July 29-30

Friday, July 29
    I sat alone in the backseat watching the rain drizzle down the window.   Outside a woman on the back of a scooter huddled against the driver, trying to shield herself from the monsoon rains.  Pedestrians navigated the wet sidewalks, dodging both puddles and umbrellas.    Tarps did little to keep the make-shift stores dry, but their proprietors seemed undeterred.  This is daily life in Bombay during this season.    
    As we approached my destination, the streets became cleaner, the stores permanent, the businesses more upscale.  Once through the gate, my door was opened and I was directed to the Kapoor home.  A servant greeted me with a warm smile as I entered the magnificent entry way.  Oil paintings and beautiful artwork outlined with gold covered the walls; statues sat on the floor giving it an elegant yet warm feeling.
    I was shown into the living room where I was greeted by Priya.  From this room I could see the waves of the sea tumbling over to create small white caps.  We walked through the sliding glass doors and onto a rounded balcony covered with plants and beautiful statues.  I stood looking at the palm trees and listening to the sound of the sea.
    Charmaine and Rethie joined us later.  We sat in the living room enjoying a lot of laughs while being served cocktails and snacks.   Priya’s mom, a delightful woman joined us for a drink.  With a thick English accent, Charmaine shared a story about having a tarot reading.  Her cards were selected by a parrot (there was also a mouse there, but she assumes she wasn’t ‘mouse worthy’).  After dropping 5 cards, the parrot finally selected one.  She was then told that ‘she was meant to be a man, but it’s ok’.  I laughed so much my stomach hurt.  She went on to discuss the uniqueness of McDonalds in India.  “Where else in the world do you have a ketchup squeezer; someone who is actually hired to do nothing except stand and squeeze your ketchup?”
    Dinner was served, a delicious meal with many choices including a chicken casserole, bread, salad, rice and a spicy gravy.  After dinner we went to a going away party for Nin who was leaving for London the next morning.  Nin has been in India for 18 months, but her visa is ready to expire. 
Saturday, July 30
    I awoke in the Kapoor guest room where I was served breakfast on a tea cart.  Priya joined me but she only ate a small roll while I devoured the scrambled eggs and toast.  I made a mental note to learn to say ‘scrambled’ in Hindi.  Rakesh is a good cook, but I can’t always express what I want. 
In the afternoon we headed down to the waterfront in Apollo Bunder to see the Gateway to India, Mumbai's most famous monument.  This triumphal arch made of basalt stone was built to commemorate the visit of King George V and Queen Mary.
    Across the street sits the famous Taj Mahal Palace Hotel.  The detailed architecture and magnitude of this place reminded me of Paris.  Priya pointed out the difference in the windows from where they had repaired the destruction from the 2008 bombings.  Afterwards we had lunch at Khyber, a very popular Indian restaurant.   The restaurant had a free standing marble staircase leading to our table on the balcony.   I had a Caipiroska , my favorite Indian cocktail, which is similar to a vodka mojito.
Priya ordered for us: Mutton chop Mughlai and kheema seekh kebob, tangi kabob , pudina tikka, and reshma kebob (chicken & lamb kabobs) and Roomali & Lachha Paratha (Indian breads).  We shared a small dish of Indian ice cream, which is amazing.   All of the food here is delicious and nothing like the so called Indian food I’ve had in the US. 
    We went back to the Kapoor family home to watch a movie.  We were served tea while we did our nails.  Neither of us were interested in the movie so we headed to a small department store called Parsons.  Priya needed to pick up some party supplies for Brandon’s birthday party.  I find these places so interesting because there are many things I’ve never seen before.   Priyas driver took me back to the apartment in time for dinner, a very tasty oriental noodle dish.  I stayed up until midnight chatting on skype, doing laundry, packing and playing on the internet.  Four am is going to come too early.  The train to Gujrat leaves at 5:45 am.

Click this link for my pictures:

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.1866642067583.2092380.1286986094&l=dc424649b5&type=1

 

Sunday, July 24th

“Ah-low”
“Pappu, this is Debbie.  I need to get Rakesh’s telephone number.”
“Number, yes.”
“Do you have his number?  Telephone number.  I need to talk to him.”
“Rakesh?”  
“Yes, Rakesh.  Can you have him call me?”
“You talk to Rakesh?”  It’s times like this that make me wish I had spent more time learning Hindi. 
“Yes, can you ask Rakesh to call me?”
“Yes, 10 minutes, I be up.”
    I am hoping that maybe in person I can point to his phone and get a number.  A few minutes later Pappu and Rakesh come through the door.  I am really grateful that Rakesh speaks a little more English, but sometimes it’s still a challenge.   I explain to Rakesh that Kapil from the OTA center will be staying in the apartment this week and he should plan on cooking.  I haven’t seen him in a couple of days and I wanted to tell him that I wouldn’t mind eating here too.  I’m a little tired of going out.
    Once that was settled I requested some wheat bread and more Kool Café (iced coffee).  He says he will bring 3 cans in the morning.  He brought 3 cans last time.  I’m not sure why we have a 3 can limit.  Brandon said they stocked the refrigerator with beer when he was here; surely Kook Café is a cheaper than beer.  It will be nice to have Kapil here to help communicate.
“Password.  He cook.”
“Password?” I ask, searching my mind for what he could be talking about.
“I no Visa, cost 1 crore, Rakesh visa.  He go.”  It’s then I realize he said or meant to say ‘passport’. 
I turn to Rakesh, “You got your Visa to go cook in Dubai?”  He nods and lowers his head.  Rakesh appears to be very shy.  “That’s great!  I’m very happy for you. You will love it.  Dubai is beautiful.”
After a few words back and forth with Pappu, I gather enough to know that he is asking if there is an OTA in the US where he can cook in their guest house.  I inform him that we stay in hotels there and this is the only center that has a guest house. 
    Pappu steps back into the kitchen.  “This is yours?”  I ask as he proudly holds out a tie.  I had noticed it had been on the counter for several days.  I assumed it belonged to one of them. 
    He studies it with a look of uncertainty and holds it out to me.  “You want me to tie it?” 
“Tie,” he says, pointed at himself.
“You want me to show you how to tie it?” I ask holding it to my neck.
“Yes, yes.”
    I have no way to communicate that I would be honored to show him.  He and Rakesh watch intently as I do a ½ Nelson.  I show him that my thin end sticks out the bottom and shake my head to indicate that is not correct.  I demonstrate again, this time getting it right.  I hand the tie to Pappu and with a little help, he ties it but it’s uneven.   I put the tie on again and tie it, slide it loose and hand it to him again.   His grin broadens as he studies the knot.  I can still see them both smiling as they head for the door.  He is very happy to not only own a tie, but also have one that’s tied.

