anything to me except his disapproval over things I do which he thinks I should not because - I don't know why!!!!!!! Anyway, after telling me about the snakes I already was aware of, he advised me to sit down in a chair one worker had cleaned for me. Knowing that I might be waiting around a lot, I had packed a book and also my Kannada textbook and notebook for practicing. I settled at a table on the porch with my Kannada book and relaxed, practiced my Kannada and watched the workers an parrots. I enjoyed the peace of the country, far from the honking horns and roaring buses.

Then Muni said we had to go. I packed up and we got back into the car. Two workers came with us for the drive back to the city and before long we were again in the surging mass of cars, bikes, buses, lorries and people. I wondered if Muni would drop the workers somewhere and maybe he and I would be able to talk - we had hardly exchanged more than 300 words the whole day. But soon I realized he was driving into my area. He dropped me on the sidewalk a street from my home and took off. I was faintly confused and disappointed. Not with the day but with him...friends should talk, shouldn't they? I sort of felt he was disappointed in me as a companion for the day. I sent him a text message thanking him for the good day but he didn't answer it.

Soon after coming home we had another power cut. My landlord gave me the electricity bill - 162 rupees or around 3.6o USD. To my American readers this will sound downright miraculous. Even I am glad. I am constantly shutting off lights here. I never keep the microwave running unless I am using it - I don't want to be charged to keep a digital display running. And with India being one of the countries in the world with the biggest load shedding troubles, I am glad to say that I do little to contribute to the consumption in this city. I went to sleep rather early - I have early office timings for 3 of the 5 work days this coming because of intercultural training. So I allowed myself to fall asleep early so that Monday's early start will be less of a shock. I woke in the early morning to the pleasant sound of rain falling and knew there would be puddles in the morning!

An Engagement

2008-11-09T12:42:00.003-06:00

Today I found myself at an engagement party. I almost stayed inside all day but forced myself out with the intention of going to Cambridge Road, buying some notebooks from the Cambridge Book House which is run by a patient and kind old man who always smiles to see me because he knows I am learning Kannada, and to see Sumathi and Jay. I got lost on the way and stopped to ask directions from some customers buying limes from a street stall. As luck would have it, one customer - a young lady - lives in Cambridge Layout and she invited me to come her way and she directed me the rest of the way after she parted ways to finish her shopping. I carried on as per her directions and was soon walking up Cambridge Road in my old area. I don't think I will ever get tired of that neighborhood where I spent my first 3 weeks in India. I got so used to the shops and temples and schools, the places where the footpath moves under your feet and where the cows wander on the side streets.

I found Cambridge Book House and got my books then continued on to Sumathi and Jay's house. There I was greeted with the usual smiles and happiness - their house has always been and continues to be a place I feel comfortable and wanted - and tea. They remarked on my weight lose (10 pounds or 4.5 kilos) since coming to India. They asked all my latest news and listened intently - I asked all of their news, how their kids are etc. Then they asked me would I be interested in coming to their nephew's engagement party?

Well, most who know me know how adamantly against marriage I have become. I guess it's partially comes from stupidly loving someone who opted to marry someone he didn't know, didn't love and didn't want to marry at all except that it would please his mother and be the right and proper thing to do even if he claimed he loved me. It's from meeting countless frustrated, unhappy married people who confess that if given a choice, they would never have married. It's from seeing children born into such unhappy marriages, adding to the burdens the overpopulation of the world already places on the struggling earth. And it comes from rebelling against anything that seems to be done with little real consideration, driven along like cattle, like herd beasts, simply doing what is done because everyone else does it even if they cannot explain why they do it except that it is expected.

But what can I do and certainly everyone is allowed their own choices in life. Just because I am told I am going against nature and a freak because I choose to not marry is no reason to tell others they are making the single biggest mistake of their short lives :-D And I was looking forward to seeing any part of a Hindu wedding ceremony...pictures I have seen of friends' weddings and engagements show a lot of tired, unsmiling tense faces dressed in contrastingly bright and happy finery.

It was a small affair - mostly family from both sides which in India can still be a houseful of people from cousins and aunts and uncles and nieces and nephews and all the in-laws of the same. There was much music, orchestrated by the elders who gestured to the band in the back of the hall as they sat on the raised stage where the couple was sitting and engaging in various rituals with the priests and relatives. Many kids ran all over playing and everyone was talking so loudly I had no idea what was happening on the stage. As Sumathi explained it, the ritual was for the bride and groom and their respective immediate family - the rest of us in the room didn't matter that much so why shouldn't we visit and play and enjoy ourselves? Afterwards we went to the dining hall.

In such traditional situations, food is served on long narrow tables with people seated on one side only. Servers placed a long narrow paper down all the tables and then placed a banana leaf (I think it is called vazhaillai) in front of each diner as well as a glass filled with water. The first thing to do is sprinkle some of the water on the banana leaf and wash the leaf, draining the water off to the side. Then the servers come down the table and serve small portions of a wide variety of foods, from sweets to rice, daal, pickle, pappad and so on. This meal also was served with a puffed pastry which they pour sugar into the center of and then follow that up with an elachi and spiced milk...you crush the pastry puff into the milk and let it soak then eat the sweet yummy mass. All the food was good and tasty and incredibly filling considering the small portions you get - the idea is how many things you are served in small portions! I walked away very full and satisfied with both the food and the experience.

Jay and Sumathi and Jay's mother drove me home afterwards and I was very happy they had taken me. I got out of the house and they included me in their family which is always a great feeling. Monday I have a meeting at work which will decide if I do more training or start coaching my teams of engineers. I hope I am given the green flag so I can start doing what I came here to do.

Some Lessons Learned

2008-11-09T10:45:00.006-06:00

Since my last entry here very little has happened really. Life in India is the same as life everywhere in that we work, we sleep, we eat, we sit, we wonder, we worry, we cry, we feel lonely, we smile, we feel happy etc etc etc. Some days I confess I struggle to leave the house and walk on the streets because I constantly get stared at. This must be something of what a celebrity feels like. Only I think a celebrity would be greeted far more cordially than a foreigner sometimes is on India's streets. See, in this culture it is not considered rude to stare so all that stuff my mother used to drill into my head from small childhood onward about not staring is useless here. The fact that my skin is pink and my body fat seems to bring more stares than average as well as quite a few snickers, finger pointing, friend nudging and other generally embarrassing actions by the people I encounter on my walks. Actually, I faced some of these things last year when I was here. I think it is only harder some days now because work and such adds some stress to life and when you are in a low mood who wants to be pointed and laughed at??? Still, I force myself to go out...I am living here now and I need to get used to these things.

I had one experience which was a little frustrating. I was told by my company that they would deposit my paycheck by Monday morning so on Tuesday I girded myself for the stares and set off for a shopping place called Big Bazaar where friends had told me I could get house linens and kitchen things cheaply. The walk was not that far but was on a road called Old Madras Road. I had walked on the other end of this road once before on my way to visit Sumathi and Jay, my friends who own the homestay where I was at last time I was in Blore. This end of Old Madras Road which I was on this time was considerably worse. First there was no footpath, no sidewalk. The road itself was where I had to walk which normally I might anyway as roads tend to be smoother than footpaths in India cities. But Old Madras Road is very pitted and rough with piles of seemingly abandoned rocks and sand, maybe there for future or past construction projects, because there are many new buildings being built along this part of Old Madras Road. There were a number of other people walking and the traffic quite busy at times...I waded through the sea of people, the crowds of motorcycles and the pits and piles of rocks as well as the occasional dead dog and finally reached Big Bazaar.

