tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62537042627673508762024-03-07T23:47:11.218+05:30Bangkok nights and CG daysA kiwi goes from Los Angeles to Bombay to Bangkok!judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.comBlogger71125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-9124872947059908482009-05-05T20:26:00.008+05:302009-05-05T20:55:51.567+05:30found in translationToday was a public holiday and we decided to buy a little camera for easy quick shots. We want to document all the great food we eat and places we go on the spur of the moment, and the lovely big Canon is just too heavy to carry around most of the time. It's also currently under the weather with a broken lens. I don't know when we will get that fixed or how much it will end up costing, and we want to just be able to take quick shots every day. So... reviews indicated Sony Cybershot was the way to go and we headed to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pantip_Plaza">Pantip Plaza</a> to negotiate our way through the madness of a million shops. As well as electronics it's full of DVD stores selling illegal copies of movies, tv shows, games and software and we decided to pick up something from one store in a long line of them. Just after we collected our dvd's we saw a bunch of people running around frantically, pushing store fronts around and moving their merchandise behind the counter.. it was crazy, within a minute or two everything was moved and gone - a raid. Some cops must have been coming through and they all worked together to make sure nothing was showing. Very amusing. Lucky we got our dvd's in time!<br /><br />After getting the nifty new camera (and Sony is *not* cheap in Thailand), we went to Siam Paragon to go to a place we'd been drooling about all afternoon. The famous Oriental Hotel has little cafes in various places around the city, and the one at Paragon serves amazing food. The bread they serve is delicious.. Gagan was just waiting for it. He also ordered a Java Dream mocktail, while I had a green tea. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijAyZG3IE0dpfgNFES0Czu-9PBFtpF5ixEs0xcKLHD4JQMdcOyrRWpqK_9dMZWAgvJF62qiweFxBSd-bTZopbZe5TCA5GRrJVwSQMfpJhHvXJHRG9G-hwpha06mC1X5A9Rot-DsO7IaoM/s1600-h/din1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 140px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijAyZG3IE0dpfgNFES0Czu-9PBFtpF5ixEs0xcKLHD4JQMdcOyrRWpqK_9dMZWAgvJF62qiweFxBSd-bTZopbZe5TCA5GRrJVwSQMfpJhHvXJHRG9G-hwpha06mC1X5A9Rot-DsO7IaoM/s200/din1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332357230926470498" /></a><br /><br />My sandwich was the mouth watering garlic ham and smoked mozzarella with a side salad (balsamic vinegrette - my fav!) and the most amazing baked garlic. The whole garlic bulb is sliced at the top and baked so that each clove becomes juicy and melty like mashed potatoes. Yum!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY4yXyBFRjVhV-a2btIK2FR9ISJiixUWPyhVno3GjGmNlI3dFpAiVlufjTHS82Bh2LHqR2mMZbQEwI8ofxAjYE-5cm0uNxaGcfuiu_0LPRW_rtsEvKdYZrPfErFRkGR9DYNl_MRNqXelI/s1600-h/din2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY4yXyBFRjVhV-a2btIK2FR9ISJiixUWPyhVno3GjGmNlI3dFpAiVlufjTHS82Bh2LHqR2mMZbQEwI8ofxAjYE-5cm0uNxaGcfuiu_0LPRW_rtsEvKdYZrPfErFRkGR9DYNl_MRNqXelI/s200/din2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332358162242317250" /></a><br /><br />Gagan ordered a roasted chicken and hummus pita wrap. It came with little side dishes and fries. Everything perfectly presented and blends of flavours so nicely balanced.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj17Q7Zu06KxTDLzV-bdTyaSVUh04H05hyLLGLwDrXg8k4G5aZDSnloMm7LxZQOpwBzolijmO4ss_ByVXUW2Mm5gcVGJpBeUHvNBZ6Dr03bjVkooBBFqkYIfIctSNHsDRLi_-axHm_LYFk/s1600-h/din3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 198px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj17Q7Zu06KxTDLzV-bdTyaSVUh04H05hyLLGLwDrXg8k4G5aZDSnloMm7LxZQOpwBzolijmO4ss_ByVXUW2Mm5gcVGJpBeUHvNBZ6Dr03bjVkooBBFqkYIfIctSNHsDRLi_-axHm_LYFk/s200/din3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332358934813950066" /></a><br /><br />I'll leave you with this. When we bought the camera, they talked us into getting a protective film on the LCD screen. As they were putting it on, I picked up the packaging and had a quick look at it. I think it takes the prize as the best ever translation. I really have no idea what they were *trying* to say. I leave it to you. This is what caught my eye straight away. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXqAruFZSLXidrAfIu65oS143KaliOChRZvUGjc3HJUBhoFyR-TM83OMoD7THDj8zCmsSQEI3HOoORt9rWQw1jUtttO2w9oPrMAmEj7rTE2xzLL7qQZs1etEP495oAxELVPT0u_4Jl_6w/s1600-h/fuckCU.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 81px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXqAruFZSLXidrAfIu65oS143KaliOChRZvUGjc3HJUBhoFyR-TM83OMoD7THDj8zCmsSQEI3HOoORt9rWQw1jUtttO2w9oPrMAmEj7rTE2xzLL7qQZs1etEP495oAxELVPT0u_4Jl_6w/s400/fuckCU.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332360988413829602" /></a><br /><br />If you would like to enjoy the entire document in all its glory... read away!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyeJozRkkmtsuT-mxLwtX7lA5PYode8_CUtwDaz-PG8o_x6gXYzgGePdnbuBnucuDrwUvzagC7TFHa6IAl_1WR8vtQBvtbHL_jmOBXbsRbUZCbeupUvNGjsvzmgui1qwLMK4FnuDUCrvs/s1600-h/fuck.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 128px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyeJozRkkmtsuT-mxLwtX7lA5PYode8_CUtwDaz-PG8o_x6gXYzgGePdnbuBnucuDrwUvzagC7TFHa6IAl_1WR8vtQBvtbHL_jmOBXbsRbUZCbeupUvNGjsvzmgui1qwLMK4FnuDUCrvs/s200/fuck.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332361291442456258" /></a>judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-58467883452810371422009-05-05T09:36:00.003+05:302009-05-05T09:45:42.161+05:30feliciano's kitchen caperLast night as I went to wash some dishes and make a cup of tea after such a good meal... I had a close call in the kitchen. A small visitor dropped by and he almost didn't make it out alive! Feliciano the gecko scuttled out from under a dish in the sink and began to panic. He ran down the plug hole - came back out, tried to get up the side of the sink and failed and ran around and down the plug hole again. I was frantically turning off the tap, grabbing dishes and trying to make sure I didn't flush him down. He was positively minuscule! A wee little guy... very tiny and fragile. I finally got him out of the sink but he jumped onto the floor and ran around like a banshee. We got him onto some paper and through a hole in the wall to the safety of the outside. Phew... it was craziness! We did manage to get one picture of him in the middle. Very sweet little thing he was... I bet he's telling all the other lizards about his caper right now. He is *very lucky*! <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUFG3aGpAawBmLmLzsjfeX3FH-mmxMKUONJDl5gt1UjPCuXQpzB_paUyLAVzZGox7-j-GVE2EzmyeeeixX5TYstLHd0tJCAbRhk79UfAyUgZY_QsP86mmwhiKzpdvPePGpucH7uUC9VTg/s1600-h/liz.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUFG3aGpAawBmLmLzsjfeX3FH-mmxMKUONJDl5gt1UjPCuXQpzB_paUyLAVzZGox7-j-GVE2EzmyeeeixX5TYstLHd0tJCAbRhk79UfAyUgZY_QsP86mmwhiKzpdvPePGpucH7uUC9VTg/s320/liz.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332188627569828866" /></a>judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-37782412835380794462009-05-04T18:38:00.008+05:302009-05-04T20:07:57.846+05:30two for oneI got to fulfill two dreams today. Both entirely unrelated and both very satisfying. Firstly we got Gagan's Thai resident visa... he is now able to stay in Thailand as long as I am and no longer has to keep returning to India. To say we are relieved is like that old thing about bears and what they do in the woods. Yes... we are! He can now be here happily. He can travel in and out of the country. He can (and this is a biggie folks) apply for visas to other countries *from* Thailand... which means not having to deal with the bureaucracy of Indian visa applications *anymore*. The enormity of that one is bigger than I can describe here... but any Indian who has had to go through the inhumane humiliation of filing a visa application in their own country will know what I'm talking about. Thailand may have its own share of red tape but it is far more straightforward and we can really see the horizon ahead. We might even be able to plan some trips as tourists... what a concept!<br /><br />Oh yes... the other dream? That has a little history behind it. Now I'm not going to pretend it has quite the weight of a visa to it... but my stomach will probably argue its importance in the Comestible History of Jude, placing it solidly in the top 5 or 6 top meals of the last 40 years. Nothing to be sneezed at certainly! So - the history behind the post. Years ago in Los Angeles I came across a book called <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Untangling-My-Chopsticks-Culinary-Sojourn/dp/0767908511?tag=particculturf-20">Untangling My Chopsticks</a>. It's a pretty incredible journey of a woman going to Kyoto to learn the ancient art of tea kaiseki... which at the time I had never even heard of. I am a *big* Japanese food lover and her detailed descriptions of these small delicate dishes of seasonal ingredients perfectly prepared and artfully presented sent me mad with desire. I searched Chowhound for kaiseki restaurants all over the greater LA area but there didn't seem to be anything. I just had to put it at the back of my mind and hope that one day I'd get to Japan. <br /><br />So a couple of weeks ago we're leaving our favourite ramen noodle shop on Thong Lor, a major street in our area so densely packed with eateries you don't know where to start. Ramen is wonderful... those soothing japanese noodle soups just like in Tampopo <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiT9TjV75ski-_hgulQA-fk7Hp4G9RrXGyjwbAG-vLVX5zO_o8ph-Fw6LiD0Z6_nRQcwg0iMyZ99EG02FF-1fY8OzHMb8nfqVV_fQ8lPET-jX_7XQ8UhHwRcVvDHwRYwhmVLofxWrKUQQ/s1600-h/tampopo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 115px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiT9TjV75ski-_hgulQA-fk7Hp4G9RrXGyjwbAG-vLVX5zO_o8ph-Fw6LiD0Z6_nRQcwg0iMyZ99EG02FF-1fY8OzHMb8nfqVV_fQ8lPET-jX_7XQ8UhHwRcVvDHwRYwhmVLofxWrKUQQ/s200/tampopo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331974766582686386" /></a>(you know "poke the pork") which if you haven't seen and you like food, drop everything and rent it *right now*. We're full and satisfied, even though it is raining cats and dogs and we are getting drenched. We can't get a cab to save our lives so we just keep walking up the street... walking walking.. wetter and wetter. Suddenly, a little side lane shows up and the dark wooden entrance to a restaurant appears. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaukqLQDsXhAzT7G5XjHV9M6Ou6KsfqdssgN2w-NzlhwdTbKN9mszKBsYuG-fB9ZOj2xPtBL1CqPVE9UE7RE-sVx_WH6HJd-JA5qo02Nd3oBsEJ6Sr6Mfr1x2obg5QfxXzs_Sw3Fh6c-k/s1600-h/marup01.gif"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 120px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaukqLQDsXhAzT7G5XjHV9M6Ou6KsfqdssgN2w-NzlhwdTbKN9mszKBsYuG-fB9ZOj2xPtBL1CqPVE9UE7RE-sVx_WH6HJd-JA5qo02Nd3oBsEJ6Sr6Mfr1x2obg5QfxXzs_Sw3Fh6c-k/s400/marup01.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331975374096245682" /></a><br />Covered by noren, the japanese curtains, it looks different to all the other places we've seen.. and it's out of the way and looks fancy and authentic. I think at the same time I see it I also see the sign... Maru Kaiseki! <br /><br />Getting a visa seems more than enough reason to go out for a nice meal. I knew from poking about the net that Maru was not going to be cheap, but today was a good reason to go. We didn't know if we'd get a table but we got there early and had about 200 women in kimonos welcoming us.. okay okay... I am prone to exaggeration. There were maybe nine or ten. The recession has hit Bangkok and tourism is down, so high end restaurants are very glad to get business. They seemed very happy to see us - no reservations needed!<br /><br />The menu was all pictures - which was lucky as we took ages to choose and it was hard enough with a very big choice. Everything arrived looking just like its photo and tasting quite sensational. We started with something traditional - some hamachi, or amberjack which was beautifully presented in a handmade bowl over ice and seaweed. The fish was fresh and firm and tasted... perfect. <br /><br />Next was a delicate bowl of micro thin sliced radish, cucumber, onion and seaweed with lemon all soaked in a small pool of a soy vinegar liquid. The star of the dish was juicy fingers of snow crab which also soaked up the tangy vinegar, a flavour that brought out the sweetness of the crab and gave a burst of cool freshness in your mouth. The sauce was light and not too acidic to be overpowering - it all worked together so well that all we could do was look at each other and raise our eyebrows in surprise. <br /><br />From the same menu group was an unusual dish that also had us nodding in agreement. Yam with sea urchin (uni) and vinegar. The yam was a white variety, it seemed raw and crunched like an apple. With very little flavour, it mostly provided a textural difference to the soft and slimy uni that was some of the best I've tasted. It was sweet and tasty, still with the hint of the beach. Gagan had never tried it before and this was a good way to start. Microslices of nori (dry seaweed) was piled on top and proved to be very hard to pull apart with small pieces of uni and slices of yam. Not an easy dish to share, but tasty none the less.