Friday, July 22nd

     Graduation day… I love the people here. The students made a reservation for the entire class and took me out to lunch today. We ate at the Noodle Bar, which is a Chinese buffet. We ‘Americanize’ our Chinese food; they ‘Indianize’ theirs. It was very good. After lunch they presented me with a gift card to Sukho Thai. A full glorious hour in a Thai Foot Spa. Another woman brought me homemade brownies. They are amazingly hospitable. The center ordered a beautiful cake that said, “May all your trades be green”. Reshma and Kapil were kind enough to tell me how to pronounce the names during graduation. It’s a really good thing; I would have mutilated every one.
     After class one of my students, Chethna invited me to go to Bandra where she lives. She took me to a place called Cottons that sells Indian clothing. The fabrics were beautiful. I tried on various things and she evaluated them for style. We drove through Bandra and stopped by the Arabian Sea. The beaches aren’t really safe so I just listened to the waves from a distance. Next she had her driver take me through town where she pointed out all of the movie stars’ homes. I didn’t know any of them, but it was still fun.
     We stopped in Mount Mary, a Roman Catholic church located in West Bandra. This huge structure stands on a hill overlooking the Arabian Sea. Wooden benches are evenly spaced on each side of the center isle, filling the incredibly large sanctuary. An oversized statue of the Virgin Mary stands at the front. Intricate paintings cover the large walls.
     Mount Mary is one of the most visited places in the city. Many of the faithful attest to the miraculous powers of St. Mary. They pray to Virgin Mary, expressing their gratitude or requesting favors. An assortment of candles shaped like houses, children, hands, feet and various other parts of the body are sold by street vendors out front. The suffering choose a candle that corresponds to their ailment and light it in Church, with the hope that Mother Mary will consider their appeals for healing (or a house or children).
     As we approached the altar, we removed our shoes. This is a common and very sensible practice all over India, especially considering the condition of streets and what might be on ones shoes. Chethna kneeled to pray while I waited (I didn’t want to be hypocritical since I don’t pray to Mary).
     Next we went to some of the street vendors where I bought 4 more pairs of sandals. Chethna did all of the negotiating. Each time the price began around 500 rupees. She fired back at them in rapid Hindi and she appeared to be extremely agitated. I could tell she had accused them of trying to take advantage of me because I am American. The men were shamed and trying desperately to defend themselves while attempting to renegotiate her 200 rupee counter-offer. She fired back again and again. The final price for most of them was 200 rupees ($4). She didn’t budge.
     We met Mehan, Chethna’s husband for dinner at the racecourse. I had been to Olive, but not Tote on the Turf. Knowing I was open to trying Indian food, they ordered for all three of us. It was absolutely delicious. I didn’t melt, so it was either mild or I’m getting used to the spices. As we were leaving, a man was meticulously preparing an assortment of spices rolled into a mint leaf. The Indian people chew spices after dinner to stimulate digestion and freshen breath.
     It was a really fun night. Chethna is an amazing woman. She was the first Indian to win an international award in jewelry design. She designs diamond pieces. She reminds me a lot of Priya, both are beautiful, strong, intelligent women. I feel very blessed to know them.

July 21st

     I tried the Indian breakfast again. Yesterday it was similar to a pancake. Today it was fried filo dough with flavored mashed potatoes in the middle. They said it was a Samosa. It was really good. You can only eat so many McDonalds Egg and Cheese McMuffins. There was another smaller round nugget in the box with my Samosa, but I wasn’t fond of it. I haven’t had any trouble eating the food here. It has a great flavor, but some days you just need some all American.
     I am teaching the Pro Trader Class this week. What a great group! I am getting used to most of the accents now, but every once in a while someone will have to translate. They all want to take me out to lunch tomorrow. They are amazingly hospitable.
     A lady in my class, Satyajeet offered to take me to Worli and Bandra tomorrow night then have her driver bring me back. Bandra is a suburb located in the north-west of Mumbai. It has been referred to as the "Queen Of The Suburbs". It is a highly sought-after location for restaurants, pubs, high-street stores, and many Bollywood movie stars.
     Worli is a part of South Mumbai. It is bounded by the Arabian Sea to the west. The Worli-Bandra Sealink connects the western suburbs to island city of Mumbai. I’m looking forward to seeing both of them.
     I had lunch with Neeraj yesterday. He mentioned that 60% of Mumbai’s population live in the slums; that’s about 7 million people. I used to think that it was wrong to hire people for such a low wage, but I have a new perspective on it now. I can see that it would be impossible for the 40% to take care of the 60%. People could hire one person at our minimum wage and maybe take one out of the slums. Seven others would go hungry. Or they could hire 8 people at a very low wage and they would all eat without having to pick through garbage. There are just too many people here for the type of assistance we offer in the US. People are very happy to have any job.
     OTA pays a guy to stand by the coffee machine and push the ‘hot chocolate’ or ‘coffee’ button. After the first few days, I didn’t have to tell him my drink of choice. There’s a man who fills the water bottles during lunch and again in the evening. They serve meals and clean up. Another man guards the front door.
     Everywhere I go there is an elevator man. He spends all day (not just 8 hours) standing in the corner of that small, hot elevator pushing buttons. The same men are there no matter how early or late I am. The operator at the center knows I am going to the fourth floor. He also knows I don’t pay attention and try to get off on the wrong floor all the time. He always says, “No madam, three.”
     All of the operators in the Phoenix Towers know I am going to the 21st floor. They are very kind. People are very proud and grateful for their jobs. They don’t do them begrudgingly. A lady got on the elevator one day and reached around the man to push her own button. I remember thinking she was very rude. They know who you are and where you are going.
     All of them: the maids, cooks, security guards, elevator operators, water bottle fillers and coffee button pushers are extremely helpful. If I lift my plate after lunch, someone runs to get it from me. They are not pushed or prodded to do their job; they do it willingly. My students are also very hard-working people. I’m sure they are the fortunate ones.
     My first few days here, I really thought the maid had a bad attitude. When I asked her to do something, she would tilt her head from side to side. At home that means, ‘whatever!’ Here it means ‘ok’. When someone asked me if I was finished with a glass, I shook my head yes. He immediately took his hands off the glass to leave it there. Priya said I was confusing people with the head shake. I’ve been working on the tilt. The other day I was listening intently to a student’s question. I found myself doing the tilt unconsciously. I am trainable I guess.
     I ran out of cash last night and didn’t even have enough money for a Frankie (it’s only about $1) after work. I made myself a peanut butter and jelly instead. I remembered to bring money today so I could go find the exchange. I was walking along, minding my own business when I was assaulted by five pairs of homeless shoes. I am now housing some of India’s finest. Ninety-five percent of the feet here are covered by sandals. This is the sandal mecca. I might need more luggage for my trip home.
     I had dinner at the Bombay Blue Café tonight. It was good. I wish I knew what all of the things on the menu have in them. It’s hard to know if something sounds good when you have no idea what it will look or taste like by its name. I ordered a sampler platter with Mexican, Indian and American food. I knew what two of them would taste like.
     I stopped at a place called Natural. One of my students said they serve the best Indian ice cream. His favorite is mango pineapple. I can see why; it was amazing.
     Rakesh knows I hate the Nescafe and I don’t usually let him make me breakfast or dinner. This morning I had him make me a piece of toast. It amazes me that he really seemed delighted that he could finally do something for me. When I got back to the guest house tonight, I was delighted to find some Amul Kool Café (iced coffee) in the refrigerator. He is really trying to take care of me.
     This place has really changed how I look at things. I no longer look at the poor here with pity, but with respect for doing their job well. I am getting used to the accents, head tilts, spicy food, the buttons being pushed and being served. I am still having trouble with the smelly spot.