I found good prices on new sheets, blankets, pillows and other linens needed to get my spare room ready for visitors as well as some really cute heart and smiley face place mats which reminded me so much of my mom that I had to get them even though they will look very out of place in my dining room! All in all, I had about 3000 rupees worth (67.00 USD) but when I went through the checkout, my debit card was declined. It seems there was not enough money in my account! I asked the store to set aside my things and called my company. Well, instead of depositing the check Monday as they said, they had taken it to the bank only that morning (Tuesday). It takes about 1 day for the money to reach my account. I see, I said and what did they suggest I do with all my purchases I had made, thinking they had deposited my check? Their suggestion was to go to the bank and ask the bank to rush deposit the money.

So I found an auto rickshaw, went to the bank and asked the driver to wait. I checked my account balance - sure enough it was low. I went inside. The same lady who had grudgingly helped me activate my debit card a few days earlier greeted me with rolled eyes. "What now?" she demanded. I had no idea what I had done to deserve such a tone or such expressions. But I ignored that and plunged ahead, explaining to her my troubles. She demanded information from me which I could not give - check numbers and what bank the check was drafted from and on and on. When I floundered she informed me that I should not come to her counter so ill informed. And that seemed to be that.

Again I called the company, got more information from them regarding the check and again confronted the rude lady. But she was on the phone chewing someone out for giving her an improper routing number. She guided another worker to help me inbetween snarls and soon my check was located. They said my money should be available within 20 minutes and advised me to not allow such needs to arise again for rush deposits. I left the bank relieved they would do something about my situation and convinced I never wanted to see that woman again. I had no idea what would make her so rude to me...I cannot remember anything I did last time to merit such behavior.

I took the rickshaw back to Big Bazaar. I waited 45 minutes, well aware that 20 minutes means usually twice as long. I got directions to a nearby ATM (more plodding along the busy dusty road) and was happy to be able to withdraw the amount needed. I waited in line again and a woman patiently checked all my things again. Finally I was on my way. What should have taken 1 hour at the most wound up taking 3 hours, 240 rupees in cheating rickshaws and much embarrassment. But that is life.

In the end I did have what I needed and learned some important lessons:

1) Never believe your company when they say that they will deposit anything - before you shop, check your account
2) Rickshaw drivers instantly know when you're in a hurry...your need for speed is in direct proportion to their lack of understanding English (Put the meter please is apparently very hard to understand even if you thump the meter vigorously) and their proverbial lack of change.
3)Dont even think something will take 1 hour when it can clearly be done in 3 or even 5
and lastly, Big Bazaar is a great place to shop!

Birthday Blasts

2008-10-29T05:40:00.005-05:00

My birthday went by nicely. A friend brought over cake and lunch as well as a cute gift of a peacock made with shells - the peacock is India's national bird. Then when I went to office, all my co-workers wished me and made me feel at home. I was very touched by every one's efforts. I received many phone calls and text messages from friends here in India including a call from my thambis (younger brothers) Nalin and Nitin who managed to call on the stroke of midnight almost, being the first people to officially wish me, followed by my friend Sharad in Delhi! I feel so blessed to have so many friends and adopted family members around me here! Even friends from the US emailed me to wish me :-)

The fireworks and firecrackers have continued from Sunday onwards with Monday being the loudest day and night so far. Which was another nice way to celebrate my birthday. See, even though India officially uses the Gregorian calendar for official and government dates and business, the Hindus follow a lunar calendar which causes holidays to all on different dates every year according to the lunar cycles. Some might say that Deepavali was on 27th or 28th and even the North of India celebrates it on a different day. Plus the holiday itself spans more than one day. So here, Monday was the loudest and busiest day for fun it seemed - crackers started bursting as early as 5 AM and going well into the night. Tuesday and today, Wednesday, were much more tame although I saw some wonderful fireworks over the city from the office cafeteria. The office cafeteria has one part which is open to the air on the sides and its nice when it rains or a nice breeze comes through. Anyway, the blasts on my birthday were nice - it seemed like the whole city was celebrating with me!

I am now coming down with a cold! The nights here are cool - by South India standards you could even say cold. As I am acclimating to the climate, even I find the nights chilly and need a thicker blanket. That's just one of the things I have planned for purchase when I get paid at the end of the month! I also want a few things for my kitchen so cooking will be easier. I am still thinking about getting a cat for a pet. I miss being greeted by a cute fuzzy cat for cuddles when I come home to an empty house. I am only worried what I would do with it if I had to move back to the US. Taking it with me would be very hard and no one hardly keeps pet cats here in India. Letting it roam out would be cruel if I had kept it tamed inside for some time - it would have no idea how to survive on the streets. So I may get one or I may not. Let's see. Otherwise, I hope to fix up the spare room for when I have guests come and spend some time. Right now its pretty bare and I only use it to dry my laundry! So you can see I am excited for my first paycheck!

Well I am off - a friend is coming to play cards and then I hope to see some fireworks tonight - after tonight Diwali is basically over so its tonight or next year for me to see fireworks!

War or Celebration???

2008-10-26T09:24:00.010-05:00

As I sit in the little computer office beside my flat, the night outside is inundated by explosions and screams. The cloudy sky above the buildings is lit by bright flashes. Booms and rapid fire crackling reverberates all over the city. Are we at war??? Shouldn't such emergencies be on the evening news...even the world news???

No, it's not war...it's Deepavali!!! Deepavali, also called Diwali, is one of the biggest celebrations in India. Celebrated differently in different parts of India, it shares certain things with all Indians, regardless of where they live: good food, firecrackers and diyas, family and rituals. This festival is also called the Festival of Light and the hundreds of diyas (lamps) lit on Diwali night and the bursting of fireworks are part of bringing light into the darkness. For more details, visit this link and see the links on that page to see how Diwali is celebrated and what the different rituals are for each day of this great fest: http://www.festivalsofindia.in/diwali/.

So another weekend passes and I can count three of these now in Bangalore. Once I have money to spend (after payday), I will start planning weekend travels to places away from the city. There are plenty of places that I could visit if I timed the transport correctly. As well, each month we get two days of leave time which can carry over from month to month. After 10 days accumulated, the company makes you take a vacation! I don't plan to accumulate so many. I think it would be good to keep a few because whenever you have to call in sick,the time is taken from your leave days! But using a couple a month, if allowed, I can plan a 4 day weekend somewhere even further from Bangalore. I want to see my friend in Kolkata but she is having some illness in the family so I have Kerala in my sights for places to go and unwind.