<br /><br />The next dish was unexpectedly good. We wanted some vegetables and ordered asparagus. They came looking like something you would want to decorate your house with. So perfectly made and smelling so tasty! Two rows of about 7 stalks each - lightly fried in some yummy batter not unlike tempura, but all over the bottom half were stuck little golden rice crackers - perfectly round balls - about 2mm wide. Being fried, the whole thing now held together like a little bamboo wall and they looked as well as smelled, wonderful. Dipped in the small dish of salt the effect was pretty spectacular. <br /><br />Two more courses to come. The next to me seemed like the ultimate dish. Japanese comfort food meets Top Chef. It's hard to believe such tastes could come from such a simple dish. On the bottom, almost like a crab cake, a patty of mashed potato - a yellow potato like a Yukon Gold - mixed with tiny pieces of cucumber and minced shrimp. The potato cooked to be warm and golden on the outside. On top of that a perfectly cooked piece of salmon - to look like a giant piece of nigiri sushi - the salmon moist and melting in the mouth. On top of *that* a meringue of whipped egg white, cooked to perfection and atop that... nestled in to the foam of eggs... giant orange salmon roe. Every bite just exploded with flavour. The roe would burst a little bubble of salt water to top off all the other tastes and the mix was just amazing. It was warm and comforting and fancy and familiar even though I've never had anything like it. Genius!<br /><br />Lastly, in a bowl of his own, one giant ball of happiness. Well, pumpkin actually. The size of a baseball. The pumpkin was mashed and had big pieces of scallop and giant shrimp hidden away inside, then lightly fried and placed in the bowl with slightly sweet gloopy sauce that had a little tang to it, drizzled and poured over it. A strong onion was cut into thin slivers and placed on top. Simple... and delicious. <br /><br />It was a perfect meal. We were not too full and we enjoyed every single bite. An excellent way to celebrate a visa and a great introduction to kaiseki. The menu at Maru is large, and our appetites are endless, so I expect we'll be back to try more. Maybe next time we'll take some photos. For now though, I think it's time for some tea and putting my feet up. A good day :)judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-57564579844893767942009-05-03T10:24:00.000+05:302009-05-03T10:26:23.570+05:30illusive museSo I’m watching Elizabeth Gilbert give a TED talk on inspiration and the illusive muse, and it makes me think about how often I am struck to write at a time I can *never* actually put pen to paper.. or fingers to keyboard in my case. It’s always the middle of the night when insomnia bites, or worse, sitting on the loo, when the most prosaic little bit of prose pops into my tiny noggin and starts wobbling about, taking form and adding adjective after adjective. Sometimes I’ll be talking to someone and a thought comes to mind… something I would love to capture. Too late… it’s come and gone. When I sit down later it turns into a flat and boring essay, stale bread and moldy cheese. I leave dejected and don’t come back to the writing table for a long time. What causes it? why is the timing always off? Why are my energies so out of balance?<br /><br />My thoughts turn to my Mum. In the last few years she has started to write. She always did, but it’s become something serious and amazing. She started with amusing poems, somewhat in the style of Roald Dahl. I can see them as large books in a children’s library with wonderful illustrations and tongue twister rhymes. Since then she has gone on to tender and delicate haiku and all sorts of various short stories and essays. She’s not a mother, a wife, a manager… she’s a writer… a *good* one… a prolific one too.<br /> <br />Her discipline makes me think I should be more determined. Elizabeth Gilbert talked about how creative people are internally tortured and scared of the constant possibility of rejection. I don’t consider myself creative, but I do want to write for my own satisfaction. It doesn’t matter if what you write is good, bad or indifferent, as long as something has made it out from inside the vacuum. If I can grab one bit of these things as they come into focus and dance out again it will be worth it.judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-90156434294275086972009-05-01T19:59:00.006+05:302009-05-01T22:04:38.769+05:30one night in bangkok and the world's your oysterWe seem to spend so much time smiling now. Sometimes I think I am going to burst from smiling so much… big goofy silly smiles. It’s good and nice and I’ll admit I think we deserve it. There was a time when I never thought I would smile again. You partner up a bad situation with depression and you have a cocktail that is enough to knock out even the toughest prize fighter. It’s hard to describe what depression can do… how its icy tendrils latch onto your innards and just zap all your ability to cope, to fight back, to move forward through the mirk. I was painfully aware that it was brain chemistry gone awry, I knew it and recognised the symptoms, but couldn’t change it or fight it… just sank deeper and deeper. The best I could do was close my eyes and hold on to Gagan… I didn’t think I would get out of it.<br /> <br />Never say never, though. We’re in Bangkok living a very treasured and lucky life. With a lot of work and support my fibromyalgia is getting under control and I am starting to lead a reasonably normal life again - for the first time in .. well, lets not go there. The depression has disappeared as suddenly as it arrived - high tailing it on that express bus out of town to some unknown destination that I hope is far far away. I know it has my number though. I’m on the lookout. But I’m medicated and prepared - you wanna fight, then meet me at high noon at the OK Corral baby, I’m ready for anything! Well… I think so… ;)<br /><br />Our days go something like this - we walk to the main road and catch the tiny little green bus to work. It’s a hurtling crazy whirlwind of a ride. For 6 1/2 baht each (about 18 US cents) we spend 5 minutes holding on to the ceiling hand rails as the driver swings the bus from lane to lane Formula1 style. Just getting on is a challenge as there is a reluctance to stop so you jump on and hold on for dear life as one foot may still be hanging out the door as the dinky wee bus takes off at speed and you’re away! It’s a hoot and a miracle we make it off alive each day. We joke about doing a ‘jump, tuck and roll’ to get off.. and are always a bit breathless as we get to the pavement.<br /> <br />After a fun day at work, we wander back to the main street, pass by lots of street food vendors and climb the overpass to cross the road. Resisting the mango and sticky rice stall is always hard. Has to be one of our most favourite things to eat here… mangoes that are sweet and juicy and plump, and sweet sticky rice with coconut milk and toasted lentils to sprinkle over the top.. the combination of tangy fruit, sweet rice, and crunchy salt all making for a delectable mouthful. The Thais are masters of these blends of flavours, and we are their willing guinea pigs.<br /><br />We take a cab home. The traffic is always really heavy and the 5 minute morning ride takes anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour or more. The cabs are amazing. Mostly very new and comfortable (lemony fresh scents and sometimes all pink seats with Hello Kitty <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4C-IlIrRPUwfqCzLhC648g9SqVWQy4QOWtJ8S4gG0xcr60vqTVrdsifzkbkTxyx7D2-P8pLGs7TKBVJgdw4BxOR81nWhFdBHjBpJ3Nb_ihwgNEOasHiJ4J2MMIxdZtiGKMPFdr7t6byo/s1600-h/cars.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 248px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4C-IlIrRPUwfqCzLhC648g9SqVWQy4QOWtJ8S4gG0xcr60vqTVrdsifzkbkTxyx7D2-P8pLGs7TKBVJgdw4BxOR81nWhFdBHjBpJ3Nb_ihwgNEOasHiJ4J2MMIxdZtiGKMPFdr7t6byo/s320/cars.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330863469876545330" /></a>*everywhere*!) and they come in every colour of the rainbow. Predominantly pink (eecks, my nightmare), I have to say it really brightens up the streets of Bangkok to see all the colourful cars - purple, green, yellow, blue. An explosion of colour…. a fiesta. And the congestion is considerable. At peakhour it is like any major city at its worst, with hundreds of motorbikes and scooters whizzing through the stalled cars at high speed. But after 2 years of the chaos of India, where you sometimes feel your brain will explode from the constant assault of noise on the road, it is so quiet here it’s almost eerie. In LA there was always a honk or two, but here it’s deathly quiet. No one is impatient, everyone is polite and calm and just waits their turn. We have never seen anything like it. Refreshing is hardly the word for it. Mindblowing might be a little closer!<br /><br />Having no cooking facilities in our kitchen, we have to eat out every night. This is pretty common in Thailand… and taking a look at the City of Food (as I have officially renamed Bangkok) it’s not a surprise. The entire place is just all about foooooood. My kinda town! So we come back to our little ‘settlement’ which is mostly known for really cool looking nightclubs and bars, and go to one of the restaurants. I am happy to say Thais love their Japanese food as much as I do, and there seem to be one Japanese restaurant per head of population. Perfect! There is Thai food we can bring home - freshly made to order and so tasty. Most of it costs just over a dollar. We basically eat Thai or Japanese every night and our minds and hearts are happy, our bellies full and our clothes not big enough anymore.<br /> <br />The weather is at its hottest right now. The high 30’s every day (that’s near 100 for those not ‘metricated’ yet) and very humid and heavy. Sometimes big clouds gather, erupting in brilliant and violent storms of thunder and lightning and heavy rain that flood, and then stop after half an hour. The view from our 8th storey apartment is wonderful. The heat keeps us inside a lot. But as I am getting healthier it makes us start to plan our weekends and getting out to see more of Bangkok again. The city comes alive at night, looking like an alternative Blade Runner, one where the apocalypse didn’t happen. We have so much we want to see and do. Every bit is precious and we feel alive and happy and lucky. You *can* go from the ridiculous to the sublime apparently… and that is why we smile!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNjMmZlOgFggSFmVgAMbNcoO-spypLP2nlu9MTG63VRyinWy3CFt9w_sM2bgq796e9loBtjLpV2VgRGSj04WRdnDcERIVf3hdu_z7VFQAwEjoMrlPjWKSvfCjx0a9QfBKShNK4i6k9axs/s1600-h/room.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNjMmZlOgFggSFmVgAMbNcoO-spypLP2nlu9MTG63VRyinWy3CFt9w_sM2bgq796e9loBtjLpV2VgRGSj04WRdnDcERIVf3hdu_z7VFQAwEjoMrlPjWKSvfCjx0a9QfBKShNK4i6k9axs/s320/room.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330863763553021058" /></a>judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-50320689610883480352009-02-22T09:51:00.002+05:302009-02-22T09:55:53.413+05:30last day[I wrote this on January 11th 2009 - but we had no internet at the hotel. Just realised it should really be posted!]<br /><br />***<br /><br />It seems only fitting that my last day in India should begin with stomach pains and a running arse. It’s a condition that was so common for such a long part of my journey here, and although, gratefully, I can say it hasn’t plagued me so much in the last few months, it’s almost like the last little farewell from a disliked friend who has been allowed to hang around too long. It seems fitting.<br /><br />So the early hours of our last morning have been spent in considerable discomfort, sequestered in the loo with Tony Perrottet’s Pagan Holiday reminding me of all the long lost passions I have with the ancient world, and lying in bed with Gagan reading out loud Bill Bryson’s jaw dropping inspiring A Short History of Almost Everything. As I try to ignore the combination of unhappy enzymes and gases wreaking havoc in my lower intestines, he throws morsel after tasty morsel (oh perhaps I shouldn’t talk of food) of fascinating information about physics, astronomy, geology and all things scientific, and my little brain happily boggles away. If you have to be feeling pukey, this is probably the ideal way to do it! There is something very reassuring about rediscovering your utter insignificance in the universe, and also the sheer amazing coincidence that you are here at all. As we go about our day to day lives (and right now there has been very little ‘day to day’ about our particular lives at all) it’s nice to know the problems aren’t really that important, and our movements are simply part of the giant machine of the universe going through its motions. The infinite hugeness and infinite tininess that exists around us is very comforting. All those self important idiots that have made my life hell don’t matter at all! What a pleasant thought.