Sunday, July 31, 2011

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:
 

Sunday, July 24, 2011

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.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

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.

Friday, July 22, 2011

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.

Monday, July 18, 2011

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.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

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.

Friday, July 15, 2011

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.