This weekend was full also. Saturday a friend came and we had lunch at a restaurant down the road called simply Sue's Food Place. Like many restaurants in a growing city, the outside was nothing to be remarked on. So much construction takes place in Bangalore and many times it gets halted for reasons few know, leaving rubble and debris piled here and there. It is not uncommon to suddenly find gaping holes in footpaths otherwise whole and solid or to encounter the front of a shop being in complete disarray but the inside of the shop as good new. The outside of Sue's Food Place was just dusty. Inside it was nicely furnished and air conditioned. The place specializes in food from the Caribbean, particularly from Trinidad and Tobago. Although they have a menu, they told us that they only serve a buffet. The buffet was small but varied enough to satisfy. Like nearly all eateries in India, there was vegetarian food as well as non-vegetarian, a side for each. My friend ate from both sides while I chose from the vegetarian side. They had wonderful cutlets among other tasty foods. My friend tried to convince me that I was missing out on the better things in life as he gnawed a chicken leg but I declined! He is always teasing me that by being vegetarian I am missing out on the best things in Indian food. Although neither of us has ever been to the Caribbean, all the food had a decidedly Indian taste to it. And it was good. I will probably go again.

After I returned to home and my friend left, I did some laundry. Then the power was cut for two hours which brought my washing to a halt. Instead I napped and sat in the dark. Power cuts are quite common throughout all of India and far worse in some states than in mine. My girlfriend in Kolkata says that they have power outages there which can last up to 8 hours! Since my first day in Bangalore, power outages happen nearly every day. Most last no more than 30 minutes to an hour. This was a long cut! When the power finally returned, I finished my laundry. I had failed to go to the market before it closed so I had maggi noodles again for dinner. I spice it up and add chilli peppers and cut onion.

There is a government regulated fruit and vegetable stall called HOPCOMS not far from me (sorry if I already mentioned that). They have a printed sign in front of the stall with the prices per kilo or half kilo etc. And they have to charge that amount, no matter what color of skin you have! I found out that the one fruit stall guy I had been visiting had been charging me a fortune for a hand of bananas! Maybe that was because I was foreign or maybe he rips everyone off - who can say! He has unfortunately lost me as a customer except for some of his more exotic fruits. Hopcoms sells only what is grown on farms near Bangalore. Sometimes that other stall has fruits from other Indian states.

I have become a fan of a show aired here on Nickelodeon called Shaun the Sheep. Those of you who know me well and my love of funny, cute things will just laugh to hear me say that I get great enjoyment out of a 30 minute show about an animated sheep and his buddies. But believe me, this BBC original cartoon is a hoot. Not one character ever says a word, yet a world of emotion and dialogue is portrayed in artfully designed animation and noises. I highly recommend that you check the provided link and watch some of the clips - you cannot help but at least smile at such antics. I can only watch the show on weekends because my office timings are from 5 PM until 2 AM and the show is supposed to air at 10 PM. Unfortunately, Saturday night's show was canceled for some other special. Instead I spent some time playing games on the computer before going to bed!

Today, Sunday, I slept late and was planning a day of exploring the area around me when I received a phone call from Mythili. In Peoria, Illinois where I was living, there is a Hindu temple which I attended regularly - even worked at for a few months. I became good friends with the elder priest there, Sampathji, and his wife Andalji. Their daughters live in Bangalore. When I landed in Bangalore I called up one - Mythili - and we had tentatively planned a meeting this weekend. But because everything in India tends to be tentative until it slaps you in the face, I didn't think anything of this. I have adjusted to this manner of managing time. And in the same manner, upon finding out that she was on her way to my flat, I adjusted my day's plans and welcomed her. She said she would come within one hour which can mean 2 hours depending on the manner of time management she herself employs and the traffic! So I scurried off to get some fresh water, biscuits, snacks and did other shopping well I was at it.

Hopcoms got a visit from me where the helpful guys not only gave me aloo (potatoes) and gobi (cauilflower) fresh from the farm but also suggested several other things which I politely declined until one of them remembered that I regularly buy bananas. He brought down a wide hand of bananas, saying these were the best, madam, and he thought I needed them for sure. Which I did, so I bought half the hand. They are also used to me carrying my own shopping bags and packed everything up nicely for me. I had enough time to scurry back home, put away my things and tidy up a bit before Mythili called for directions - she was near my place but unsure where to go. I set a location and went to meet her.

Mythili is a nice lady and her 13 year old son Krishnan also. I brought them home and they enjoyed the snacks and water while we talked. They brought me home-made bisi bele bath and some apples. We visited for a while, talking, discussing Kannada (Mythili corrected my writing) and about how I can go to their house for a visit. They live some two hours from my neighborhood. It would be very expensive to take a rickshaw or a taxi from my place to theirs. That just leaves the public bus system which I have been warned against using by Indians and foreigners alike. The public bus system in India is a dual affair. On the one hand, many will swear by them - despite traffic jams, crowds, weather, construction and poor infrastructure, Bangalore buses still get the job done: getting people from point A to point B. They are not as dangerous as buses in other states - fewer accidents happen in Bangalore than in some places. But buses here are usually very crowded and go at high speeds, although I have noted that they are not as fast as the Cochin buses which seem to travel 80 mph regardless of road conditions, curves, people, goats, street dogs and trees which might bring other buses to a respectable speed! I told Mythili I would have to decide when to come visit and figure out which bus I needed to take to reach her place. Sounds like quite the adventure in the making, yes?

In the afternoon, after Mythili and her son left, I went for a long walk. Saturday in the wee hours of the morning, I had climbed to the top of our building to the open terrace and looked out over the sleeping city as far as I could see, what with the other buildings and trees blocking the way. I smelled the air - and smelled India. It is a smell I will never forget and which I smelled the instant I left the airport over 3 weeks ago. It's a smell I can hardly describe. It's not a bad smell but perhaps people unfamiliar with it would have to get used to it. It sort of smells like something warm but not burning - like cloth that has come too close to a light bulb. I notice this smell especially at night and I wonder sometimes if its not the result of so many fluorescent lights being used all over the city. In India these are called tube lights and they are used much more than the US uses. Nearly every light in my flat is a long tube light. Street lamps in India are often tube lights. Anyway, I stood a long time and listened to this city I have come to call my home and smelled India and decided I would make the most use of my free time that I can accomplish. So in that spirit, Sunday afternoon I went for a walk.

I walked down 80 Foot Road til I reached the walking park. I walked around it for a while, watching the squirrels play in the trees. Then I walked down CMH Road as far as the 17th Cross. In India there are no such things as blocks. What are called blocks in the US are called crosses here. What in the US are called a neighborhood, India calls a layout or a stage or a nagar etc. There are some areas which bear the same neighborhood name but are a 1st or 2nd or even bigger stage or layout. This is because they planned a neighborhood and the first place developed was called the 1st Stage. I live in *****nagar 1st Stage (I really don't want to advertise the address!) but ******nagar 2nd Stage is laid out alongside my area, by now fully developed . Any street which intersects 2 perpendicular streets can be called a cross. There are main crosses which intersect main roads and just crosses which may intersect roads within an area. It is sort of confusing but after studying a map and walking around you start to get a feel for it. But you quickly realize why telling someone you live on 17th Cross, for example, is nowhere near enough information. 17th Cross of what stage, nagar, layout? Is the cross a main cross or just a cross?