<br /> <br />It’s not quite imaginable yet that today can really be the ‘it’ day. Certainly it’s going to take quite some time for that to sink in. I need to have a fair amount of distance, both space and time, to get India out of my clogged and polluted system. Not to mention rewashing all those clothes that have soaked up the horrible moldy smell in the cupboards just from being in Bombay for months after the monsoon. We all need a good long soak I think. A ritual cleansing. <br /><br />Meanwhile, there are noises of the hallway being washed, distance voices talking in that cranky way that so many Indians have. Probably simply discussing breakfast or if they’ve put out the garbage, but the tone and delivery would be enough to cause any american business meeting to rapidly dissolve into a decidedly ugly shouting match with much finger pointing and vein bulging. No time spent on the niceties here. <br />Gagan is still asleep. My nausea is increasing. Perhaps it’s time for another trip to the loo with Tony’s book in tow. It’s alright.. I’m simply shuffling a few zillion atoms around. ;)judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-58842473542305986212008-11-27T23:49:00.002+05:302008-11-27T23:54:44.653+05:30black dayIt's 26 hours since the terrorist attacks on Bombay started. They're still going. At least 125 people are still inside the Trident/Oberoi Hotels.. with several terrorists holding some hostage. There are fires in those hotels. The beautiful Taj is on fire in the dark and has been repeatedly blown up all day. 9 or 10 other places around the south of the city including the famous Leopolds have been attacked.<br /><br />So far, 125 people are dead and 257 injured. Those numbers are sure to increase once this is over. <br /><br />It has been a very ...<br /><br />well...<br /><br />a terrible day. <br /><br />Surreal scenes.. watching and watching. Places we used to go all the time. Would have been in a day or two. Memories now.judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-68462140468544666642008-11-25T00:03:00.002+05:302008-11-25T00:59:08.729+05:30lost and foundSix months.<br /><br />Six months since I wrote last. I considered starting a new blog, but that might have been disingenuous. Tonight I looked over this for the first time in more than 6 months, and it brought back so many emotions. <br /><br />I'm a different person now. I feel a lot older, rougher around the edges, lucky for having had it all, but not the same. That was then, this is now. <br /><br />The oh-so-sweet stuff? We got hitched. Although I'm less inclined than I used to be to say things happen for a reason, I know I got what I truly needed by coming to India. A person to share the rest of my life with. All I need eh? :) <br /><br />I am sad that I didn't continue blogging way back when. I didn't write about it at the time because a lot more was involved. The managers at the company I worked for had problems with my blog. It rather astounded me - so much for freedom of speech! I wasn't told 'you can't blog' ... but many harsh and painful things were said that made it not a good time to continue. I regret that now... I should have just kept writing. But hey, you can't change the past, and more importantly, when surrounded by ignorance, jealousy and idiots, the most honourable thing to do is stand up for what you believe in, not bow down and let them dominate you. But I caved thinking my career was at stake. It's good to have that far behind me now and to not be faced with those people any more. I hope I have learned to see through lies a little more clearly in the future at least!<br /><br />For now it's onwards and upwards. Though the dream of India is perhaps lost behind the cloud of its reality, I know that in time I will learn to love it in new ways. I was never so naive to not see all the negative as well as the good. But I was experiencing it in that lucky way that tourists and business travelers do... a bubble of colour and convenience and being taken care of. The real India is less careful with its inhabitants. Perhaps the good thing is it has made me realise what I do care about in my own culture so I can return and value that once again. <br /><br />I can remember what I used to see - I still see that sense of wonder and joy in other travelers. But now I feel worn by the everyday things - poverty, corruption, the lack of care for the desperately poor, no hygiene, sexism, apathy, and vast cultural differences I struggle to understand. I'm about to turn 40 and I know I am less mellow with age instead of more. Hmph... that's not quite what I expected. Not how I was writing a year ago! But I think India can push you to extremes. She is not an easy landlord. <br /><br />So... there is the India I have lost and the India I have found. The country that used to soothe me which is now gone, and the Indian who took my hand and walks beside me on this once lonely journey. I was lost, then found. <br /><br /><br />One little note: So many of my friends are Indians. I know they will be very disappointed at my feelings. It's not nice that many westerners come to India and only see the hardships here, so I know they really enjoyed my delight in all things Indian. But it is hard to be stuck between two cultures (just ask Gagan!). The longer I am here the more I find the natural instincts I grew up with are just too different and don't make sense here. Things I perhaps found quaint before, now seem stifling. I can only see things through my western interpretation, and I know I need a balance of my world as well. I will always love India.. just in a different, more realistic way. I hope you can forgive me for that.judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-42007655592364676702008-04-07T11:35:00.010+05:302008-04-07T12:08:48.306+05:30the cat's meowI haven't blogged in a while.. which irks me a bit. I thought at least I'd post a few photos. If you ever wonder about how cats adapt to life on the other side of this spinning ball.. then check these out. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaac5oSRp-lp3D-TwhHgaG6cBDHzA5Yfm-DaMr8Rqe08V61Bftq6xiJtJ6vZE1mrDcEYOBC18O5lW1crW7qZrB5Y6nYDOGDDCEFxgQ291RxWIvc6wdXxOmCsy8yi45yH4eXr-aY-6zlhI/s1600-h/pip1.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaac5oSRp-lp3D-TwhHgaG6cBDHzA5Yfm-DaMr8Rqe08V61Bftq6xiJtJ6vZE1mrDcEYOBC18O5lW1crW7qZrB5Y6nYDOGDDCEFxgQ291RxWIvc6wdXxOmCsy8yi45yH4eXr-aY-6zlhI/s320/pip1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186384488327561058" /></a><br /><br />Pippin on a sleeping Kaustubh .... she'll climb on anyone!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZOQmyG0aHGeQan-_jMVtyz7Ne8Vpm-I9mHHInvHfNQjac0fDteq-ZELE2bJMQAMFrKG3DBTrb8AlyGfM7x0_fykdb2zJs1W4N5pwvnBgF4Kpu8hj_dPkZ9McbYxqiK9kHBn646w-a2Q/s1600-h/pip2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZOQmyG0aHGeQan-_jMVtyz7Ne8Vpm-I9mHHInvHfNQjac0fDteq-ZELE2bJMQAMFrKG3DBTrb8AlyGfM7x0_fykdb2zJs1W4N5pwvnBgF4Kpu8hj_dPkZ9McbYxqiK9kHBn646w-a2Q/s320/pip2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186389002338189202" /></a><br />Pippin and Kaustubh again... he barely had a chance to get comfy.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5IHLnA-mlxZhfXkIWLW8B4vqRaIAHvWHxO7MMvzlZQhjiIH9la4HHT5ayF_qICjlG9B5SmKMt0DQoXxlLlrGNJBJZLGi84JCY5OWbylG04aWWVZ0pApOmpVRhAQTfqnwFsxypW2L2jKE/s1600-h/tufty1.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5IHLnA-mlxZhfXkIWLW8B4vqRaIAHvWHxO7MMvzlZQhjiIH9la4HHT5ayF_qICjlG9B5SmKMt0DQoXxlLlrGNJBJZLGi84JCY5OWbylG04aWWVZ0pApOmpVRhAQTfqnwFsxypW2L2jKE/s320/tufty1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186385828357357442" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...and Tufty... who was NEVER a lap cat, blissfully on his idol Gagan.<br /><br /><br />Apart from a slightly unfortunate flea episode (the lil blighters are exterminated now!) life is pretty peachy for these pampered purries. Imported food, 18 hours a day of sleeping ... and many people adoring them. What more could you ask for!judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-46816955769726689072008-03-25T09:58:00.003+05:302008-03-26T19:46:51.090+05:30theory of relativity ...So what would you do for $100? I mean in the work-for-a-living sense. I suspect it seriously depends on who you are and where you are reading this from. If you're one of the fortunate few sitting behind a computer in LA working on visual effects shots for the next blockbuster - you'll probably say you'd work for 2-3 hours. If you're working one of two jobs washing dishes and busing tables in Kentucky... it might take you 17 hours of hard labour. And chances are you're not reading this coz you can't afford a computer or the internet.... <br /><br />But let's get relative here. How about in India? Now the tables have turned a little... and my western mentality (and western pay packet) find it a little harder to wrap the synapses around these things. I mean, I know people have to scrimp and scrape over rupees on the mean streets... but there is an example where it pops into my living room and I know my pals and I see this very differently.<br /><br />OK... lets cut to the chase. We have a maid. Firstly, this is NOT something normal for me coming from the west. It didn't sit right for quite a while... but I've gotten used to it - largely because she is an awesome, lovely, unique, wise, caring, funny woman who is easy to spend time with. She comes 6 days a week, for a couple of hours. She cleans the bathrooms, makes the bed, washes the dishes, hangs out and folds away clothes, cleans all the floors, tidies and cleans up everything.... and cooks! Can you imagine? she cooks! I remember my friends and I in LA dreaming about what it would be like to have someone cook for you ... big smoking pipe ain't-no-chance-in-hell-*that*'ll-ever-happen dreams! Not a chance unless we suddenly found ourselves in possession of a LOT of dough! But here I am suddenly, living a truly charmed life.. being cooked for, cleaned up after and fussed over. And for this... we pay her $100 a month (depending on the exchange rate, that's pretty much what it is give or take some change).<br /><br />My friends here also have maids... maids that do all the same things, or various versions of them. They live in parts of the city close to our old office... not this fancy 'burb of Bandra - all hip and happening and exclusive. Their hard working women charge a lot less than those working in this area... one month of labour comes to significantly less than a 1/4 what we pay. So you can see my friends perspective... 'you're being totally ripped off' 'WE'LL come and clean for that much'... it goes on. <br /><br />I'm always reminded of someone wonderful in LA. Not too many of my friends there had a cleaning lady... but I did. The same one as several others from work. She was remarkable... 61 years old, bringing up her *great* grandson single-handedly with no help from the State, cleaning houses and always hoping to find new clients to make ends meet. She would come to me once every two weeks... and after two hours my messy apartment would sparkle. And for these four hours... I paid $120 and felt I got every penny's worth. <br /><br />I think you can see where my conflict comes from. To me I am getting a bargain and still feeling like I am taking advantage of someone. So much work for so little money in this expensive city. But I am thinking like a firang and that internal conflict will always rage. I don't think my friends can ever make me change how I see it... it's all a matter of relativity. And being thankful at what I have and have come from. And meanwhile I'll keep on enjoying my cherished time with Augusta for however long this dream goes on....judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-90563037166052455142008-03-22T07:38:00.008+05:302008-03-22T10:06:40.679+05:30millions of coloursToday is Holi. One year ago I spent it on the 17th floor of my apartment looking down wistfully.. feeling very alone and left out while it seemed a whole country was having an enormous 3 Stooges slapstick doped-up fall-about mess in a watercolour paint box. 'Take *that* Grandma!' A free-for-all - a giant laying on of the hands - or slapping on of the hands.. on everything, no holds barred, bodies that were off limits have one happy day where the craving for touch is more than satisfied I would say!<br /><br />OK.. a lot has changed.. but still I can't really play Holi. My new family is protective and keeping me away from the cancerous colours and rash causing powders and dirty water... so I still feel like I am locked in my ivory fish smelling tower wishing I could let down my hair and clamber free. We'll see what happens as the morning progresses.