July 17 & 18th

Sunday, July 17th

     It has been raining a lot here, which means the streets are flooded, which also means cars and trains are all delayed. The trash pickup in the smelly spot was delayed too. I’ve learned that this is a drop off spot from the slums across the street who obviously can’t afford a service. Of all the places to choose to drop it, I don’t know why it couldn’t be somewhere besides the small distance between home and work.
     I thought Matt was kidding about the rats and homeless, but today I learned otherwise. Several birds were picking at the remains of a rat that was about the size of a kitten. A thin man with dingy clothing and bare feet was also searching through the trash. I can’t imagine what could possibly be useful in the trash from a slum. It’s sad, but with 60% of the population here who are either homeless or living in slums, I’m pretty sure the other 40% can’t pay enough taxes to fix the problems here.

Monday, July 18th

     I went to the mall after work today. I have been looking for a place to buy nail polish for several days (I forgot mine). I discovered a spa and made an appointment. After tomorrow I will once again have pretty toes and nails. I also found 3 new shirts for Rs. 2,000 ($45.00). They are soooo cute! If it weren’t for the smelly spots and kitten sized rats, this place might start to feel like home.
     After shopping I stopped at McDonalds. My purse was searched at the door. My first thought was ‘who is going to hold up a McD’s and steal french fries?’ but then I realized they were checking for explosives. I guess everyone wants to make sure they’re not the next one to be blown off the map. I’m grateful for that.
     After an Indian breakfast (Ubma-a spicy potato dish) and Chinese lunch at the center, I was ready for some all American. Well, sort of. I had planned to try the burger which Brandon said is made from buffalo. I guess ‘hamburger’ isn’t the correct word for it so I was served a McChicken. They also had a Chicken Maharaja Mac, but I decided against that. The chicken wasn’t very good so I was really glad to see that Rakesh made dinner tonight. Maybe I’ll call over there one night and get a McDelivery of a buffalo burger.

Saturday, July 16

Saturday, July 16     
    I was drifting off to sleep when the doorbell rang at 1 am. I knew Derek was scheduled to arrive late so in a bit of a foggy state, I headed out to open the front door. He and Giri had apparently tried every key in their pocket before deciding they would have to wake me. Derek came through the door with a boisterous smile and his apologies. I didn’t mind; I really enjoyed meeting him and I knew he would be sleeping when I got up to leave for work. He had just flown in from Calcutta where he had been teaching. We chatted for a bit before I headed back to bed.
     After work we were scheduled to meet Priya at Olive, a really nice Mediterranean restaurant at the horse track. Derek and I crossed the street from the Phoenix Towers and attempted to hail a taxi. Apparently you don’t call a taxi because there are 20 million of them on the streets. The traffic was heavy and slow so we walked in the street, dodging puddles, cars, scooters and looking inside the cabs. Every taxi already had a fare. After about 10 minutes we spotted someone being dropped off and quickly jumped in the back seat before anyone else could claim it.
     I’ve learned you have to be assertive here. If you are driving, you dive in and force the other driver to stop; there will be no courtesies or waving you in. If you are in line at a counter, you crowd the person in front of you. If you stand back out of their personal space, someone will think it’s an opening and jump in front of you. I figured that out after having four people cut in front of me while I was trying to order a Frankie. After observing a few minutes, I cut to the front, money visibly in hand and calling out for a Bhuna. You take what you need here. People don’t think you’re rude; it’s a way of life.
     Derek gave up on trying to talk to the cab driver; he dialed and handed his cell phone to the driver so Priya could tell him our destination in Hindi. We couldn’t find Olive when we were dropped by the horse track so we walked down the sidewalk past various sidewalk vendors. Finally, Priya had her driver come to us.
     The entrance to Olive was covered with sand and outdoor furniture; it had a very nice beach-type atmosphere. We went inside a very chic refurbished horse stable with white linen table cloths and soft lighting. Priya ordered appetizers and we all shared 2 bottles of sparkling wine. Brandon swears Olive has the best filets in the world, so I had to see if he was right. It was really good. We shared a lot of laughs and I got to know Derek a little better. He has a great sense of humor and a jovial personality.
     Priya’s driver picked up her friend Charmaine while we were finishing dinner and then we all headed to the Blue Frog. The monsoon rains were flooding the streets as people waited outsdie the packed club. We headed across the street to another club. Derek, Priya and Charmaine were full of energy and danced the night away. By 1:30 am, I was exhausted. Priya’s driver took me home and they partied on into the night. I was the only one who had an alarm going off in the morning.

July 14-15th, 2011

Thursday, July 14th

I was up pretty late last night answering e-mails. The outpouring of prayers and concern was really heart-warming. Things seemed pretty normal this morning until I heard a loud noise. When I went to the living room, Matt and Nut (it’s pronounced Noot btw) were looking out the window. Matt said it sounded like a bomb to him. We couldn't see anything. Nut said she's heard it before (she's home during the day), so it was probably construction. They should know this isn't the time for loud noises. Lol

Raj came to the guest house today. He said the staff at OTA were all in a meeting last night so they are fine. My heart hurts for the families who lost loved ones. I’ll never understand how someone can develop that kind of hatred; I guess we are not meant to.

I played with the kids for a bit while Matt and Nut were packing. Xavier built a puzzle (which is really impressive for 2 years old) and Sebastian just wanted to touch it. They’re adorable. Matt and his family left at about 10 pm.

I didn’t waste any time taking over the master bedroom. I had it cleaned and my stuff moved in by midnight. I love it. It’s so much bigger, queen size bed, newer tile in the bathroom, nicer balcony and a push out with windows that go from ceiling to the floor. I moved the desk in here (it was just piled with laundry in the hall) so now I have a place to work. It’s really cool to sit at my desk and look down 21 floors. At night the view is amazing.