Anyway, I walked until I reached the 17th Main Cross on CMH Road. There I found a man who would copy my house key. He took my last rupee until I get paid 31 October! But at least now I can relieve myself of the fear of getting locked out of my own house! See, there is no way to close my door without it locking automatically! So if I ever forget my keys on the table, leave and shut the door - I will not be able to get back in! I turned back and headed for home, reaching my nagar as the sun was sinking. The sun seems to go away earlier and earlier and the cloudy skies add to the effect. I refreshed myself and started cooking the aloo and gobi I had bought, following a recipe I had copied from a website. It turned out really well - not as spicy as I enjoy but still good - and I ate it with some store bought chapati (flat bread). Sadly Shaun the Sheep was again usurped by another holiday special. But my friends here in India entertained me by calling me to wish me a happy birthday....yes folks, its officially 27th October here on my side of the world. I am 36 years old today and living my dream in India :-) Wouldn't my mother be both amazed and proud of her baby girl 36 years down the road and thousands of miles from my birth home, smelling India and listening to explosions heralding both Diwali and my special day?

The Weekend Passes and the Shift Begins

2008-10-20T02:46:00.006-05:00

From today (20 October 2008) onward, until I am told otherwise, I am working from 5 PM until 2 AM India time. My training continues today and for the rest of the week I am sure, probably longer as well. I am eager to learn all I can and also hope that my client alias has come through so that I can get a badge, employee badge and a log in at work - there are several online tools needed for my job that I am eager to master.

The weekend passed nicely. On Saturday I perused the book of maps that the company gave me for the clearest walking route to Cambridge Road. I thought to see Sumathi and her husband again and to see if the mobile shop where I always used to top off my pre-pay card would be open. This book of maps is quite nice. It is Bangalore's streets, area by area, with a fairly comprehensive gazetteer for looking up specific streets, places, businesses and so on. I studied the maps and came up with the clearest walking route I could see. I was fairly sure there were many other routes I could have taken but for the first time out walking, I wanted choose a route even I couldn't get lost on!

The street I chose to start off on was narrowed and crowded due to construction. See, Bangalore is building a metro train track which will supposedly help with the already struggling transportation system of its crowded streets. The metro is supposed to run to the new airport (I think) and also courses the main thoroughfares in Bangalore's infrastructure. However, like many construction projects, especially ones being built in busy places, the work is slow. I had to keep my wits, ears and eyes wide to avoid the cars, bikes and rickshaws winding through the narrow, often muddy and pot-hole riddled lane that the road had been reduced to while one half of it is closed for metro construction work. When at last I came to Old Madras Road, the traffic was quite heavy but the foot path was open...except when bikes (motorcycles) came onto the footpath to use it to get ahead of the congestion on the street!!!

About halfway to my destination, the daily rains came. Around 3 PM almost every day while we are in this season, the sky opens and rains - usually starting slowly and then deluging for some time. Sometimes we will get a good soaking, it relents, but that is just the precursor for a bigger storm wherein the sky grows dark, there is thunder and lightning and it pours rain for about one hour or more. This was a precursor storm – I walked for a while in the increasing drizzle before stepping under a bus shelter. I waited with a crowd of others, some waiting for the buses and others waiting for the rain to stop as it increased to a heavy pour.

Buses came and went, discharging passengers and gaining new ones before they again hurtled into the traffic. People stood mutely, some listening to headphones, others watching the slanted rain. One young man was wearing full cricket whites and had a bulging sports bag full of cricket equipment slung over his shoulder. When his bus came, he almost didn’t make it onboard but somehow found a way to climb onto the bus as it was pulling away from the curb, the other passengers moving to make way for his bag. I waited for the rain to slow to a mist and the sky to lighten before I started on my way again.

I stopped occasionally to ask people I met if I was on the right road. With my broken Kannada and the majority of people able to understand English, it is easy and simple ask for a street name, use gestures for directions. You will find that most people are happy to guide you. Before long I was on Cambridge Road and being welcomed into Sumathi’s home. She fed me avial, a South Indian dish made with many veggies and coconut (very popular with Keralites and Tamils) and tea. She and her husband talked to me about other routes I can take to reach Cambridge Road and general chat while their granddaughter amused us by telling jokes. While we sat, the big storm came with a rumble or two, dark skies and a deluge for one hour. I started back for home when the rains stopped.

In this city, when it rains, you are confronted with conflicting smells. In India, public urination is common. Men particularly will just unzip and urinate anywhere along a wall or hedge or alley. When it rains, the smell of old and even fresh urine becomes overpowering in places. Add to that the rank odors from many of the waterways that run through the city which are full of sewage and trash which a fresh rain seems only to excerbate. But on the flip side, the concrete steams with the rain fall, the red earth gives out a fresh smell of growth and the flowers which fell from the trees under the downpour perfume the air as you step over them. Everyone seems more energized after a rain, from the people to the street dogs that walk with an extra curve in their tails. Even I felt an extra bounce in my step as I walked by a new route back home. Once in my neighborhood, I got some groceries and headed home to eat some brinjal (eggplant) curry I had made with some appam which I had bought from the store.

Sunday morning I spent doing my laundry. As I have already eluded to, doing laundry in India is not as simple as it is in the US. As I also wish to conserve water, laundry becomes a few hours’ long project! I also have started using the spare room as the drying room because it makes no sense to hang it outside in this season of daily rains! In the evening, I stepped out for eggs and water. Muni was coming over for a visit for the first time.

Muni and I had a good visit, talking and having some drinks over Kishore Kumar and Kumar Sanu tunes on his mobile phone. It was the sort of relaxed evening we had both always wanted to share when I was in India before but which circumstances had prevented. He left for home by 10 PM and I am fairly sure he will come again. Our friendship is nearly 4 years long now and this more relaxed setting will surely strengthen it. He also said he wants to send one of his carpenters over to build a shelf for my puja. In the Hindu religion, the puja table or shelf should face east. Right now, I have nothing on the east facing wall that will allow that. So he said he would work something out if my landlord is willing to allow me to affix a shelf to the wall. Muni is like that – if he sees a trouble, he immediately tries to find a solution!

After Muni left I forced myself to stay awake until around 1 AM. My new shift will see me awake until after 3 AM so I figured I need to get used to it! There is a show on the National Geographic channel here which features the stories of street monkeys in various Asian and African cities. The stories are documentaries, telling the various monkey gangs’ struggles to survive in their human dominated world. Some of my readers may be laughing at such a concept but believe me, it’s actually an interesting show! But when I could no longer stay awake, I went to bed, setting my alarm for 10 the next day which is when I plan to wake every day of the work week…only 6-7 hours of sleep are needed by me and then I have 6 hours of time at least of each day to have personal time. I hope I adjust to this schedule fast and can continue enjoying my life here.

Slide Show

2008-10-18T00:05:00.001-05:00

Check out my slideshow on Flickr by clicking this link or clicking the small slide show on the right side of the screen. I will add more photos as I take and upload them.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/31541959@N06/?saved=1

I am Officially Welcomed to the Team

2008-10-15T03:25:00.006-05:00

My official training for the job has started, as of the 14th Tuesday. Up until now I have had a lot of orientation and the official paperwork handled such as registering me at the closest hospital in case of an emergency, registering me at the central police station and getting a residency permit. In addition, I have had the neighborhood and city tours which hopefully should have shown me where to purchase items I may need, where banks and stores are and so on. Unfortunately a lot of it has not stuck with me because it's hard to remember all such things when you are half dead with jet lag and thrust into a lot of new things all at once. I am fortunate enough to have several friends in Bangalore already who are very willing to help me find whatever I need. In any case, I am positive all of these things will gel eventually.