<br /><br />We have had Gagan's father staying with us from Delhi. As my Mum puts it - my 'father out-of-law'. Now I have always had a confidence about parents... or rather my ability to 'charm' them shall we say. Perhaps our moving away from relatives and my missing being around people of other generations always made me rather enjoy those interactions. I speak that language! It comforts me and sends me back to childhood evenings where my parent's friends would come for dinner and I would sit and listen to their conversation for hours - much preferring that to hanging out with any other kids that were around. Fitting in was *not* my strong suit. <br /><br />So it's something I'm not normally concerned about.... in Firangistan**. Here it's a little more intimidating. I must preface though by saying how truly out of character this has been. Now any normal Indian family would have a conniption fit if I showed up with their handsome eligible son. Who wants their eldest child in their mid-20's to arrive at the door hand in hand with a white girl 13 years older! It's a stretch - even where I come from. But this family has been atypically phenomenal. It started with the attitude of the patriarch of the family who has completely trusted Gagan's judgement - whatever misgivings he may have had himself - and then the other's have just fallen in to that same welcoming warm excited way of being. <br /><br />I know how lucky I am. This could have been really difficult.. if not a deal breaker, though knowing Gagan I think not. But I feel very lucky and embraced. It's quite overwhelming at times. I'm not used to getting calls from relatives I don't know being so sweet and kind and interested on the phone. I can feel how genuine it all is. And gifts were brought to me, jewelry and clothes... special things. <br /><br />As Gagan has been working we have been sharing quite a bit of time together - time to learn about each other and our families and backgrounds. It's been nice. We talk about movies and food and the past. Good things to think about... especially food. He makes an awesome cup of tea ... and with the homemade cake all the way from family in Delhi it feels like we could be anywhere - sharing nice tastes and conversation.<br /><br />I'm always aware how strange and foreign I must seem. At times it's like I'm the kid on the special bus, the ancient decrepit geriatric with infinite special needs and different routines. My stomach issues mean I still can't eat spicy or fried food - something that didn't cause a problem back in my old life in LA - but here it causes, not amazement, but great pity. I want to remind everyone that spicy food was only a rare thing in my regular diet anyway. I would eat from a wide and varied palette - foods from around the globe. Continental, Thai, Chinese, Italian, Mexican, Cuban, Ethiopian, Vietnamese, Korean, Spanish, French and my favourite - Japanese.... a vast array of seasonings and flavours - that my friends would tease as I ooh and ahh over. To many Indians however, there are only two kinds of foods - indian and 'bland'. <br /><br />I liken it to our computer monitors in a way. When you first get your new computer home and excitedly pull it out of its packing, pushing away the annoying polystyrene chips that stubbornly stick to the hairs on your arm.. and you place it on the desk, plug in the monitor and get the thing humming happily, it's not long before you want to make sure your picture is looking as good as it can. The options you can choose offer you anywhere from the old redundant 256 colours (um.. WHO uses that?) to the magical sounding 'millions of colours'... so you don't hesitate to click on that one. This is where I think we are alike with taste. Somewhere in those millions of colours... right at the very top end of the spectrum... in the brightest whites.. are all the hot spices. The curries and chillies from around the world that make your nose run, your mouth and throat burn, your eyes water and your skin break out into a sweat as you panic and notice that the water you just drank is making it worse as it laughingly cascades down your throat carrying all the spices with it to dance their merry Day of the Dead dance along your tender tissues. <br /><br />Those who live up in the world of the whites.. for them the experience is different. All ingredients are enhanced by the holy Chili and they are atune to its subtleties.. perhaps seeing so many hues of white it is like a rainbow of shimmering crystals - a technicolor dreamplate. But the sacrifice they make is that it's harder for them to taste all those myriads of other colours bursting along the culinary rainbow. Tastebuds are tweaked to "superhot" and everything else just rolls onto the tongue, knocks hopefully at the door, sees the disapproving look and turns sadly to throw itself suicidaly into the sacrificial unsatisfied gullet. Or worse... just be left alone on the plate never to partake of the great game.<br /><br />So I sit in my colourful world, enviably staring at the sun on occasion. Blinded and wishing I had strong sunglasses and a stronger stomach. And every so often I am forced to defend my rather culture-less culture (but it's mine no less) and suggest that perhaps the food isn't bland - but that maybe we all have different senses of taste. <br /><br />Hmm... I rather digressed.. in a Ronnie Corbett sort of way! This post went all over the place. I had in mind some other things. Oh well.. they will have to wait. I'm overdue for some bland breakfast and it's Holi after all. I want to look down 6 floors and see what's happening!<br /><br /><br />**Firangistan is a term I love Gagan using to describe the west. Us outsiders are all firangs here - a term that means foreigners, but mostly used for those of us of the pale variety - its a bit like gaijin.judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-43248609810860004192008-03-15T14:45:00.004+05:302008-03-15T22:17:57.054+05:30bombay kissLove isn't easy in India. Hell... it isn't easy anywhere is it, but here the odds are firmly stacked against these incredibly beautiful young people. Trapped between their constrictive and conservative culture, and the explosion of western culture that is rapidly taking over... added with raging hormones. It's really difficult. <br /><br />I see it everywhere... people desperately trying to be with each other. They have no way to just spend time together, as they all live with their families and a lot of the time their relationships are not necessarily approved of or even known about, so you see these couples huddled together on their motorbikes on the side of the freeway... arms embracing. Each moment is precious. You know how much those minutes mean. The place could be anywhere... they don't care. The looks are loving... their eyes twinkle. They look so so happy. I wish I could slow down time for them. <br /><br />But they are the lucky ones it seems. Our way of life in the west.. frequently dating and having a boyfriend or girlfriend, is unheard of here. Most of my friends, stunningly handsome everyone of them, don't have girlfriends and I can't understand why the girls don't see how wonderful they are. I always hear the girls say that there are no decent guys around... a statement that makes me want to shake them. I feel I am surrounded by diamonds. These guys are incredibly kind, sensitive, caring, attentive, funny... able to have a laugh at anything and find the fun in everything. Just people you'd wanna be stuck in a lift with! They are handsome and charming to boot... so what's not to like? I guess they don't fit the difficult criteria that the parent's set perhaps. Like I said, love is hard. Many young guys are afraid to even approach girls.<br /><br />With all of this it's not surprising that arranged marriage is still thriving. My social circle is in their mid-20's... when the expectations are that you will be getting married. And we usually ask was it a love marriage or an arranged? I'm secretly thrilled that more and more I see the love marriage creeping in. Not judging... there are a lot of arranged marriages that have worked out fine for my friends' parents.. but these are new times and I hope for new things for this generation.<br /><br />Meanwhile... the couples huddle away on the freeway... longing for the time they can meet somewhere a little more comfy and romantic than the smog-filled air of the Bombay highways. Should I think about renting out our spare room?judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-69577271552485648292008-03-15T13:31:00.011+05:302008-03-16T16:42:27.876+05:30pied piper of lovevilleBe glad you are not a common <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_gecko">House Gecko</a> in India. For any of you who are odd enough to have actually been reading this tome for a long time.. you might remember Pepe?.. the lil guy who visited my kitchen at the Royal Empire apartment. Well... we have been visited by his Bandra cousin Jose (hey don't ask me why they have Spanish names!!).. a lovely green friend that I really enjoy. He's a bit more lively than Pepe was.. doesn't like us to get so close. It makes him pitter patter round the ceiling and across the cupboard doors with his gloopy feet. I love him :) Gagan thinks I'm off my rocker, I'm sure of it... yelling at Jose 'no, no - not that way - THAT way' as I make wild gestures to ward him towards the open window and away from the far-too-interested cats!<br /><br />So anyway... I digress from what I wanted to share with you. Be glad you're not Jose or any of his gloopy toed cousins. You see... in India and it turns out throughout a lot of Asia and the middle east.. it turns out there are some <a href="http://209.85.175.104/search?q=cache:_vmrNU_EPRAJ:www.nanzan-u.ac.jp/SHUBUNKEN/publications/afs/pdf/a1102.pdf+gecko+folklore&hl=en&ct=clnk&cd=1&gl=in&client=firefox-a">old folk lores and beliefs that these harmless and charming little creatures are deadly poisonous</a>. I'm not talking just make-you-puke here.. I'm talking kick-the-bucket d-e-a-d! What I've heard is their skin has toxins on it, and if they fall in your cooking pot and you eat any of it... dead as a dodo, baby! Remember we're not talking <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gila_monster">Gila Monsters</a> or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mexican_beaded_lizard">Beaded Lizards</a> here... those puppies are genuinely poisonous - the only two lizards who are.. but just your common ordinary home terrarium variety house gecko. The ones you all held in your hands as a kid.. marvelling at their wide toes and their translucent skin.<br /><br />Now... perhaps this is my first encounter here, firsthand, with something that I know is wrong, but that the people who are telling me, believe is the truth. This brings all sorts of things to my mind. I remember my wonderful art history lecturer in Perth teaching us about the Australian aboriginals and their stories of the Dreamtime. How individuals and creatures created land structures with song and story and that this is just as real to them as scientific explanation is to us. Who am I to judge or discount those ideas? But faced with something like this... when old folktales that pass around through the ages and cause crazy notions.. it messes my head all around. It's where my 'New World' sensibilities trip and fall down the 'Old World' staircase... to land in a muddle at the bottom not knowing whether I like where I've landed. One thing I have learned with my advancing years.. is that you can't change people's minds though. It's what Darwin faced... and what scientists still face all the time. The world is still flat in some places... but it doesn't mean that the people who think it's flat aren't good people and mean well. We all think our truth is *the* truth, don't we ;)<br /><br />Most of the time I so enjoy everything around me, but perhaps that's as an enchanted 'tourist' in this world... always passing through. Ultimately, I'm from the west and an animal lover, and I'm the one patting the street dogs and noticing the skinny cats and stray rats. Most of those around me are filled with a mixture of dislike, mistrust and disgust.. mostly from just a lack of knowledge. No wonder the dogs rush to me like I am the Pied Piper of Loveville... their tails wagging, their eyes entreating me desperately for a sign of anything... they rub their faces on my leg, they pull their lips back in wolf smiles, they jump up gently hoping I will pat them.. and upon invitation are so very very proud to walk alongside me. I'll have 3 or 4 at a time with me... happy as larry. They're such lovely moments I feel giddy and wish I had a video camera. <br /><br />So Pepe, Jose .. and all your cousins... if you happen to read the internet... stay out of houses, it's best for your safety. Except a certain apartment in Bandra.. you're welcome there (just watch out for the cats!)judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-62151872974153236122008-03-08T12:08:00.004+05:302008-03-09T10:40:26.456+05:30hissy spitty....It's Saturday morning and Gagan has just left for work... the first of many overtime weekends on Hulk. It reminds me of what I hate about this business. As I get older I feel less tolerant of the toll it takes on life and the various strange liberties it takes on the employees. I try to stand up for what I believe in... for what it's worth. Reminds me of the principal of my high school calling me a revolutionary.. he was so angry. At the time I was secretly honoured to be called that.. it's how I was brought up.. to always question and think for myself and never just accept what was happening . Eyes wide open and mind aware. But I don't want to be at the front of the pack.. on point... I'm much happier giving support and encouragement to the stronger ones. I think I get too emotionally caught up in it all... and end up not sleeping and worrying too much. I think I am like our cat Tufty and Gagan like Pippin. I hiss and spit and growl and mutter and grumble my way through the world... and he smiles and glides and watches with his eyes twinkling, never unhappy. Always ready to rub my head and say 'don't worry... everything is fine' .. the yin to my yang. <br /><br />I am watching a tv show about a young guy in Mongolia learning the local <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NOsGvs1FZDs">throat singing</a> and traveling around. He has one week to master this infinitly difficult skill and perform at a festival. The sounds are like something from a weird instrument and I never knew a human made them! It's the kind of fantastic tv we get here... makes me feel so connected to the world. Traveling from the living room couch. Nice big plasma tv helps! <br /><br />Never enough hours in the non-working day to do all the things we'd like to. Watch all the movies, read all the books.. go all the places. Computer things to play with... unpacking the books... putting up pictures.... and just sitting around and generally contemplating your navel! Those moments when you're 10 years old and do nothing for hours... just sit and daydream :) Still - I am the one at home so I'm not complaining!judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-46294074934170469522008-03-01T08:25:00.005+05:302008-03-01T09:31:45.065+05:30no masala... but an Oscar will do!