After my room was setup, I reorganized and cleaned the kitchen. I would actually cook in there now… well, if I cooked.

Friday, July 15th

Pappu was moved to another floor and we got a new cook named Rakesh. He speaks some English (enough to communicate). He’s very clean and neat too. He brought in a loaf of fresh oat bread this morning and threw away my wheat because it was expired. I am so happy that he looks at expiration dates! Pappu is very sweet, but he bought expired OJ and the first loaf of bread was old (that’s why it nearly pulled my teeth out on my first day here).

Rakesh made me a cheese omelet and oat bread toast; it was really good. Tonight he made some cheesy noodle dish; that was good too. With all this good cooking, I had to get back to doing my workouts; that feels good mentally (the physical part will have to catch up). I had to give up the stairs; they were wet too many days from the monsoon rains. Wet marble, stairs, me…not a good combination.

Priya and I went to lunch at Shiro. She came to “fetch me at half twelve”. I love the way she talks. Lunch was wonderful. They cooked and served hibachi style. We both ordered filet mignon. After two weeks, it was sooooo good to have beef! We also shared a bottle of Indian wine and a chocolate volcano. So much for the workout… I guess it’s better than eating that and not working out. As my sister says, it’s my story; I will tell it the way I want to.

Priya decided she didn’t want to go back to work so we headed to the Palladium Mall. It’s right next door but it was raining so her driver took us to the front door. I love her life.

I’m finding the charm that everyone sees in Mumbai. Priya has been an amazing friend and I always love spending time with her. We obviously have the same taste; I’ve loved every place she has taken me. The people at the center (Rajesh, Hari, Kapil, Saurabh and a couple others whose names I don’t know) have been absolutely wonderful too. They greet me with a warm smile and treat me as an honored guest. They have an amazing support staff too so you’re never without assistance. It’s a great office. I’ve asked the girl at the front desk her name about 3 times now. I don’t know why I can’t remember it, but she’s very sweet and understanding. The names are harder to learn because I’ve never heard them before. I’m sure mine is unusual to them too.

It’s rained a lot lately, but like Greece, you just get used to it and walk in it anyway. It’s too hot for my purple plaid boots and raincoat. Too bad, because they’re really cute. I’m getting used to the honking too. It’s just part of life here. Xavier was driving his matchbox car around on the floor and saying, “Beep beep beep beep”. Matt said he’s been here too long.

Tomorrow is my first day of class. Derek arrives tonight, but I don’t know what time. I thought it would be weird living with people you don’t know, but it’s really not. Bombs, honking, millions of people, smelly spots…I’m starting to get used to it. Well, not the smelly spot. That may take a while.

July 9 - 13th

Saturday, July 9th (cont'd)

Bollywood

Hari picked Matt and I up from the guest house at 9:30 pm. I sat in the back seat while Hari, driving with one thumb constantly tapping the horn, played a game of chicken with the other drivers. There doesn’t seem to be any traffic cops here. Laws, red lights, lanes or courtesies don’t have a place in the game. The first driver there wins; it’s that simple. The honking is not to say that the other driver did something wrong. Everyone here knows it means, “I’m coming through here, move!” They are so much in the habit of constantly honking, they do it non-stop. Brandon said that if your horn stops working, your car is considered totaled. I believe it. It was a wild ride, but only compared to US standards. I must say that Hari’s reflexes are quite sharp and I felt perfectly safe.

We arrived at the club in Bollywood a little early; it didn’t open up until 11:30 pm. We went inside the hotel for an appetizer while we waited. Hari took care of getting us in; we were VIP stamped at the door. The dance floor was packed with patrons dancing to the beat of Hindi rock music. Since I can’t understand the words to most songs anyway, that didn’t matter. And Matt was gracious enough to translate some of the songs into English for me. He said his Hindi is getting pretty good after 3 months. He translated one song into “I want a Big Mac” and another into “If you really want to impress my family, bring a gallon of milk.” I guess I’m not going to learn the language from Matt.

We all had a great time. Matt and I were a bit of a novelty there. I’ve never been stared at so much in my life. Several of them spent the entire evening just watching my every move. Matt was kind enough to bail me out when one man was a little too delighted to see me. I think when I turned to him with that pleading look in my eyes, he had to help. And I may have threatened him a bit too. lol

One young man in particular was quite memorable. He waved his hand back and forth in a motion like a snake charmer, then circled it to point at himself as if he was trying to draw me in. I certainly didn’t mean to be rude or disrespectful, but I couldn’t stop laughing.

We were seated in an area that was sectioned off from the crowds, which gave me my escape from potentially being ‘hypnotized’ by the young Indian man. Matt and I shared some giggles over that one. Later in the evening as I was standing at the rail by our elevated seats, I look down and Mr. Snake Charmer is once again attempting to mesmerize me with his charms. Too funny.

We danced and partied until the club closed down. Matt disappeared to the restrooms so the rest of us waited in between the two exit doors. One man stopped to shake my hand and tell me he was so happy to meet me. I hadn’t met him. Lol

I had a lot of fun. I don’t really care for that level of popularity, but it was a great night.

Sunday, July 10th

After getting home at 4:30 am, I slept in today. I got a few things done at the house and decided to go to that wonderful grocery store. As I walked out into the heat, I started feeling a little queasy. I thought it was just the heat or me needing to eat. I stopped at the Spaghetti Kitchen for lunch. The food looked delicious, but unfortunately my tummy decided to revolt again. I took my lunch to go and decided to skip the grocery store. I was doing a pretty good job of self talk so I could hold down the water I drank. Mind over matter I told myself. I had the battle won until I walked past the smelly spot. Smelly spots trump self talk. I lost.

Monday, July 11th

I taught a Trade Plan class today. It was only 5 hours so I was finished by our normal 1:30 lunch. Before going home I went into the Palladium Mall to the new grocery store. I now have normal food: whole wheat bread, cranberry-pomegranate juice, Laughing Cow cheese. I’m happy about that.

Tuesday, July 12th

I taught class again today. Matt is leaving on Thursday, so we shared our last McD’s breakfast this morning. It has become a daily routine while the others take their regular ½ hour to eat the Indian food that the center brings in. I’ve learned not to eat Pappu’s breakfast because it’s followed by a trip past the smelly spot to get to work. By 9:30, McD’s egg and cheese muffin tastes pretty darn good. And it’s not spicey.