The same goes for the training I am receiving. Coming from an education background, a lot of the corporate terms and procedures which I am being introduced to are very new to me and somewhat confusing. I have not asked many questions as of yet because, as I understand things anyway, the training is quite extensive and many things which I may be confused over now may become clearer as I train and get used to things. For now, even getting in and out of the client's buildings is quite challenging because I do not have an employee badge yet. A badge also means I have no employee number so in effect, I do not exist in their system in any way even though I am an employee. The security is very strict and this has caused some issues especially when I have to come alone to one of the two buildings that I have to train in and the security guards not only do no know me but also cannot understand me very well due to language barriers. These issues will hopefully be cleared up by the end of the week.

I do know where my desk is and it's a nice desk. It's a corner desk very near the cafeteria. Big and comfortable looking. It will be the first time in my life that I have my own work desk - even at the school I didn't really ever have a desk! The desk number is 3011 on the 3rd floor of one of the buildings in which the client is set up. I have met several more people, some of whom will be integral parts of my work life including my boss, and several people who basically my peers only in different clusters or areas of the services that the client provides. Frankly it's a lot of new faces and names to remember in addition to the new procedures, new streets and so on that it's all sort of a swim inside my head!!! Last night when the client transport was taking me to my home, I became lost in the darkness. The driver wanted me to give directions but I was confused by the darkness, the glare of the rain on the streets and the windshield and despaired that I would ever find the place. Even the other two employees that the driver was dropping somewhere else were trying to find the home for me. Finally I managed to direct the driver onto a street I was familiar with and going a direction I was familiar with when going home myself on my walks and I was able to tell him how to get to my house - nearly 15 minutes after we set off to search it down!

Add to all of this: I was sitting in the cafeteria innocently eating my lunch when the chair I was sitting in BROKE!!! Imagine the color of my face at this terrible moment!!! When I sat in it, I had felt it was not a stable chair and I should have switched seats then and there, saving myself the embarrassment! Breaking a chair happens - we all know that. But when you are an overweight individual and a chair breaks under you it is the height of mortification even if evidence reveals that the bolts were rusted, one missing and another lose. The other employees sitting around seemed stunned more than amused and one man picked up the pieces while I tried not to die on the spot and another suggested and retrieved for me one of the other types of chairs that were there which was stronger than the type I had sat in. It was not until after lunch and back in the training room that one of the engineers whose training I had been observing all day asked me if I was all right after falling. Everyone else actually seemed too stunned by the event to even think to ask me if I was ok.

Meetings in this corporate world I have entered seem to last an eternity. When the schedule says the meeting is over at 6, that really means 7 or 8. For now meetings for me are very confusing because a lot of things of which I have no knowledge yet are discussed in great length. I have tried to pay close attention anyway because I will surely need the information they speak of at a later date when all these procedures and processes are more clear to me. Today I was officially welcomed onto the Language Specialist team in the client's building and met the 24 other members of the company's team. One woman, Mallika, has turned out to be a life saver, helping me catch the transport home and explaining to the coordinator where I live and assuring me that the extreme confusion and worry I am feeling over the vast amount of information being thrown at me and the company's expectations that once I have been shown how to do something one time I should be able to do it again without help will pass at least within one month when I will start to see a pattern in the chaos. She is a wonderful gal, very friendly and supportive and I am glad I now made a new friend on my team!

Muni saved me again tonight...I sent him a text message asking if he thought I would be able to exchange the mobile phone I purchased because it has turned out to be both hard to use and unreliable. He sent a message back saying he didn't think I could exchange it and that he would be able to take me to the mobile guy he knows and help me get a better one (Muni is what I like to call a mobile guru - the guy knows every model of phone in use in India, I think, including the phones' features, available colors and ringtones etc etc. That's why when I had a mobile question, I didn't bother anyone from the company or client teams I am around every day...I knew Muni would have a good idea for me). I told him I worked too late these days for us to be able to go together and that I really didn't have the money for a new phone until the end of the month when my paycheck is supposed to come. He called me up and said he would get me a phone himself and drop it off to me this night itself. Not only did he bring me a brand new Nokia mobile (red and cream colored with a cool flashlight feature which will surely come in handy on India's dark night streets) but he brought me a tasty south Indian meal of spicy sambhar, vada, chutney and curd rice complete with pickle! He also insisted on lending me some money even though I told him I have enough to see me through the weekend and that I just needed to either wait til the end of the month or exchange some of my US cash which I had brought if I needed more. I am really blessed to have friends like Muni and others here in Bangalore to make my transition and settling in period that much easier.

So now I am off to sleep after a hard day full of amazingly long meetings and observations, an embarrassing act or two, a nice meal and another long (9 hours!) day full of more meetings and trainings waiting for me when the sun comes up again!

One Week Since I was in US

2008-10-14T00:32:00.008-05:00

So it's Tuesday and it is one week since I flew from US to start a new life here in Bangalore. I will be picked up for my first day in the office in about 45 minutes. It's a beautiful mild day in Bangalore and I am praying it does not rain. Last night I used my washing machine for the first time and hung all my laundry on the terrace to dry. the washing machine I have in my flat is very different from any washing machine I have ever used!

The washing machine consists of two tubs side by side. A hose from the shower outlet connects to the washing machine. You turn the water on to fill the wash tub, add detergent and clothes and set the timer after plugging the machine into the wall. There is a small agitator inside that moves the clothes (like most washing machines) until the timer is over. Then you have to change the dial to drain and all the water in the wash tub comes out of a hose at the base of the washing machine. Then you have to move the clothes to the spin tub. The spin tub is smaller than the wash tub which is inconvenient - you may look at the wash tub and think it can hold much more than the spin tub can and then have to spin the clothes in 2 settings because it won't all fit in the spin tub. When you have filled the spin tub with as much as you think it can handle, you have to slide a switch over that allows you to fill the spin tub with water and this rinses the clothes. Then you close the spin tub and set the spinner timer and the clothes get spun very efficiently - they are nearly dry when they emerge which is very smart in this tropical like weather where the air is often humid and where it can rain nearly out of a clear blue sky!

The only complaint I have with the washing machine is that it wastes a lot of water. The draining part is typical and a waste of water that happens no matter how you wash laundry. But when you rinse the clothes in the spin tub, the water just flows over the clothes and out the hose on the side of the machine. That's a lot of wasted water. One friend suggested that I wash the clothes in the wash tub side then rinse them myself in a bucket of water and then use the spin tub. Next time I do the wash I will try that and a few other things so that I can waste less water. In India, thousands go without drinkable water so it seems almost a sin to waste so much just to get the soap from my clothes!