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLbMA3HqMmr3q-jQMZGMamZAB-5-3azH-XDOIf-k78STTdkl5FxgxxQaDr8G-YpTKJsrjzDusW09XrGwcFpXV3TkFibWxCeixzWw08gRfqsPy7IDUGaKp2lsMjpMVTDmBoRwju_aMcxe4/s1600-h/oscar.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLbMA3HqMmr3q-jQMZGMamZAB-5-3azH-XDOIf-k78STTdkl5FxgxxQaDr8G-YpTKJsrjzDusW09XrGwcFpXV3TkFibWxCeixzWw08gRfqsPy7IDUGaKp2lsMjpMVTDmBoRwju_aMcxe4/s320/oscar.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172614098517392530" /></a><br />It's been a wild week. Monday morning I turned on the TV to the live Oscar broadcast just in time to see my friend Bill Westenhofer <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A4xN6a01dIY">win an Oscar!</a> I think I was yelling loudly enough for him to hear me all the way from India. It was for R&H's visual effects on The Golden Compass. I felt so proud and excited and overwhelmed to have been part of it..in a small way. Through Gagan I heard all the celebrations at the Indian office... screaming and shouting... laughter. Such happy people. They worked really hard and deserved every bit of it. I was so happy for them... and sad to not be part of it. It's been an emotional week. <br /><br />We have a really lovely maid Augusta who comes every day to clean and 'mother' us. If we are home she just loves to catch up and talk and talk (as Gagan would say 'she eats your head'!).... she has amazing tales of her life, living in Cyprus and her husband working in the UK. Her children are all studying hard and doing well.. and we talk a lot about the problems of the world, usually coming up with solutions in the hour or so we talk (just like a good tv show!). She is determined that I am going to eat well, and that I shouldn't eat 'outside' food so much. I dont have the energy, skill or interest to cook, so she has been so excited to do some for us. She'd been offering for so long, and I didn't want to trouble her. But as I've gotten to know her I realise she really *wants* to and feels better knowing I'm eating safely and that she's looking after me. My Indian mother :) How very lucky am I! <br /><br />We buy fresh veges from a cart outside our building. I come home at night - peek in the fridge and - yippee - there are containers of tasty cooked sweet potato, carrots, string beans and artfully arranged slices of tomato and cucumber all awaiting my drooling taste buds! Nuke 'em and we're ready to eat! oh... well.. *I'm* ready to eat.. Gagan isn't a big fan of vegetables! ;) <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijEZLgs4vGyrVEg8mbhjN5Fv4guLQMyqiMzcSDv0DqHffJ9ESnZ0LWPkeBIeMBwaQtSdjxjxPgJiIXkZ28soYkyP8ggj-X6VKLA9X24CjZiS7NaVZFp2wjKCR-HLJp0OugDL74hVku-JY/s1600-h/poha.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijEZLgs4vGyrVEg8mbhjN5Fv4guLQMyqiMzcSDv0DqHffJ9ESnZ0LWPkeBIeMBwaQtSdjxjxPgJiIXkZ28soYkyP8ggj-X6VKLA9X24CjZiS7NaVZFp2wjKCR-HLJp0OugDL74hVku-JY/s200/poha.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172607535807364226" /></a>Now we've added some simple Indian dishes to the list.. they're really breakfast things but I used to have them at R&H and loved them. Poha (pictured) and <a href="http://static.flickr.com/41/113868131_b982f77ddf.jpg">upma</a> are made from rice and (to me) unidentifiable grains or pulses that I find in plastic bags on the kitchen counter and ogle over! Augusta is a great cook and she makes them without any spices so that it's safe for sickly old colitis-stomach me. All this healthy food has made my stomach so well... better than it's been in years! I miss Indian food very much... but I can see the pay off in how everything is 'working'... hehe. What I wouldn't give for a little chicken tikka masala though...judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-20235340566047646102008-02-23T18:08:00.004+05:302008-03-01T09:54:19.800+05:30...and flyI feel like my eyes are the lens of a camera most of the time here in Bombay. Snippets of little precious moments that I wish I was recording.. but I need them in full sensurround 3D-imax smellovison to really let you know what I'm on about. Just snippets of beauty.<br /><br />The ride to work on the bike in the mornings with Kaustubh. Along Carter Rd in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bandra">Bandra</a> by the sea - the median strip is raised with some vegetation and a group of loose and unclaimed donkeys chew away at the grass ignored by the cars and bikes going by.. ignored by everyone except me. 'Donkeys!' <br /><br />Further along.... past the preschool and catholic girl's school... cars and auto rickshaws stream in to bring all the kids in their tidy uniforms to school. Parents dropping them off on scooters.. and autos with up to 8 tiny kids bundled into the back (where we would squeeze in 3 adults)... everyone with uniforms pressed and hair tied into pigtails or braids. Even though I never want to be a parent... I like all the smiling faces and the sweet way a father gently grabs the hand of a tiny kid to cross the street amidst the chaos. If we are a few minutes late to work... the road past the school is abandoned... the chaos is gone as if it never happened... and you know the kids are settling in to another boring day at school.<br /><br />At night we wind through tiny streets in Bandra that I just love. Houses and store fronts open straight on to the street... the tiniest shops you've ever seen... some basically the size of a human, just enough for someone to stand or sit in, and sell a few little things. At dusk everything lights up... and people are walking and talking in amongst the cars and motorbikes and ricks driving on a road only as wide as one car.... everything squeeeeezes through. It's mad fun and I love it. <br /><br />There is one place where an outdoor shaving stand is set up... there is no light. Just the light of passing cars in the darkness. A mirror hangs on the fence. A tall stool where the victim sits and faces the mirror he can't really see.. his face is liberally lathered up... and the straight razor comes out... lickety split :) Awesome... all in the dark!<br /><br />We pass a wall that has a plaque on it... small, tiled... and every time I see it I smile so much. It says "Myrtle D'Souza and Fly". Now years ago I worked on Babe:Pig in the City... and my favourite shots to work on were with the lovely border collie Fly :) So... I saw this and .. well.. who is Fly? ..could it be a dog? I just really liked the images it put in my head :) That this woman loved her dog so much she put his name on the wall with hers ;) ok .. ok... so, the bubble was burst when it was pointed out to me that 'fly' means 'family'... but I'll carry on with my little fantasy thankyouverymuch.judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-16618229474547927802008-02-09T17:34:00.000+05:302008-02-09T17:56:59.209+05:30two types of blue flameI always chuckle on the motorbike ride to work each morning. We pass a block pf apartments called Blue Flame. I wonder if that is what the inhabitants spend their late nights doing - sort've Jack Black style .... does the place stink but light up all evening? If you don't know what I'm talking about... check this <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=blue+flame">link.</a> It just makes me smile.<br /><br />I just made myself some soft boiled eggs. We have a sweet little kitchen - a typical old-styled Italian kitchen as Pascal put it... a narrow room with cupboards reaching high to the ceiling, not a lot of counter space but enough for our simple needs. At the end under the window is the two-burner gas stove. This device is a bit of a challenge for me. I'm not too adept at lighting it and that makes Gagan chuckle as I turn it on and off and on and off so as not to gas myself into a high. I'm getting better :) Two clicks of the mechanical lighter thingamejig and I was blue-flaming away today!judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-11173180807610032352008-02-01T18:05:00.000+05:302008-02-05T18:41:50.752+05:30paradise by the laptop lightsIt's quiet. All I hear are birds... peaceful. Crows, parrots, pigeons, kites... all flying by the ocean. Sometimes you can even hear donkeys. The occasional dog barking. But it's quiet - here in our little paradise by the sea.<br /><br />Boy do I have a lot to fill in :)<br /><br />I'm not just a business travelor anymore. Once upon a time I was sent by a company to India. It was an adventure. I made friends, had an incredible time at work and found myself feeling more at home than I felt in the country I'd been living for years. But the company didn't like me getting so comfy comfy with the employees - I think firangs are supposed to keep their distance and not develop the kind of friendships that I could not help but make. It was a growing process for all of us, me, my friends, and the company. Inevitably we all lost something... but I gained so much and I never looked back. I fell in love with India, and with an Indian, and I had to stay. So.. the company and I, after 10 long years, parted ways and I moved from one side of the planet to the other. My home :) <br /><br />I'm sad I didnt get to cover all the amazing times I had in the blog. Some of the company's management on both sides of the world didnt like it and I stopped as I felt so winded by that judgement of my personal space. I actually wrote a whole piece about it at the time... but I didnt post it as I knew it would make things harder for me at work. There were lots of idealistic hopes it might start up conversations about freedom of speech in blogger circles etc... but when the fight gets personal like that it isnt as easy as it seems. <br /><br />But now it's all past and I have moved on. Life is wonderful. I am with the man I love, my cats are here from the US... we have a great apartment, and life is settling into a pattern of simple pleasures and wide eyed wonder. It was all different coming back after shutting up shop in LA. I had to relearn India again. Relearn to love it in a way. I'm in a new part of the city I didnt know. I felt disoriented. Even though it was paradise - our apartment looks out over the Arabian Sea.. one block up - I was in unfamiliar territory and further from friends. And some friends have moved to Hyderabad too, so there was such a sense of change... nothing was as before. I had so much to get used to. Plus adjusting to leaving a job I was used to - software I loved etc. Even if the position just wasnt right anymore it is hard to leave something that had once been good and a pipeline that worked so well. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDHfHaLc_jsUwzGDYDBxUPLGPYHR14PXC75QmRCtEz5RBmnjs8yL6eOd_pFSa8Xl-y3U3vaPWg-BPoHsxqLC8DX3ue4eG3Ms24btA2hCKLoQHUT_R8B7wui47EIbeibS5KYK4PNcdvk0E/s1600-h/couch.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDHfHaLc_jsUwzGDYDBxUPLGPYHR14PXC75QmRCtEz5RBmnjs8yL6eOd_pFSa8Xl-y3U3vaPWg-BPoHsxqLC8DX3ue4eG3Ms24btA2hCKLoQHUT_R8B7wui47EIbeibS5KYK4PNcdvk0E/s200/couch.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163481896080341890" /></a>The first days and weeks I look back on like I was emerging from an egg... like Mork and his spaceship! Building up our apartment from scratch was a challenge. I hadnt done that for years... and I felt a little helpless as I was recovering from all the sickness I had in LA (the joys of fibromyalgia!) and Gagan had to do so much. But now we have furniture and my stuff has arrived from LA (all 60 boxes... mostly books!) and it feels like a lovely home. Right now the sun is setting.. it leaves a warm red glow in the living room and our bedroom. The cats sit on the back of the couch basking in the heat... their eyes closing contentedly. They have all their favourite toys and baskets here - life is good for an Adamson furry!judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-49721982140107329042007-05-13T22:51:00.000+05:302007-05-13T22:53:11.559+05:30whizz bang!It's 11pm and the folks who live in the slum next to my building and work on the construction site of the new apartment blocks are letting off fireworks :) weeeeeeeeee!!!judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-77894943471519926412007-05-13T19:50:00.000+05:302007-05-13T20:57:57.763+05:30a little somethin' somethin'...eeck... do I even qualify as a blogger at this rate? A month since my last post :( The guilt has been weighing me down... I must say. Not a huge number of 'quotable' things have happened ... but I have been busy and happy happy. It's all good. It's May now... the summer is HERE. People are telling me they feel the monsoons will come early this year...soon in fact. So I am proud of getting through the summer so far without any *freak* moments like I used to have in Perth... wanting to peel my skin off my body in heat panic. I am spoiled with a/c so how can I possibly complain anyway.