Wednesday, July 13th

I have the next 3 days off so I stayed at the apartment today to trade the Indian markets. My room is quite warm because the air conditioner has been out for two days. Pappu was cooking breakfast yesterday when I told him about it.
“One clock, fix” When I arrived home to find a hot room yesterday I called Pappu. “Tomorrow one clock, fix”
“No Pappu, I won’t be able to sleep. Can you fix it today?”
A few minutes later the doorbell rings. Pappu enters and picks up some things around the house and puts them away. He starts to leave and then says, “Tomorrow one clock, fix”.
At 3 o’clock today, I called Pappu.
“Tomorrow one clock, fix”. I’m glad it rained today and cooled down the air.

Priya graciously came by the house today to help me communicate with the help. I wanted to tell the maid that the kitchen is so dirty that I won’t use it. And I wanted Pappu to know that he didn’t need to continue to make fried eggs. It was awesome just being able to communicate with them. Priya is awesome.

The Bombings

Priya called this evening to let us know that three bombs had exploded in Mumbai and we should not go out. One was right behind her Dad’s office. She said he was fine, but he wasn’t able to leave the area. She was in her car. I got a text from her later; she and her Dad were both home safe. We were both glad we rescheduled dinner for tomorrow night.

As the news filtered in, I learned that the bomb explosions were very near us. One was 9 miles north, the other two were 3 and 5 miles south. The death toll has continued to climb the last few hours and I’m sure it will through the night. Right now 21 people are dead and 113 injured. I am praying for all of the innocent people (and their families) who were killed or hurt tonight. I haven’t been able to check on our OTA friends yet; the cell phone lines were over-loaded and we couldn’t make calls. Matt said he thought there was a PTW scheduled and all of them would be at the center working. Let’s hope so.

The news reports are saying it’s a terrorist attack. They are comparing it to November of 2008. They targeted business and shopping areas to the north and south of us. When I looked on a map, it appears they skipped right over the Palladium, one of the biggest malls in Mumbai. The guest house, Online Trading Academy and the Palladium Mall are all here in this compound. I had to run a few errands at the mall this afternoon. I arrived back at the house at 6:30 pm. The bombs all went off between 6:30 and 7 pm.

I’ve been asked if I still feel safe here. I do. Maybe I’ve lost my mind, but I’m not worried. This place still feels like it did yesterday, or the day before.

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My first few weeks...

Tuesday Night, June 28th

I arrived in India around 11 pm.  I walked the rows of drivers holding signs looking for my name.  I was met by two Education Counselors from the center.  Kapil went to hail a cab while Saurabh called Hari (the Education Director) so he could welcome me to India by phone.   All three of them were incredibly warm and friendly.  We drove in a rather small taxi through what had all the appearances of a war zone.  Decaying buildings with shanty shacks attached for the vendors lined every heavily littered street.  People slept on the street.  Drivers darted in and out without regard to traffic rules.  When we arrived at Phoenix Mills, 3 guards insisted we get out of the car but I was unaware of this.  I heard them speak in rapid Hindi and then Kapil opened my door for me to step out.  I barely got out of the car and we were immediately waived through. Brandon had mentioned that Americans are easily passed through security.


Matt, the other instructor greeted us at the door.  He was sleepy but welcoming.  The living room was nice, although various toys covered the floor, chairs and coffee table.  Kapil gave me a cell phone, made arrangements to pick me up the next day and left.  I went to my room to start unpacking.  Two twin beds were pushed together with mismatched comforters on the end of each one.  A window air conditioner with dust and dirt dripping from it hummed loudly beside the bed.  The bathroom sink had several toiletries left over from someone else, including a used bar of soap.  I don’t like to think that I’m picky, but I guess I am.  I didn’t want to lay my stuff down in there.  I found the Cottonelle wipes and rubber gloves (which were originally brought to protect a cut on my finger from the bacteria-filled water) and went to work.  When I was finished it didn’t look much different, but at least I knew it was clean. 

Finally around 3 am, I climbed into bed.  It was much firmer than I’m used to so I turned the light back on and padded it up with the comforters.  I had been warned about the honking horns and noise, but from the 21st floor, all I heard was the patter of raindrops on the air conditioner.  I slept for 6 1/2 hours straight. 

Wednesday, June 29

I woke up at 9:30 feeling pretty good.  I could barely hear Matt’s kids in the other room; the air conditioner drowns out almost all sounds.  I opened the curtains to let the light into the room from the wall of sliding glass doors.  There is a small balcony (about 2 feet deep) that stretches the length of the room and windows.  Cemented walls gave privacy from both sides.   The half wall in front was met by wire caging to cover the rest.  The view was of a decaying city with a lot of new construction underway. 

I noticed the dirty glass so I grabbed a wipe.  The dirt was on the outside so I stepped out onto the small balcony and went to work.  My handful of wipes had taken as much filth as they could hold.  It was only when I reached for the sliding door that I noticed it had automatically locked.  A wave of panic went through me when I realized there was no point in shouting because I could not be heard by those on the street nor by my roommates.  I knew I would be missed at 1 pm when they sent for me, but that was 3 hours away, and it was unbearably humid on that small balcony.  I pulled and tugged on the glass but this place was built for the war zone it stands in.  I tried the middle door; it was just as unmovable.  I reached for the last door and to my great delight, it was not locked. 

Once my heart settled down, I sat on the edge of the bed and chuckled at how I might have spent my first day in India.  The glass doors were now streaked with the lotion from the wipes but actually looked better.  I decided they were perfectly fine just the way they were.  I had no intention of tempting fate again.

I grabbed my robe and went out to meet Nut, Matt’s girlfriend.  She is a small Thai woman with a warm  smile.  The babies, Xavier and Sebastian were absolutely beautiful.  Curious chocolate brown eyes stared up at me.  I sat down to a breakfast that had been served 3 hours earlier.  I had to ask Nut what was on my plate.  She said they were fried eggs.  I sat them aside and opted for a piece of toast that had been wrapped in foil.  I nearly pulled my front teeth out trying to bite off a piece.  The next bowl contained little white half balls of something with the texture and color of wet bread.  They tasted ok, but not appetizing enough to eat.  The next item appeared to be cream of wheat but it was far from it.  I nearly gagged when it hit my mouth.  I reached for a box of cereal and added some warm milk to it.  Maybe just juice today.  It was green when I poured it into my glass.  The label claimed it was a mixture of fruit and vegetable juices.  Not where I come from.  Suddenly I was grateful for the extra time I spent juggling around my luggage to get it under weight, and refusing to pull out the 3 lb. jar of peanut butter and 4 or 5 lbs. of Shakeology.

I showered, doing my best to keep my mouth closed as instructed by others visiting here.  I realized I should have practiced that a bit at home.  Matt offered to walk me to the center rather than having someone sent for me.  We walked through the Phoenix Mills mall and he pointed out all the places he likes to eat and shop.  Matt is very friendly with a great sense of humor.