A friend came to visit me - the second in 2 days. It's fun - I am getting more visitors in India than I ever did in the US! Anoop is one friend I have made online. He met me at a landmark near my home and surprised me with some flowers - yellow roses - and we walked back to my flat. We had another omelet. When my other friend came to visit I made him leave the kitchen so he wouldn't see that I probably cook in a very unIndian way even if I use Indian spices. Although I eat Indian food which I prepare, nearly no Indian has ever tasted it and would probably be rather critical of it if they did! Actually I was being rather brave to serve my version of Indian dishes to Indians who can spot the fake from the real thing just with a sniff of their nose! Anyway, I let Anoop stay in the kitchen and he did tell me I was making an Indian omelet wrong compared to how Indians do it, but in the end he declared that it was good anyway! We had a nice visit, talking and joking. Then he had to leave but I certainly hope he comes back. I would like to have a better social life here in India than I managed in the US. I have many friends here but all are as busy as me and the office timings are so varied...I am hoping despite all of these things, I can relax with friends in this wonderful flat I have now and have fun!

I found when I fell asleep that night that I was feeling a bit nervous about this job for the first time since I interviewed for it. I have never worked in a corporate environment and know that this will bring many confusing things as well as a lot of learning and responsibility. I feel that if I can learn to understand how this corporate world works, there will be a lot of room for advancement and for appreciation for my hard work and effort in the company which seems to care a lot for their employees. I simply pray that I can figure out this new world I am about to enter!

First Friend, First Meal

2008-10-13T11:51:00.007-05:00

This Sunday, my 4th day in Bangalore, I had a friend over to my house for the first time since I came. We spent all day inside visiting, relaxing and I made my first meal also. I made maggi noodles and egg omelet.

In the neighborhood where I live there are fresh fruit and veggie stalls up and down the road. There are also two chain stores where in you can purchase many things. One is Nilgiris, a small shop but packed with lots of different things including fruits, vegetables, toiletries like shampoo, soap and lotion, baby supplies, cleaning supplies, food including pre-made foods and dry goods for making dal and such, dairy products and eggs. The staff is very friendly and helpful. Like many Indian stores, you have to check any bags you are carrying with you with the security guard at the entrance. This has caused some small issue sometimes when I bring the reusable shopping bags that I brought from the US because the guard wants me to check these bags and I need them for my groceries! But they are getting used to me. I want to avoid using plastic bags in India just as I did in the US. The other store is a big retail called MK Retail. This particular branch near my flat has 4 floors of goods including electronics, groceries, plastic ware, decorations, linens and cleaning supplies. I have gotten several of my kitchen things here as well as some cleaning supplies. But for my fruits and vegetables I like to buy from the street stalls. India is full of street stalls where you can buy all sorts of items which these other stores also carry. The difference is that street stalls are often owned by a family and buying from them supports their family. You can also haggle the prices of fruits and veggies a little with the street stall owners whereas in the stores you have to buy them for the price that is marked, no wheeling and dealing allowed.

In addition to these stalls and the stores, there are at least 2 hotels/restaurants, a video rental store, a stationary store, two temples and I am not sure what else within a very close radius to my flat. I have not had the time as yet to completely explore the area. I could almost never leave the neighborhood and yet still get nearly all the things I need to carry on life. But the retail stores' prices on some items are quite high especially for stainless steel items that are so nice to have in the kitchen like stainless steel plates, pans etc. So I will make a trip to one region of the city called Ulsoor where I have been told I can get stainless steel items quite cheap.

My first meal on the gas stove which I cooked for my friend and I was a good one but could have been more spicy. The stove is a typical gas stove found here - a tank of propane is hooked to a stove of 1 or more burners. Making sure the tank is switched open, you turn on the stove and use a lighter to light the gas flowing into the burner. In the US I have had hardly any experience cooking with gas stoves - I usually used electric. But my omelet and maggi noodles were a success with a note to myself to make the omelet more spicy next time.

(Infomation deleted due to company policy)

My Old Stomping Grounds

2008-10-13T02:54:00.004-05:00

This Saturday I spent the morning in training with the company. They had some PowerPoints to show about Bangalore, about the company and the client. It gave me a bigger picture of what I am working in and also gave me a chance to ask the Human Resources man who showed the PowerPoints to me any questions I had regarding some company rules and procedures. After a 30 minute presentation on the importance of privacy with the personal data that sometimes gets collected by the client, I was free for the weekend! As soon as I had gone home and freshened up, I found a rickshaw and headed off to Cambridge Road - my old stomping grounds.

When I came to Bangalore in 2007, I stayed in a hostel on Cambridge Road. I came to know the area around the hostel quite well, visiting the Sumeshwara Temple, the hotels, the Food World grocery. I came to know all the street stalls where I could get shampoo, notebooks, gifts, medicine etc. And I came to know my landlady at the hostel very well. When she came to Chicago this summer past, I went to see her. She is a very kindly woman and wanted the best for me, was always asking after me to make sure I was safe and happy in my last visit to Bangalore. I had decided not to tell her I had gotten this job and would surprise her.

The rickshaw dropped me at the end of her street and I walked up to the door, rang the bell and waited...I could hear Sumathi (that's her name) and her husband Jay talking inside. When Sumathi came around the corner and saw me she shouted in surprise which brought her husband running over too. They were both overjoyed to see me, invited me in and filled me with tea and cookies while I told them how I had gotten the job and was living quite near to them. They were very happy for me and told me that I was more than welcome to come over whenever I wanted and that they would help in any way that they could while I was in India. It was so nice to be welcomed so enthusiastically! Up til then I had not seen any of the other friends I have in Bangalore - all are too busy or traveling because I landed on a holiday weekend.

After saying my goodbyes to Sumathi and Jay, I went to the Sumeshwara Temple. There was the old man who watches the chappal (sandals and shoes) stall and he seemed to recognize me. I gave my shoes over for safe keeping and entered the temple grounds, going straight to the ancient Ganesha in the wall. Before leaving India in 2007 I had prayed there to God that if it was His purpose and plan, I would again come before Him there and there I was! I draped some flowers I had bought at a stall outside the temple around the statue and moved through the rest of the temple, feeling again the peace I always feel in such places. A small boy seemed very amused to see a foreigner so devoted to his religion and followed me around, calling me to see this or that statue of a god and telling me their names. I did not tell him I knew their names already because I was happy to see a young person so well versed and willing to tell others about what he loved.

When I left the temple I made my way to the hotel where I had always eaten before. My friend Muni had introduced me to this hotel where they serve traditional South Indian food in a fast food manner. The hotel is open to the street with tables both on the sidewalk and inside the hotel - a few for sitting at but most for standing and eating. You go to the counter at the front and order off the menu whatever you want. The man there takes your money and gives you a pre-printed ticket with your order on it. For example, I ordered the 2 idli tray which also comes with sambhar and chutney. I paid and received a yellow slip of paper that had Idli printed on it. I then took the slip to the counter in the back of the hotel where the kitchen is. There a man took my slip and other men started filling a steel tray covered with a piece of banana leaf. They put two idli (steamed rice patties) and a scoop of coconut chutney and a scoop of sambhar (spicy vegetable and lentil soup). I took a spoon from the rack and my filled tray and found a free place to stand and eat my delicious meal....and it was great. When you're done eating, you simply leave your tray and spoon and a young boy comes around and picks it all up, cleans the table and takes the dishes to the back to be washed and used again. I went inside the hotel again for a drink - this hotel supplies filtered water - and to wash my hands and off I went again to see more of my neighborhood.