<br /><br />So the general schtuff that has been keeping me busy is all the interesting developments at work. Moving off my involvement with The Golden Compass, I have been immersed in the 2nd Lighting Apprenticeship programme. I missed my buddy in arms Arun... but I have gained a wonderful new friend in our educator at this office... my Guruji... Amit :) We had 2 great weeks of intense class teaching together.... and I watched him just flourish in his element. A natural teacher.... he made learning a pleasure. We had a blast together. I felt a clumsy git when I would chime in with my little blurbs here and there... none of the simplicity of explanation that he had! Ah well.... perhaps my talents lie in other places!<br /><br />The class is now starting their mock production... a great bunch of folks, it's always freaky to put myself in that position of coming in to our studio and learning all this stuff cold. What a challenge! Jargon, tech issues and un-learning everything you have learned... haha.... how to push those brain cells to the limit babeeee! We've been working different hours... 11am to 7:30pm.... it's been different and a nice change. I have enjoyed sleeping in late! Been sleeping badly... but those late morning hours are good sleep. The morning auto ride is different. Hotter and much more traffic.... the roads are not waking up any more....everything is definitely alive and on the go by 10am!<br /><br />Other than work... life has been a party! I had Jane from LA here for a while and we had a blast, though I had a sickness while she was here that stopped us from the real insanity I had promised her. Still it was amazing .... she is missed!! We both had birthdays while she was here. Now... it's been a while since I celebrated my birthday... just haven't felt 'in the mood' and been alone. Seemed a bit nuts to throw myself a party when I really didn't care and there wasn't family or anyone really close there anyway. But.... I have realised.... there is no such thing as a secret ignored birthday in India... hahaha! Talk about being made to feel special for a day! The office sends email out...and then a bazillion handshakes and emails later... I get called into the screening room for surprise cake, flowers and presents! ok... I admit... it was really lovely and once again I fell in love with everyone. How often can this happen? :) Jane got the same treatment.... we are spoilt... rotten!<br /><br />Been getting some GREAT bike rides with friends...a selection of bikes. I have realised that even on the hottest day ... being on the back of a bike is rather cooling.... nice :) I am lousy at climbing on for some reason.... what's *that* about?... residual problems from those few horse riding lessons as a kid or something?? I mean...c'mon.. it's just a bike! I guess my midget status gives me trouble gettin' a leg over! hahaha :) At least I give prior warning - "this is gonna get wobbly for a moment as I clamber on!" <br /><br />There's been dancing out late at clubs until we all collapsed, movies and food, and staying up all night talking to best friends. Life is truly peaking! :) I'll put the couple of things that require detail in separate posts.... but here ya go... something finally to chew on.judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-491913008843421032007-04-08T10:25:00.000+05:302007-04-08T11:14:44.487+05:30grace kelly and IHave I ever really talked about my morning ride to work? Such a special time of day... about 8am and the streets are just awakening. I step out onto the street in front of my building and wait for an auto to pull over. It's an interesting little dance... you can't even call it a conversation - that you have to determine that the driver will take you to your destination. Going to work I say "Malad - InOrbit mall' and then if he's willing (which he usually is in the morning) I will see an imperceptable twist of the head or roll of the eye indicating for me to get in... and that was my 'yes'. At night... the autos cluster around the entrance to our glass megastructure... waiting for all the call centre workers to pour out, and when I say 'Andheri West (Vest is more how I say it... in one quick string 'Andherivest') Lokhandwala Circle', usually quite a few are not interested in the shorter fare and shake their head once or grimace a little and look away. It took a little while to learn the language... but I have it now.<br /><br />So... I climb in and grab my long scarf to make the necessary arrangements so that I arrive looking a little human. It's a fast ride and the good drivers really pick up some speed when they can.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHnvDM_ULiM_P2MIrZM71yZ_Qxsoq8eZKEVWWvRaHfbdCWJvHm9IMfsMqDG5VlzxupnbC1WTmS0w7rZoWtLwsZ3_vFWhTg96AOOb1ecM9ZLTYrELXLBhyphenhyphenerO5v0tLGlr_rKYOqdlP369o/s1600-h/grace2.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHnvDM_ULiM_P2MIrZM71yZ_Qxsoq8eZKEVWWvRaHfbdCWJvHm9IMfsMqDG5VlzxupnbC1WTmS0w7rZoWtLwsZ3_vFWhTg96AOOb1ecM9ZLTYrELXLBhyphenhyphenerO5v0tLGlr_rKYOqdlP369o/s320/grace2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050926511486839266" /></a>The autos are completely open to the wind on either side... so those of us with long hair can end up with quite an afro if we're not prepared. So, twisting my hair into a braid and hooking it under a bra strap, then tightly swathing my <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/35569413@N00/417125390/">scarf</a> around my head... I am able to hold down most of the flyaways and keep it under control. With sunglasses on I always feel like I'm doing a Grace Kelly impression though... and I can't help but feel incredibly 'white' ... sigh :( Oh for that olive skin that lies deep within my genes! ...perhaps I could have a reverse Michael Jackson incident ;)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6w99xkC4c4fnpEm16fkWB1nuKWwCq-Y6GPjjgr8H4rYS0u56FgDVfO-0qNOkRbzXk_nFsGh_Jcx8iIfhpOcnWpth-tnyCPXcAHqMCU8DTv1gM3nzFH5Rp4cTdiblpB5HTGiSpSXWRckM/s1600-h/imranBike.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6w99xkC4c4fnpEm16fkWB1nuKWwCq-Y6GPjjgr8H4rYS0u56FgDVfO-0qNOkRbzXk_nFsGh_Jcx8iIfhpOcnWpth-tnyCPXcAHqMCU8DTv1gM3nzFH5Rp4cTdiblpB5HTGiSpSXWRckM/s320/imranBike.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050927074127555058" /></a><br /><br />On the days I wear a salwar kameez then I use the <a href="http://www.pardesifashions.com/SalwarKameez/DupattaTutorial1.aspx">dupatta</a> to wrap around my hair. They're really long though.. and it's almost like a turban has snaked its way off my head and tried to strangle me.... looks a little amusing I'm sure. Unwinding it at the end of the ride is like unwrapping a mummy!<br /><br />The auto drivers are notorious for not having change. For a 30 rupee ride I can often get grief for only having a 50 rupee note. It's my fault for not knowing the language that I can't argue the point.... I can tell him to go left and right, and straight, and to stop.... and I can say some pretty nasty things about his mother and sister (not that I would!).... but I don't know how to tell him that he should bloody well have 20 rupees change at all times!! I think it must be one of the most valuable things in this city... the 10-rupee note! Don't leave home without it!!<br /><br />The drive in the morning goes along some back streets that are tree-lined and have dogs awakening, people walking and amazingly... hardly any traffic. We pass businesses and shops that are closed ("Gym and Tonic" anyone?), chai stops, coconut stands and head onto the main Link Road where things are a little more busy... but still distinctly alive with the morning rhythms. One stretch of road is lined with autos getting washed. They glisten in the sun, and some lean to one side as their drivers make adjustments to the tiny engines underneath, the three wheels making it easy to tip over and get to the nuts and bolts of the machinery. <br /><br />People are washing and shaving on the streets... every aspect of the morning ablutions is carried out in full view. Cars and people all getting cleaned. Water splashes everywhere. <br /><br />We drive past the mutton and poultry stores.... small vans loaded with 'broilers' the fat and healthy white chickens destined for a short future I try not to think of, are ready to be unloaded. The mutton is of course, goat... and often I will see them milling about in front of the store. It's amazing that they are loose and don't escape. They are all nibbling away at stuff on the streets and appear calm, content and very healthy. Coming in all sorts of wonderful and varied colours, they are some of the loveliest goats I've seen.. and though their future is sad too.... I think they probably have a much nicer life than livestock destined for western tables. Sometimes they are curled up on the side of the street almost like a dog. I swear though... being a vegetarian is one thought away!!<br /><br />As we see the mall appearing ahead, I tell the driver 'left laner' and he has to brake from the speed he was able to gain on that one little stretch of road. He turns before Hypercity and we drive past all the motorbikes parked along the roadside. 'Bus bus' I say and he pulls to a halt next to the security station at Mindspace and the 10-minute ride is over. Hopefully I have the right change... coins even .... and I thank him in hindi. I often get a shy smile as I say thankyou more than once and meet his eye, and for one more moment I have a little connection. These guys ride all day in the heat and monsoons.. for not a lot of money... and their world fascinates me. Gotta learn the language Jude.... so much you're missing out on!!judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-19630462934117288772007-04-07T20:39:00.000+05:302007-04-08T08:52:05.501+05:30pujas and presidentsS'been forever hasn't it. .... I feel a bit stressed at how much time has lapsed on the blog... but then not a lot has happened really, so I am just going to write some snippets and wing it.<br /><br />Whatever that sickness was, it got a hold of me and gave me quite a bear hug. A course of the scary Cipro later and I still didn't seem to be getting rid of it.... and everyone at work was getting a bit worried I could tell. I'm not very good at being sick.... no... let me rephrase that. I'm actually *very* good at 'being' sick since I have been so much in my life.... but I'm not good at it around other people... and I tend to just want to hide away, hibernate it out, so to speak. This is a country where everyone helps everyone though... and I'm sure they wondered why I didn't want a lot of attention. Finally though I started to see the other side of it, which was lucky as I was missing a Rather Big Event in R&H history. John Hughes had come to India!<br /><br />John is the wonderful and remarkable person who, along with his colleagues, founded Rhythm and Hues. He is the president and owner... and has inspired a lot of us in ways he'll never really know. Now that he has this Indian facility - which has existed for 5 years - everyone has been urging him to come and visit, but we never really thought he would. But... the planets aligned and a butterfly sneezed, and he was invited to be the keynote speaker at the <a href="http://www.ficci-frames.com/index.htm">FICCI Frames</a> Conference.... so... it was really happening!<br /><br />I was out sick for several of the 5 days John was here... so I missed out on some of the excitement. At work it was almost too 'exciting'... with the admin team being put into super-high gear to get things ready for his visit. He's a very easy going person and will have wanted nothing special, but it *was* the first ever trip... so things had to be perfect. <br /><br />I felt very emotional when I first saw him.... gave him an enormous hug. Even though I knew we didn't have much time to talk right then... and may not get to, there was something about seeing him at this office that meant so much to me, it gave me quite a lump in my throat. I wasn't to know that that was really just the beginning.<br /><br />So.... as I said ... I was out sick for quite a few days.... but 'dragged my sorry ass' in to work on the afternoon of the last day of the conference to go to the company meeting. Of course it was a super-special one with John in attendance and everyone in really high spirits. John made a great speech.... had us all laughing and on the edge of our chairs feeling very proud of the office here. I know I was holding back tears at the things he said... and I could see how heartfelt his emotions were. Many questions were asked and when he went over his amazing life story of how he found himself in this industry and the founding of R&H... I think we were all like little children around a campfire listening to a great storyteller. Of course when the introductions were made and people had to sing or dance - John was a great sport about it. His choice was to sing a chinese song that he sings for his children. It was fantastic... and the crowds went wild! Very good... I wonder if they will see this tradition starting up in LA ;)<br /><br />I hadn't just come in for the meeting because Vani had said we were all going to a Bollywood 'extravaganza' that night. Serkan, Burcin, Jane and I headed off in a hire car to the lovely Renaissance Hotel at Powai Lake where the conference was held. Oh my....what a <a href="http://images.scottvanvliet.com/blog/PowaiLake_11FF9/powailake_thumb2.jpg">view</a>! The hotel and its grounds look towards a cityscape across the lake, and at night it twinkles and sparkles as cars drive along the waterfront like little networks of fireflies. I was mesmerized.