I was greeted by Rajesh, the owner who showed me around the center.  He was delightful and very welcoming.  Rajesh took me to lunch, along with Hari and Matt.  Rajesh ordered for all of us at the Copper Chimney.  We had a chicken dish with lots of Indian spices, paneer (kind of like fresh mozzarella cheese chucks) in a tomato sauce, a mint chicken dish and fish and eggs in a cream sauce.  I opted out of the last one but decided to be adventurous and try the rest.  I was dripping with sweat from the spices, but I didn’t care. The food was amazing and the company even better.
After lunch Giri (the IT guy) downloaded some software for my wireless card.  I called Jim from the Magic Jack phone and checked my e-mail.  I was surprised to find so many.  I’m used to reading them throughout the day on my phone.  I really miss my phone.

Priya called around 5 pm, but I was exhausted.  I passed on her showing me the town and decided to walk back to the mall to stay awake until at least 8pm.  Once I was alone walking, I was suddenly aware of the stares.  It wasn’t uncomfortable, just very noticeable.  I guess I do stand out in a crowd here.  I noticed the security guard waving his wand over each shopper.  I stopped when it was my turn, but the guard shook his head and waved me in.  I would not be scanned.

I went to order a Frankie (a wrap with various fillings) and settled on the bbq chicken.  I was informed that they didn’t have those on Wednesdays.  He listed the wraps available today but I couldn’t understand him.  I finally pointed to the one currently being made and ordered a Fanta to go with it.
As I walked back to my room, I was once again dripping wet from the spices.  Between that and the humidity here, I am not planning on any good hair days.

So far I would say that the wonderful people here cause you to overlook the humble living conditions. 

Thursday, June 30th

I woke up at 1 am and couldn’t go back to sleep so I decided to write a journal.

The clock was blinking 7:27 when I awoke again. I knew that if I were going to eat a hot breakfast, I will eat when Pappu cooks, and that’s at 7:30. Pappu is a very thin, young man with a huge smile. He says very little, but I know he doesn’t speak English. This morning he made fried eggs and pancakes. The eggs again looked as though someone stepped on them. I need to look up the word ‘scrambled’ in my Hindi book. The pancakes were thin, but tasty none the less. I added some ‘less than 2% maple syrup’ to them and they were even better. I made a mental note to shop for the other 98% of my syrup later today. The juice was orange and quite good (yesterday it was green). I asked Pappu for coffee with cream. He served it with a smile and a few words I didn’t understand. After he left, I warmed up some bottled water in the microwave and poured in my Starbucks instant and some warm milk that was intended for the cereal.

Mid morning I headed to the gym to work off some pancakes. Afterwards I attempted to climb the stairs; I made it up 6 flights. I’ll go for 7 tomorrow. In the afternoon I ventured out to find some lunch and the grocery store. I knew the grocery was across from McDonalds. After 2 days of Indian food, nuggets and fries sounded pretty good. I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense to go to the gym and then eat that but it was hot today and I just didn’t feel like sweating spices. Their McDonalds is almost like ours, with a few exceptions. The burgers are buffalo (cows are sacred here, so don't ask, "Where's the beef?"). They also have spicy paneer on the menu. And finally, this is the only McDonalds I've been in that had a guard at the door.

I headed over to the Big Bazaar with my short list in hand. My purse was searched at the door and I walked through a scanner similar to the airport. I didn’t think it would be too difficult to find basic items like coffee, cream, real syrup and peroxide (for the cut on my finger). Apparently peroxide isn’t sold at the grocery store and 2% maple syrup and Nescafe instant are as good as you can get. I wandered through isle after isle of foods I didn’t recognize. Ominous bags lined the shelves with anxious shoppers filling their carts with God knows what. I almost bought some Lays potato chips just because I recognized the package. After McD’s, I decided against it.

Forty minutes later I left with cream, baby wipes (for cleaning), a box of tissues (since I couldn’t find soft toilet paper) and paper towels (I plan to clean the windows…with a little more caution next time) and paper cups (for brushing my teeth with bottled water). So I paid 499 rupees (about $11) and headed out through security. With over 100 lbs of luggage, I don’t know why I couldn’t have fit in more of those little Starbucks instant packs and a couple rolls of Charmin. I remember seeing someone hauling a case of Kleenex through the airport. If there’s a next time, I’ll be the woman bringing a case of Charmin.

Today is Matt’s birthday so we went to the center for cake. I guess it’s an Indian tradition to rub cake all over someone’s face. Three of the guys from the center made sure he was completely covered. Xavier didn’t understand the attack on his dad. That’s the first time I’ve seen him cry. Afterwards Rajesh asked me if I had an upcoming birthday. I told him it was last month, but even if it was coming up, I’d never admit it now. A good time was had by all… except Xavier.

Matt, Nut, Xavier, Sebastian and I went out to a seafood restaurant called Gajalee. Once again, I melted from the spices, but it was delicious. We had 6 waiters; two of them carried around the children so Matt and Nut could eat. We walked through the mall and Nut and I spent some time in Aldo trying on shoes. I thought the prices were really amazing until I realized I was converting in my head wrong. So the prices are ok, but not amazing. I will carry my phone from now on; you can safely use it on airplane mode without fear of outrageous bills.

When we returned, I plugged something in and caused a complete blackout in the condo. Leave it to me. Matt said he thought it was just a random power outage. We lit candles and he checked the breaker box. Yep, it was me. In the 5 minutes it took to get the power back on, my room was sweltering.

Tomorrow I will venture out a little further.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Well I started the day with an onion omelet (it looked much better than the stomped on eggs).  Afterwards I did a workout in my room, walked down 21 flights of stairs to the gym, worked out on the equipment, and then met my goal of 7 flights back up.  In the afternoon I went over to Phoenix Mall for a little bit and picked up some things for the girls.  I was trying to find a gift for Priya, but it is very difficult to buy for someone you’ve never met.  Finally, I decided I would just take her out to dinner. 

I finally met this wonderful woman when her driver picked me up at 9 pm.  She is a beautiful, sassy, upbeat lady with a welcoming smile (the kind of person that everybody likes).  She had a friend with her.  Both ladies are Indian and both sound British.  They mentioned that they were convent raised to speak like that.  It’s great for me because I can perfectly understand every word.  We headed for a really nice private club.  I asked why there were photographers throughout the entire evening.  She said there were some pretty famous people there.  Apparently her face has landed on the society pages a few times.  I wish I had known that before I had posed with her several times. 