My next stop was the study supply stall which sells blank notebooks, textbooks, pencils and other pen and paper things needed for classes. I bought a new notebook for my personal diary. Then I felt tired, it was getting dark and so I caught another rickshaw for my new neighborhood. But I m sure I will visit Cambridge Road again and again during my stay here. I will even learn how to walk there and save myself the rickshaw fare and get some good exercise in! Once again the rickshaw dropped me near my home and I found my way in the dark to my gate - I was happy I was picking up directions so well!

The Flat, the City Tours and the Landlord

2008-10-11T05:26:00.000-05:00

The flat where I was taken was much nicer than I expected it to be. I get two bedrooms and two bathrooms, both equipped with showers. The kitchen is big, the master bedroom very spacious. The furniture is a pretty green and crème color – 2 easy chairs and a sofa. The glass topped dining room table is situated under a sectioned display cabinet in the wall where I soon unpacked and stowed my puja things, books, picture of my parents and a few other personal things from the US. The bed is a great Indian style bed firm and surprising comfortable…I anticipate that my back pains will soon disappear from sleeping on this bed. The blanket the RM (relocations manager) bought for me is a bright blue and looks nice with the green curtains in the bedroom. All in all, the flat is comfortable, nicely furnished and clean enough that I started unpacking as soon as I said my goodbyes to the RM and confirmed when I would be picked up later for the orientations to begin.

I was up until 4 AM unpacking and arranging the furniture and trying to believe that I had actually done it – flown to India for a job for the next year to live in this cute flat in the best city I had visited in all of my stay in India.

The next day, the RM and one of the Lead Managers (LM) from the company and client came for me in the same car I had come home in. Whenever there is a company or client function, meeting or work timing, we get a driver to take us to the office and back home. It’s very convenient! The first day I was in Bangalore with the RM and LM was spent in registering me at the local hospital, seeing some of the malls nearby my neighborhood and other eating places and places for services and ended with a tour of my immediate neighborhood to see where to shop, where to eat etc. I got signed up for a mobile which we would activate the next day. I also found an STD booth which also had a net café. In the STD booth I was able to call my Indian friends in other states as well as the ones in Bangalore to tell them I had come safely. I had used the RM’s mobile to call my brothers when I had been on my way to the flat that morning. I got online and sent mails and answered mails and then went shopping.

Very near to my flat is a place called MK Retail which has 3 floors of everything you can need – food, housewares, linens etc. I got some bits and pieces and only managed to get lost two times walking back home in the dusk! I was so tired that I just ate some wonderful mango flavored cornflakes and slept off.

The next day was spent with the same LM and the RM and another Language Specialist (LS). First we went to the company office and filled a stack of papers which would be given to the government and kept in records and help me get my salary, insurance and provident fund. I met more of the office staff and all were very friendly and helpful to me – I am still suffering from some jet lag in the form of tiredness, dizziness and a generally feeling of fuzz on the brain! Then we were off to the police station to register my residency. Monday I will return to the station to get a residency card. This card must be on me at all times in case of emergency or troubles and will also help me get the Indian rate for admissions to public places like parks, monuments and other historical places. It will come in handy when I travel I am sure!

We had lunch in a nice place called Koshy’s which I was told is one of the oldest places in Bangalore. I tried vegetable baranasi biryani - a rice dish from Northern India that was sweet and spicy.

Then we took the city tour – we drove to several malls and shopping areas, saw where Cubbon Park was as well as a few other historical buildings and places of interest. Not being much of a shopper, I actually can say that in these first 2 days in Bangalore I visited more malls than I have ever been to in all my life! But it was great to see where to get things like clothes, food, books, odds and ends and good food spots. I am very grateful that the company provides these tours to the LS coming in! I did buy some spices for my kitchen so I can start cooking. Just a few blocks from my house are vegetable stalls and fruit stalls where I can buy fresh fruits and veggies for prices that would make people in the US weep with envy. That’s just one of the other things I love about India – always we can find fresh fruits and veggies!

When I got home I found that my landlord who lives in the ground floor was home from his holiday. I said hi and went on up to my flat because he had family over and was very busy. One friend, Muni, called me and when he heard that I had not had dinner yet and might not eat because I don’t have a microwave yet and the stove also wasn’t working, he sent a friend over on a bike (motorcycle) to deliver some dal (lentils) and chapatti (bread). It was the best meal yet since landing…I liked the places I had eaten with the company people but I love the cooking from the hotels and kitchens of restaurants which I don’t think many of the other foreigners in the company would even dream of eating at! I am an Indian at heart I swear…I would prefer some street food from a stall or hotel over a fancy restaurant and love even more the food cooked in the kitchen by experienced housewives and mothers!

As I was planning a trip to the net café to tell my family what my mobile number was (we had gotten it activated on our trip around the city), the power went out. I decided to take a chance that the café might still have power and was surprised when I came out of my flat to see that the land lord and other houses around me still had power. I knocked at the landlord’s door and was invited in. I met him, his wife and 3 beautiful daughters as well as several other family members around. We talked for some time about the company and client (the landlord, Joy, works for the client) and about the state of India and US economies. Over a glass of his wife’s tasty homemade wine, we discussed the flat and he offered me the use of his computer which is in a small room attached to my flat. So soon I will have free net connection at home without even buying a computer! I was so grateful to him. He is a nice guy and his family very lovely.

That night I couldn’t sleep at all! I was up until nearly 2 AM despite talking to my dear thambi (younger brother – adopted) Nalin. I watched TV ( there are several English channels in the cable) and finally fell asleep, knowing that Saturday would bring more company formalities and maybe some time for myself so I can meet friends and see my old favorite places!

The Flight

2008-10-11T04:21:00.002-05:00

At the airport in Chicago I was selected for a special security check after the guard found out that I was traveling alone. They did a thorough search of my handbag, carry-on and myself but eventually let me go. We were sent through the lines fairly quickly and I had lunch before boarding the plane. The flight to Frankfort, Germany from Chicago was uneventful. I was very lucky that there was no one sitting in the seats beside me so I was able to relax and spread my things around while I worked on my puzzle books and read my book to pass the 8 hour flight. The meals were very tasty, the company’s relocation manager having made sure the airline (Lufthansa) would give me vegetarian meals. At Frankfort I had to change planes for the flight into Bangalore.

My boarding pass, given in Chicago did not have a gate number printed on it but I followed the departure signs that were pointing me towards another part of the airport and there met a surly information man who I was fortunate enough to not have to speak to directly because the couple ahead of me was on the same flight as me and I overheard the gate number. We all proceeded to the level where we needed to be and there met a bunch of even more surly security guards. Again my bags were subjected to a thorough check and myself as well – I was beginning to think I had a red letter on my forehead or a terrorist in my pocket who I had missed when dressing that morning! Finally I was released and started walking towards the gate some distance away only to be called back by another guard at another counter. This one railed at me extensively about “wandering around” and about how I should have known where to go next due to the ropes surrounding his area even though his area was several feet from the other security counter and not by far the only place heavily roped in that unfriendly place!