<br /><br />We sat outside in the heat and watched a rather amusing and *very* unprepared presentation that signalled the end of the conference. The one thing I did enjoy was a dance academy that did number after number to the latest Bollywood hits. Man... talk about *stunning* women and men... and holy crap could they move! The costumes were a bonanza of colour and mirrored sparkles and it was truly a feast for the eyes and ears. Our problem was ... we needed a feast for the stomach too! By 9:30pm we were famished. It didn't help that they had a huge buffet all at the ready that wasn't going to be served until 10:30pm and the smells wafted over us as we sat and watched. It was too much to bear! So we headed in to the hotel to look for restaurants. We found several including one that served a buffet, and though we didn't really need something that large so late at night... we were ready! Serkan even had 5 desserts :) Though we hadn't seen any Bollywood stars, the food was bloody good and the magical view and dancing had been a lovely break from all my days of sickness.<br /><br />The next day was John's last at work. He had been meeting with each department seperately to meet everyone and answer questions. We had the lighting meeting in the screening room, followed by group photos. I could tell how much he was enjoying it all. People are so responsive here.<br /><br />At the end of the day Vani had organised a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Puja">puja</a> at work. The priest I had seen at the temple way back on Valentines Day, had come to perform the long and somwhat solemn ceremony. Anyone who wanted to participate was invited to sit at the back of the room. Jane and I were asked to come, and we sat cross-legged watching Vani and John going through the many ministrations of the quiet and trance-like ceremony. There were so many flowers and the room smelt wonderful... and as the priest tore them up and gave Vani and John the petals for the three of them to throw onto the images of the goddess, I felt myself floating away on the monotone chanting of the mantras and the sweet scents drifting through the room. Even a cold stark office building can be made into a little piece of heaven here in India! Only my stiff knees and slouching, aching back brought me back to reality... and as John was given an apple and flowers, and drank curd from his hand, I hoped that perhaps we were near the end of the ritual. <br /><br />As the tika powder was applied and the formal ceremony was over, it was time for the rest of the company to join in. I looked behind me and realised the room was crowded. One by one we were handed the tray with the burning flame on it to wave slowly in front of the goddess.... it felt very calming and meaningful, though I don't know what or who I was thinking 'to'. India gives us extra things to strengthen us though... and having been so sick, it did feel nice to be part of this small ritual that was so colourful and full of flowers and fruits and foods. <br /><br />Each person knelt down for their blessing or prasad... they prayed in their own individual way and received the tika and a small amount of water in the palm to drink. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtBQnXPWj1dpbzp2_UzJd1dhN2Z3BYKJnBOxONsV-WEBXl2RbybVFViGidrh3DcKf2HrnGl2nY8pTmqHSH5Hl23KNzAP5TKL6NLX2Ii4EpMP3ITGQxJkrHxwJlWQogn3u_QH5_fIN6r6c/s1600-h/ladoo.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtBQnXPWj1dpbzp2_UzJd1dhN2Z3BYKJnBOxONsV-WEBXl2RbybVFViGidrh3DcKf2HrnGl2nY8pTmqHSH5Hl23KNzAP5TKL6NLX2Ii4EpMP3ITGQxJkrHxwJlWQogn3u_QH5_fIN6r6c/s400/ladoo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050736506428631506" /></a>Then... the thing I knew they were all excited about... a bright orange ladoo. This is to me, a special Indian sweet... they are so saturated in colour and are moist and sweet and kindof fall apart as you bite into them. Hehehe... pretty mouthwatering. Worth finding and trying if you can! They always make me think of the old lady in the movie 'Water'.... all she wanted was a ladoo... that was all.<br /><br />The priest recognised me from the visit to the temple. He was to prepare an astrology chart for me... which I still have to go and hear about. But he was chuckling and clucking away to the others in the room as he looked at me. I asked what he was saying... apparently I have gotten fat since he saw me last time (boo!) ... he also said I will get married in India. Well... that's easy for him to say.... if he can suggest where to find this likely lad who doesn't care about the hands of time or the colour of skin, then I might think he's onto something ;)<br /><br />~ ~ ~ ~<br /><br />On that last evening we all went out for dinner with John. It was a local restaurant we all like, not far from work. Aryans serves tasty food and is comfortable and has a good atmosphere.. though don't go if you're in a hurry... they take a l-o-n-g time with the food ;) It was all the managers and Jane and I... and though many of us were tired from a long week, I think everyone enjoyed it. It felt good to be sharing dinner with John again after so so long. There was one surreal and quite delicious moment where I listened to all the managers discussing very indepth concepts of astrology with John... I wish I hadn't been feeling so yukky, it was very nice to let the conversation wash over me. Several of them have read or are reading <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shantaram_(novel)">Shantaram</a>, the book that is totally engulfing me at the moment. I can barely bring myself to finish it... but it's the most amazing book I think I've ever read. It was so good to talk about it and know others had similar thoughts. I'm nearing the end of the book now.... exhausted as if I'd been hiding behind rocks and watching everything right in front of me. I don't know how it's going to end... don't want to know. But it makes me love this city more and more and gaze in wonder every time I step outside the door.judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-57412671250611184412007-03-23T20:33:00.000+05:302007-03-23T23:53:35.609+05:30you give me feverUm... so that sickness I mentioned last time.... it's been an odd one. It didn't really want to bugger off.... didn't want to pay attention to the antibiotics that were sent to beat it over the head. So... I spent the rest of that long weekend with a higher temperature and a painful throat, feeling quite ugly and pitiful. Rather a wasted opportunity to get out and see some of 'Indja' but ... there you go. I was running out of food in the apartment and it was all a bit pathetic .. hehehe. Of course I wasn't supposed to eat anything spicy either. I felt like a wimp! <br /><br />My latest visitor from LA was arriving on Monday, which happened to be a company holiday for Gudi Padwa, the Maharashtrian New Year. Jane flew in just after 10am and arrived at the apartment near noon. I was a sorry mess and not in much shape to be a good host. She was pretty excited to have arrived though and that was good. We hung out for a while and then I rested. We ordered some food to be delivered in the evening.. but I ended up eating toast. She bought me FOUR jars of Vegemite which made me one happy little sandgroper!!<br /><br />Tuesday morning and I knew I wasn't going in to work. Too sick. I stayed home but Ruchi came over to take me for a blood test. I was a little scared about where I was going... visions of some primitive place.... but man was I impressed!!! Right next door to my building, the <a href="http://www.lifecareindia.com/">clinic</a> was sooo modern and clean and swanky!! Lovely lobby with a wide flatscreen tv showing cricket news (of course!). We paid up front for the test - 500 rupees which is around $11 US. Not bad eh? That was for a bunch of blood tests and a urine test. I waited only a couple of minutes and a guy came and took me to a back room where I sat in a special testing chair opposite a girl in a salwar suit with her arm out and a scared look of pain on her face. When the needle went in she really winced... it didn't help my nerves at all!<br /><br />The man was so sweet. He did an amazing job and it barely hurt at all. He was interested in where I was from etc. I was so impressed at how little blood he took and how he prepared a slide right next to me. One tiny little fat glass vial was all they needed. In LA they take five vials and change them while the needle is in your arm.. leaves a bruise for sure.<br /><br />I went back home to rest and continue doing the 'nothing' I'd been doing all weekend. Well... at least it included this incredible book I'm reading... <a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/isbnInquiry.asp?z=y&EAN=9780312330538&itm=1">Shantaram</a>.. READ IT!! ;) Every word is infused with a love for Bombay and its people that leaves me breathless.... he writes my thoughts more clearly than I think them! Like I said... *read it* .... it's a giant tome but a true page turner!<br /><br />I went back to work on Wednesday but my fever was even higher and I felt a little worse than Tuesday. The test results had become available online Tuesday night and didn't seem to show much. So Ruchi took me off to the doctor after the VC and she told me that it was probably a bladder infection this time. I'm not sure how that has caused all the throat and congestion problems.... but now I am taking the antibiotic of last resort.... Cipro. It's a scary little blighter... and not little either... it looks like a suppository! So that and another drug are now coursing through my veins and hopefully this will do the trick.<br /><br />Thursday night after work, Jane, Vani and I went to the tailer near Orlem church again to get some more things stitched. I still had several fabric sets to have salwar kameez and skirts made. I just hadn't had a chance to get there til now. The lovely tailor Nikki recognised me. She's really great and does such good work. I enjoy going there. Apart from the great things Mum used to make me as a weener in NZ, I've never had clothes custom made and it's amazing how different they are when made to fit all the measurements of your body.<br /><br />Now it is Friday night and I am watching cricket and enjoying the memories of yet another meeting with Vivek Oberoi at his office today. Of course I still can't put the details down. I took my friend Jesh along.. it was a great and successful meeting. Vivek called me 'Red'... which made me chuckle. He was in fine form and it was a meeting full of laughter and brainstorming.<br /><br />Jane is asleep on the couch.... India needs a 5.2 runs per inning to win so it's a tough game. Send them good thoughts everyone!! Aim towards Trinidad and Tobago.....judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-57548161557999114622007-03-17T22:45:00.000+05:302007-03-18T09:24:33.568+05:30mistress of no spicesI had been feeling just a little 'off' for quite a while..... I can't really describe it. Just 'something in me blood' .... and it came and went. But over the last week it seemed to get worse. Several friends had colds and I thought that's what I had as I started to get a fever and a slightly sore throat. After a couple of days of it though, and not much sleep to speak of, I realised it was time to see the doctor. It's a slightly different process here in India.... no calling and hoping you can get an appointment in the next day or two. Ruchi, our wonderful R&H guest coordinator, just hopped in an auto with me and took me to the doctor's 'office' when it opened at 6:30pm. It was not far from work... near the Pop Tates in Malad. I wasn't sure what to expect... but it was a bit of a surprise! I had previously been to see an orthopaedic surgeon about a stretched nerve. He had a real office with several rooms and a doorway. This was simply a 3-sided hallway open onto the street, with chairs along the walls and a table at the end where the kindly and attractive female doctor waited for patients. I sat down, she asked what was wrong... and the consultation was conducted right there, for all the world to see as they walked by. It was certainly very different to any doctor visit I've had before. All for the bargain basement price of 50 rupees... you heard it folks... that's just over 1 US dollar. <br /><br />She was very nice, looked at my throat and said it was very very red. Listened to my chest which was clear... and took my pulse. She said I had a throat infection.... which seemed to make a lot of sense and explain the fever and the 'bad blood' feeling. I was a bit alarmed when I told her of my fibromyalgia and she didn't know of the condition, plus she didn't seem too worried about the drugs I was taking and whether they would play nicely with the ones she was prescribing. I made sure I researched them later. I got her to explain what she was writing out for me - antibiotics, a decongestant and something else I didn't quite catch. She was very caring and reassuring though... a lot of the advice was that I needed to not eat fruit, not drink anything cold and not eat ANYTHING SPICY... hehehe. A bit of a challenge here in India.... not hard but requires a bit of effort when you're not feeling at the top of your game.