The party was nice with never-ending hor d’eurves and an open bar.  Priya has a magnetic personality and many friends, so we were surrounded by people the entire night.  One man stopped me while I was walking back from the ladies room and introduced me to his entire party.  They wanted to know where I was from, how long I was staying, etc.  I had never seen them before.  Friendly chaps.  Lol  And I was the only blonde at the party.  When it was time to leave, Priya told everyone we were going to the bathroom.  She said they would never let her leave so she had to sneak out.

Saturday, July 2, 20111

“Not pancakes, Indian food!”  I smiled back at Pappu and realized he planned to wait for me to try them.  I nodded my approval which thrilled him.  “Nice?  Yes?”  They tasted like potato pancakes with onion in them.  They were pretty good actually.  I smiled back and said, “Yes Pappu, very nice.  Thank you”.  It’s amazing how his face lights up with praise.  He had made a point to tell me he had a high school diploma earlier in the week.  I’m sure it’s very unusual for a servant to accomplish that.  I went overboard with praise.  “Coffee?”  “No coffee.  Thank you Pappu”.  Sweet, but he was really offering me Nescafe, which shouldn’t even be labeled coffee in my opinion.  I just found out there are no Starbucks here.  That might have been a deal breaker.  I also asked Priya’s friend where I could get a roll of Charmin.  Bad idea.  They don’t use toilet paper and this young lady has a staff to do her shopping.  She wasn’t arrogant at all; it’s just the reality here.

Matt and I walked to the center for the first day of class.   It is the largest class that OTA has ever had. I think there are around 45 people in there.  Each instructor has an assistant to help the students when they are working on Trade Tiger.  Indian people eat breakfast at 9:30 am.  Never mind that class had just started at 8:30.  The center ordered flatbread sandwiches which I couldn’t finish after Pappu’s “Indian Food”. 

The class was great; Matt is an excellent instructor.  He had originally planned to be a math teacher (I would have too if it paid more).  His style of teaching is almost identical to mine. It was a long day sitting still but I listened intently to every question.  It will take time for me to get past some of the heavy accents. 

I started a small dry cough which progressed throughout the day.  Xavier has the same thing.  Once he developed it, I stayed away, but I think it was too late by then.  Yesterday we spent about a ½ hour going through his machine book.  He took my finger and wanted me to touch each train, truck or airplane.  He’s only two, and his native language is Thai, but he is repeating a lot of English words.  I had a wonderful time with him, but I think I am paying for it now.

After class I took an antibiotic and Ambien and headed straight to bed.  The rain was hitting the air conditioner, making a really loud noise.  I pulled out my sleep phones and didn’t hear another thing until morning.    

Sunday, July 3rd, 2011

I woke up at 5 am with a fever (100.6).  

Monday, July 4th, 2011

Yesterday was a tough day.  Every time I took my temperature, it went up a degree.  100… 101… 102….  At 103.3 I got a little nervous.  If it continued to climb, who would I call?  Where would I go?  The travel clinic doctor gave me a strong antibiotic in case I become ill, but it wasn’t working.  I slept on and off, waking up with chills, then sweating.  Actually, pre-menopause somewhat prepared me for that part. lol  I felt a little better after talking to Marri, my daughter who is an RN.  I know that my family had ½ of the United States praying, and I’m sure He heard them because my temperature started dropping a degree each time I took it.  Today it’s normal.  Praise God.   It’s a little scary being so far away from home when you’re that sick.  I’m sure it was scary for my family too.  Knowing how I would feel, I decided to call my mom first thing this morning.  I think it made us both feel better.

This place is so crazy and amazing.  I am staying in Phoenix Mills, one of the nicer areas of Central Mumbai.  It is a well-guarded community with a paver-stone driveway, large ornamental gates, potted flowers and palm trees.  Marble floors cover the entry ways to each tower.  Young men wash the expensive cars while they sit in the basement garage.  Uniformed staff rush ahead to push the button to call the elevator for you.  Another man stands inside to push the button for your floor. 
In the US this place would be surrounded by buildings of similar kind and quality.  But in Mumbai, there doesn’t appear to be any zoning restrictions whatsoever.  Across the street from Phoenix Mills the houses appear unfit for anyone to live in.  They are worse than any slum I’ve ever seen in the US.  Buildings are dirty and decaying.  Tarps are haphazardly attached to create barriers from the scorching sun and monsoon rains.  The sidewalks are cracked and broken and heavily littered.

Online Trading Academy is right next door in the Phoenix Mills mall so I can usually cut through the back gates to get to work.  In the morning they don’t unlock them until 9 am so I have to go out on the street.  There aren’t any dumpsters here, so people throw their trash in a pile in the street.  Matt said if you come earlier you will see the rats and the poor going through it (I hope he was kidding, but I’m not so sure).  By the time I pass it, the city workers are shoveling it up.  The smell is horrific.   
You would think the people here would be unhappy.  It couldn’t be further from the truth. People on the street greet you with a warm smile.  They are kind and helpful.  The people at the center are even more amazing.  They go out of their way to make you feel welcome.  They are kind and considerate and their smiles are contagious.  My well-being seems to be a priority for them.

I took some pictures today on my way home from the center.  I’ve been reluctant to take any because I wasn’t sure of the rules.  The other day I took a few photos of Phoenix Mills Mall.  A guard took my camera from me and then watched to make sure I deleted each one.  I told him I didn’t know it wasn’t allowed so he was actually pretty nice about it.  I asked him where I could take pictures.  “Nowhere.  Security reasons.”  I wasn’t sure other guards on the street would be so kind, so I haven’t wanted to risk it.  After seeing the conditions on the street, I certainly wouldn’t want to find out what the inside of a jail cell might look like.  I talked to Priya today; she said I would be fine to take them outside of the mall.  It’s been wonderful having her here to answer all my silly little questions.

Despite the conditions, I’m getting comfortable being here.  That’s crazy and amazing. 


Happiness comes of the capacity to feel deeply, to enjoy simply, to think freely, to risk life, to be needed.-|Storm Jameson|

Tuesday, July 5th

I had a bit of a meltdown today, but somehow felt better afterwards.  I expected to easily adjust to this new environment, but I haven’t.  I’ve been longing for something to feel normal.  I guess I’d better start creating a new normal.