At last I was free to proceed to the gate waiting area where I could use the bathroom, brush my teeth and hair and find somewhere to sit in the crowded gate waiting area. It was a relief to sit in a seat that wasn’t swaying turbulently back and forth surrounded by the roar of the engines because for some reason I always seem to be placed over the wings on planes. The waiting area was filled with a mix of Indians waiting for various flights to ports all over India as well as Europeans but I think I was the only American there. I passed the time talking to others heading for India and playing a game of cards with myself which I made up on the spot.

When at last we were called to board the plane for Bangalore, I was again blessed with an empty seat beside me. This flight was another 8 hours long and was as uneventful as the other – I spent it dozing off listening to music on the headphones and reading my book, punctuated by meals, snacks and juice – it was a little like kindergarten! I even had to stay in my seat most of the time!

We actually arrived in Blore (Bangalore) 10 minutes early. We were landing in the new international airport which had been being built when I had been in India last year. I found it to be very nice – well organized and staffed. We immediately debarked at the airport itself instead of having to be bussed to the port from the tarmac as I had experienced before. The staff was friendly and efficient – I was off to collect my luggage in less than 10 minutes. The luggage came soon after and I was through customs and out to the waiting area in less than 3 minutes – I was amazed and impressed.

I looked around the busy waiting area, wondering who from the company would meet me and then one gentleman who is the relocation manager for the company rose and shook my hand. I was relieved someone had come to meet me!

We went outside into the humid night and into a car that he had brought with a driver and we were on our way through the quiet streets to my new home!

07 October - The Countdown Begins...

2008-10-07T08:37:00.002-05:00

...but among all the timezones I will cross, who knows how accurate the countdown will be! It's 8:40 AM and I am eating what may be my last meal in America! I chose an omelet croissant (no meat) sandwich and iced coffee which I am hoping will wake me up sufficiently but still be through my system before I am locked on a plane for 8 hours with only a handful of small bathrooms to use and lines outside of them full of others who drank too much coffee before boarding.

What an amazing journey this has been. Many of my friends and family are of course familiar with most of the steps: my lifelong interest in India, where as a child I used to read stories of India and dreamed of Lord Ganesha as my protector, how my interest in India was rekindled after my parents died and I found Indian friends online who helped me through my grief. My research of India and how much I felt familiar with its culture, food and main religion made me decide to see if I could live and work there. That led to my first visit....my first passport (and my second one after the first was lost!), my first visa and my first visit outside of the US. One friend in the US was amazed to learn that I had never visited the Mall of America but had been to India for 2 months! But when I have a passion and a dream for something, I tend to latch onto it like a bulldog...India has been no exception. In visiting I came to feel that I could indeed live and work in the culture...from the moment I landed I felt comfortable and confident and at home. More than anything I felt happy. Sure there were rough times with some friends, some climate, some culture differences. But I worked through them and emerged smarter and still carried happiness. I came home and immediately fell to getting my degree (Associates in General Education with High Honors) and my TEFL certificate (Teaching English as a Second Language - graduated with a Grade of High Distinction 94%) and learning Kannada because I wanted a job in Bangalore City where Kannada is their mother tongue. I was lucky enough to have Krishna teaching me, a distinguished and highly patient native of Bangalore who was more than happy to teach his beloved mother tongue to an American. I am by no means fluent yet in Kannada or Hindi but the help of tutors and friends has made me able to read and write both languages as well as understand a very limited amount. In any case, degrees and certificates and learning languages also brought me to searching for my job in Bangalore which, at long last - nearly 4 years after I felt called to do so - I got only 2 weeks ago.

So here I am, 4 years down the road, 1 degree, 1 certificate, hundreds of words in Kannada and Hindi dancing in my head, my bags packed, my farewells said, my passport (number 2!) and visa and my heart full of thanks to my lord Ganesha who has for nearly 36 years stood behind me protecting me, advising me, comforting me and encouraging me. With all of this and the love and prayers and wishes of family and friends near and dear to me, I stand on the threshold of a new life, a new career and a new country which has always seemed instead like the home I never lived in but in which I now get the chance.

I am ready :-)

06 October 2008 - The Visa Wait...is OVER!!!

2008-10-06T21:34:00.001-05:00

Just a quick note to tell that the visa was processed! I am on my way tomorrow!

06 October 2008 - The Visa Wait

2008-10-06T13:50:00.003-05:00

After a whirlwind of shopping with the money the school was able to cut for me early (we usually get our paychecks by the 15th of each month but the school was kind enough to make an exception for me and save me in the nick of time with enough money for my life switch to India), I had a great send off from the Hindu temple in Peoria where the priest blessed me and my travels and gifted me a beautiful Ganesha picture and a book about Hinduism. Then I had a great lunch with all my family from around Peoria, Illinois before they saw me onto the bus to Chicago for the last stage of my preparations before I can fly to Bangalore and my new job.

Today, after settling in at my friend's house, I went to the visa office with my stack of necessary papers in order. When it was my turn to present my application and papers, the man behind the counter informed me that there was a 1-2 day delay on employment visas. I asked why they didn't have that mentioned on their website because it clearly says that an employment visa will be processed and given on the same day if the papers are submitted in person. But they said, because an employment visa requires verification there may be delays and it is done on an individual basis so there is no way to specify the length of each employment visa. They said that because I have already been to India that may speed things up. But they also said that the visa may not be issued until tomorrow evening! That would be about 5 hours too late for me to catch the flight that the company booked for me!

I won't know until 5:30 PM tonight if they were able to process the visa and if i will fly out Tuesday as planned. But I have decided not to sweat it. For once this time it is not my money on the line. The company surely has a way to change the ticket if the visa gets delayed. In the meantime, I am enjoying a relaxing day in Chicago - the weather is cool and breezy with clouds and an occasional appearance of the sun. I love the bustle of cities so am enjoying that. And I figure, I have come this far. What's a little delay!!!

I will keep you posted!

Goodbyes and Hellos

2008-10-03T06:48:00.004-05:00

Goodbye to my family who has nurtured me to womanhood, capable of traveling thousands of miles from your arms, yet never able to forget the lessons and love that you have given me.

Goodbye to my friends who have watched me grow, never questioning my dreams even when they cannot themselves conceive of them.

Goodbye to my co-workers who have given me a stage on which I have grown and gained confidence, who believed in me as a worker, as a human and as an educator, gifting me over the years with far more than the amazing material gifts they surprised me with, but also with respect and appreciation such as I have never had in any other work place.

Goodbye to the students I have seen grow and change - I pray I influenced at least some of them to laugh and enjoy life even when doing things they don't want to do, to be daring in exploring technology and to look beyond their borders to the great big world out there.

Goodbye to America, the country that reared me and whose ideals inspired me.

Hello to India, land of my lifelong dreams.

Hello to Bangalore, city bursting with life and color.

Hello to my new workplace, Spectrum Consultants!

Hello to my new learners - I pray I can assist each to greater confidence.

Hello to new co-workers - the old ones may pray that the new can endure my "uniqueness"!

Hello to my friends, waiting to greet me.

Hello to my brothers and sisters who wait to welcome me to my second families.

Hello FUTURE - you are warned....I am COMING!