Wednesday, July 6th


“I make you omelet, yes?” 
“No thank you Pappu, my stomach is still a little sick,” I reply while putting my hand over my stomach to help him understand. 
“No dinner, no breakfast?” Pappu asks.  He’s noticed that I’m not eating (actually I eat pretty well during the day).  It’s amazing to me that this young man who has obviously drawn the short straw in life is still never without a smile.  Today I might have tested his patience a bit. 
“Do you know where the lint screen is?” I asked pointing at the washer/dryer combo in the kitchen. 
“They clean one clock.”
“No,” I say shaking my head, knowing he didn’t understand. I try to search for dust on the floor, but can’t find any.  The maid is absolutely meticulous about certain things.  You could eat off of the floors but not the counter tops.  After a few more attempts at miming lint screens and a dryer catching on fire, I headed to my room to get the Hindi book.  For some reason a book designed for travelers didn’t think you would ever need the word ‘lint’.  I returned to the kitchen and pointed to ‘dustbin’ in my little book since it was as close as I could get. 
“Good!” Pappu says smiling and pointing to the Hindi book.  “Good!” He is obviously delighted that I am attempting to communicate with him, but he still has no idea what I want him to do with the washer/dryer. 

I decide to try one more time.  “At home, in the US, we have a washer and a dryer” I say while miming the two separate units.   He nods.  I pretend to stand in front of the dryer that I have just created in the air.  As I mime pulling off lint from a lint screen, Pappu shakes his head.
“Yes! Yes, dryer…”  To my delight, he finally understands what I’m asking.  He nods and pretends to clean a lint screen to show me he understands.

I go back to the real appliance and wave my hands to show uncertainty.  “Where is it?” I ask, pointing.
“Oh, I doo know”

---Evening---

I walked along the small paver stone road heading home after a long day in class.  The street was packed, as usual with trucks trying to load or unload and drivers laying on their horns, anxious to at least roll forward a little bit.  Motorized scooters swing in between, taking full advantage of their ability to navigate the narrow street.  Pedestrians must dodge the scooters and cars while being honked at by drivers who don’t want to slow down.   Today I made my way through the traffic and walked briskly, trying to stay as close to the side of the road as possible.  A van passed so close that it actually hit the laptop bag I was carrying.   Normally I would have been in shock over such an event, but here it just didn’t stand out as being that extraordinary. I’m not sure if this is a sign that I am finally adjusting to this environment, or I have lost my mind.  lol

Afterwards, Matt, Xavier and I walked across the street to what appears to be a cross between a flea market, farmers market and the slums.  The crowds were beyond belief.  People were pressed together tighter than we see when the stadium is packed.  Three wheeled trucks, cars, scooters, bicycles and pedestrians fight to navigate through the heavy traffic.  Sidewalk shops carry everything from produce to rubber hoses.  Incense burns on a cart selling some unidentifiable fried food.  A young girl waits on an old wooden bench just inside of a ‘doctors’ office.  Rancid odors floated through the polluted air, with an occasional break from burning incense. The backdrop for this madness is row after row of apartments that appear unfit for humans. 

We turned down another street, but in front of each shop the streets are lined with individuals sitting on the ground selling a similar variety of wares.  Melons are cut open on display with flies feasting on the contents.  Potatoes are piled in front of one man.  Pots and pans are hung on a wall behind another. Still another has lettuce or peppers or mangos. 

Children with bare dusty feet shout to the crowds to promote their own business, while others in ill-fitted school uniforms make their way home.  Others follow along with their hand out.  Xavier stopped to pick out a toy from a blanket on the ground.  After checking out a few trucks, he finally settled on an airplane.

I struggled to take it all in, but my mind and eyes just couldn’t commit all of it to memory.  Everywhere I looked there was something I hadn’t seen before.  The entire trip lasted less than ½ an hour, but I left there somehow changed.  I hope I never forget that I am blessed beyond measure.

Thursday, July 7th

Life is good again.  I ran into Saurabh at the mall during lunch.  He asked if I’d been to the Food Hall.  I hadn’t heard of it so I walked with him to the most amazing (well compared to Big Bazar) new grocery store.  It’s clean and neat with things on shelves and they have deli counters and a bakery and Campbell’s soup and Ragu and all kinds of normal stuff!!  Wow.  I’m so happy about that. 

Friday, July 8th, 2011

Priya picked me up after class today and we headed to her apartment in northern Bombay.  We stopped at a liquor store on the way.  The other patrons were standing on the sidewalk (it’s a walk up liquor store), but they opened the gate for Priya and I and we were allowed to make our selections from behind the counter.  After she ordered, we returned to the car.  The charge slip would be brought to her and the wine was given to the driver.  This is a lady who lives a life of privilege and open doors.  She’s not haughty or arrogant; she’s actually very sweet with a big heart.  It’s just the way life is for her.

We shared a bottle of wine at her apartment before going to dinner.  Priya lives in a very nice 2 bedroom apartment that is beautifully furnished and very stylish.  Like most places I’ve seen, she has marble floors throughout.  Carpet doesn’t fare well here. 

A quick phone call and the driver picked us up for dinner.  As we pull into the Marriot, the car is searched and we are scanned.  After the incidents in 2008, security is heightened everywhere.  We had an awesome dinner at Spices, a wonderful restaurant that looks out over the water.  Priya doesn’t give her name at the hostess stand; they know who she is and where she prefers to sit.  I ordered a dirty Grey Goose martini, but something is different about the way they make them.  They taste lemony.  The food and wine were delicious and Priya is a delight to talk to.  Brandon called and I chatted with him for a bit too. 

Another phone call and her driver took us to a very elite club on the beach called Aurus.  This is where the stars and wanna-be stars hang out.  It’s a trendy, upbeat club that sits right on the water.  It’s normally an open air club, but with the monsoon rains they had a temporary roof installed.  Our final stop was the bar at Novotel.  This bar was not only beach-front but also pool-side.   Palm trees lined the perimeter with large couch-like lawn furniture outside.  We sat at the bar and had a few drinks before turning in for the night.

Priya’s guest room was a taste of home.  The soft, cozy bed was covered with a beautiful duvet and matching toss pillows.  The room was cool and dark; I slept until 11 am, which felt amazing. 

Saturday, July 9th, 2011

I woke to scrambled eggs and toast.  The driver had just delivered the fresh bread.  I ate every bite.  Afterwards, we were taken to the Sohum Spa and Wellness Sanctuary.  It was a taste of heaven.  We started off with a cool washcloth, slippers and a delicious cold tea.  Next we had the Native American Hot Stone massage, which is done with warm oil and hot volcanic stones.  A small oriental woman spent several hours pampering us and working out a lot of built up tension.  I left there feeling fresh and restored.  On our way out we were served fresh pineapple and hot tea. 

We had a nice lunch Bombay Baking Company before her driver took me back to the apartment.  On my way back I got a text from Hari: “It’s party time today.  Will pick you up by 9 pm from the Guest House.  Be ready for lots of fun and Bollywood.  We shall return by 3 or 4 am.  Have arranged a drop back at the guest house also.  Dress code: party wear…!!  Regards, Harikrishna”.

I’m off to another fun night.

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