<br /><br />No worries.... at home it's easy (even though I can't cook)..... lots of toast and cereal and the delicious pate and crackers I have discovered. But my cupboards were pretty bare and I wasn't sure what to do for dinner tonight. So... what do you do <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRGdpbXnQmYL5WOPgiFrlHzzM8w-QmA28_E-KE7Pn2ytDmAwysSZUZBoYEcyux-37any6MRbDnEnl4wNLTNSwyFQpQ7tKC-PVjCAJoqDWfDM8K97ofPS9SMCB1TAc1GcWaXGUeQx_mHn0/s1600-h/soha.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRGdpbXnQmYL5WOPgiFrlHzzM8w-QmA28_E-KE7Pn2ytDmAwysSZUZBoYEcyux-37any6MRbDnEnl4wNLTNSwyFQpQ7tKC-PVjCAJoqDWfDM8K97ofPS9SMCB1TAc1GcWaXGUeQx_mHn0/s320/soha.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042952501480768130" /></a>when you just don't know what to eat, can't have anything Indian (which includes Chinese as that has its own indian masala added to it), and just need a little TLC when you're sick? You go to the J W Marriott for a buffett, of course! ;) It's a feast of kings, and the atmosphere and people-watching is worth the price of admission alone. Walking past the elegant bar from the fancy loos, I had a great celebrity sighting as well! At a table of four listening to what *must* have been an industry conversation, was Soha Ali Khan.... the beautiful sister of Saif Ali Khan and an actress in 2006's outstanding hit movie 'Rang De Basanti'. Wow.... she looked gorgeous... I was so excited!<br /><br />It wasn't the only Bollywood moment.... at the table right behind me sat the director <a href="http://www.indiafm.com/features/2007/02/08/2220/index.html">Madhur Bhandarkar</a>. I've really liked his films 'Corporate' and 'Page 3' and can't wait to see the recently released 'Traffic Signal'. You could almost say we were rubbing shoulders ;) <br /><br />So now... time to take #2 antibiotic. My throat is raging and the fever hasn't broken yet, but the night was fun and I am lucky enough to be having a long weekend. Lots of hindi dvd's to watch and a great book to read (Shantaram). All is well with the world.judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6253704262767350876.post-46751721985226061482007-03-17T11:09:00.000+05:302007-03-17T13:14:16.262+05:30trainspotting and no birdspottingEver since I arrived I've heard notorious stories of the local trains. Some people just frown and tell me with great seriousness that I shouldn't attempt to ride a train, others laugh and then still frown a little and tell me I'm crazy to want to go take one. I had seen the people hanging out the doors so nonchalantly and heard of them even sitting on the roof! I read in the fantastic local magazine <a href="http://www.timeoutmumbai.net/">Time Out Mumbai</a> (only 30 rupees every two weeks!) that at peak hours you get 16 people to every square metre in the compartments... first class or otherwise! They tell me the womens' compartments are even worse, with girls pulling hair and fighting to get in ;) Sounds a riot! Well.... I guess I didn't really want to go at peak hour but I definitely had to try this experience on for size.<br /><br />The perfect opportunity arose last week when one of our pipeline guys, a brilliant photographer, Chingkhei, sent mail out to the company asking if anyone was interested in a trip to the east side of the city to try and shoot the flamingos before they left for the season. Chris and I both jumped at the chance.... though as it turns out Chris was a little worse for wear after an all-night drinking escapade with the newly-formed india-fulltight group. Let me briefly explain... I had suggested we form an email alias for folks who would like to go out and partake of a drink or three on a regular basis... and thus was born india-fulltight! I couldn't go for the inaugural night.... I'd been feeling kinda sick for days and my stomach was in no shape... but I heard the die-hards were out until nearly 6am. Hardcore babeee! I don't quite know how Chris made it out with us really!<br /><br />We met Chingkhei at the Infinity Mall near my house, and got an auto to the Andheri train station. Even that was a ride in itself.... longer than I expected and on really rough roads, but through some especially colourful and exciting looking local markets that I would love to explore. We felt pretty rattled when we arrived... but three to an auto holds you in pretty tight! The story of Aditya's auto flipping over at the end of the "fulltight" night before was not reassuring however! Lucky he was a little drunk... and not hurt at all ;)<br /><br />So.... we arrive at the train station and I instantly love it. It truly is the hub of life in Mumbai.... I think half the population at any one time is at a station! That's a joke of course... but it's such a bustling lively place with so many kinds of people coming and going. I could sit there for hours. We had to stay on our toes to keep up with Chingkhei as he pushed through the crowds towards the ticket lines. I was fascinated... my eyes darting every which way trying to take it all in. The signs and colours. It would take me a while to figure out which train I would need, certainly, but Chingkhei had printed train maps and he surprised both of us by barging straight up to the front of a very long line to the ticket window... even in front of the person who was there. He explained later that if you're buying first class tickets you don't have to wait in line! I think Chris and I both had the same 'pit-of-the-stomach' feeling though.... it felt more like 'the white folks pushing in to get tickets' to us.... but before you could blink Chingkhei was back with our return trip tickets to <a href="http://tinyurl.com/24s7lq">Sewri</a>. 104 rupees was the cost per person for first class. It seemed like a bargain... but when compared to the weekly passes, let alone the regular fares we were definitely paying the top end.<br /><br />We then found our way to the correct platform and sat waiting for the train. It was an excellent chance to people-watch... and of course - be watched. I feel pretty comfortable with being a spectacle most of the time here - I think it's healthy to be out of your element and I am fascinated by the interest people show. It ranges from mild curiosity, to shy glances that break into smiles after a response, shocked stares, and of course there's always the guys that think all western women are not much more than prostitutes. Don't enjoy that so much.... but you have to take the bad with the good. 90% of the time it's all good and you can get some really great moments out of it. The security guards at my building gave me serious and mistrustful looks as I walked by to get the auto every morning. But I raised my hand in the salute of greeting so often used here, and smiled a 'hello' or 'namaste'. Now I get big smiles and nods from them in the mornings... I knew I would break them ;)<br /><br />It was pretty hot on the platform - we were catching the train at about 2pm - and with the summer coming fast the temperature was in the 30's and a bit sticky. The rush of cool air as the trains poured in to the platform was welcome. When our train arrived we quickly got up and headed to the first-class carriage. We knew not to be fooled by the moniker, it's only first class because of some padding on the seats and less people able to afford to go it in it... hence potentially less crowded. But it's simple and grimy and real and I loved it. We got seats and I took some photos... the other men on the train thinking I was a loony I'm sure. ;) <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUyT4yYD1V_OlNlMneVAw-tCymHGKdxzeCPaxVvGFIv_n75D34T46ie61jZCszm2mIqEA2gha5LbVXgeSGHLlpStPKa52s5an_KWMP_XXisgPl21Jh6PbrXA2AzKaEfyVLC7HsgX3fSng/s1600-h/train4.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUyT4yYD1V_OlNlMneVAw-tCymHGKdxzeCPaxVvGFIv_n75D34T46ie61jZCszm2mIqEA2gha5LbVXgeSGHLlpStPKa52s5an_KWMP_XXisgPl21Jh6PbrXA2AzKaEfyVLC7HsgX3fSng/s320/train4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042779182370505282" /></a> I thoroughly enjoyed the ride. Firstly... it was SMOOTH.... a travelling sensation I realised I hadn't felt in so long. Even when we're in a fancy modern car we're still at the mercy of the bumpy Bombay roads ... and suddenly we were gliding along with not a ripple. It was wonderful. People came and went and we counted down our stations. I could have sat there for quite a long time though... just enjoying the ride. I'm sure it makes a big difference when you catch a train like that from the beginning of its route as well. Guaranteed a seat ;)<br /><br />At Sewri Station it was quite different. There was a lot of loud noise, strong smells I won't describe to you (teehee), and people rushing everywhere. We weren't sure which way to go.... but it turned out we had to walk right along side the train tracks and out across some other tracks to head towards the mud flats. As I saw people just casually walking all over the tracks I could see how it was that so many are killed by trains each year. It seems so odd to see them walking along the tracks themselves... I kept waiting for the voice of a guard to call out and stop them... but it's just normal here.<br /><br />Chingkhei asked several people for directions to the waterfront.. and we headed down streets bordered with small restaurants and tea stands. We were definitely firangs in a foreign land ;) ...everyone stared... this was right away from the main city and much more like some other parts of India in the feel of the street life. As we walked further and further on, it was as if we left Mumbai behind and entered a poor industrial village. It was very muddy and the people were of tiny wiry build - hard physical labourers you could tell. But lovely grimy kids with big smiles and "hello auntie how are you", laughing as we came by. Suddenly we hit a little mound of dirt and mud.. climbed over and onto a 'road' being used by big trucks - we were right in some industrial zone and away from everything now. There was mud everywhere and we appeared to be walled in from the sea by a giant concrete and barbed wire wall that looked impenetrable. We headed along... avoiding the puddles as best we could, past derelict worksites, trucks and workmen playing cards. They didn't look up, which I admired. There also seemed to be more cards on the muddy ground than on the table ... so I don't know what the state of the game was!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi56ZkMfraO9Gk9vh4bnvkaf-IwUEeVYx6WTCcUTR8ujaPANge02WJsy-3tE9OaUf4XES5_F53HaC_HmNqla0Lhsg2Xk7xYcZqstJd4yInL-txURTqhs6X4iWG17GMRx9ED2OXT1MT0uwQ/s1600-h/boat8.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi56ZkMfraO9Gk9vh4bnvkaf-IwUEeVYx6WTCcUTR8ujaPANge02WJsy-3tE9OaUf4XES5_F53HaC_HmNqla0Lhsg2Xk7xYcZqstJd4yInL-txURTqhs6X4iWG17GMRx9ED2OXT1MT0uwQ/s320/boat8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042790654228152946" /></a><br />Eventually we reached a street again... and I saw a sign pointing to the Sewri MudFlats. A concrete jetty with seemingly abandoned but actually very much alive boats, marked the spot. We could see the tide was going out as we saw mangroves poke their heads above the water. We walked around one side along the rocky beach, littered with items of clothing that looked like they had once belonged on a Bollywood film set.... glittering purples, yellows and reds, all covered in dirt and torn and battered. No more life left in them. It was sad to see so much litter along the coastline, but inevitable that the dirt from the streets would find itself into the environment like this.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRaQzvEyInzfTDtRjUAOAtMpsDcAnNKuASN335tVpGRHFOloj46CdgyD4nQ7U9po8TJijdkY80ZLSndM7QeExtMGFHpx72pvuyA2d_SNoMnh1ipP66eMK1ldnN6jlC3KSUwTM1mk1ezGA/s1600-h/boat4.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRaQzvEyInzfTDtRjUAOAtMpsDcAnNKuASN335tVpGRHFOloj46CdgyD4nQ7U9po8TJijdkY80ZLSndM7QeExtMGFHpx72pvuyA2d_SNoMnh1ipP66eMK1ldnN6jlC3KSUwTM1mk1ezGA/s200/boat4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042787179599610450" /></a> It was pretty clear that we weren't going to find any flamingos. We kinda realised as we looked though, that there would be many hiding places for them along the spreading coastline towards the distant power plant.. and if I was a flamingo I probably wouldn't have hung out right next to the jetty where the people were! There was a pleasant breeze though, and after all the walking and hot sun it was very welcome. A man near us invited us to come aboard one of the boats to take photos of the flats from a closer view, so we braved the 'plank'... a precarious gangway, and stood there for a long time taking it all in.<br /><br />We began to notice the different kinds of terns and gulls that were flying around... all fishing from the air. They would hover and dive from a great height into the water to come out with a fish. Quite dramatic. Chingkhei was taking lots of photos with his big lens... I didn't take mine out as I just didn't feel I was good enough to take that kind of shot. Manual focusing in mid-air on a flying bird?... I need a little more practise before I do that ;)<br /><br />The train ride home was even better. More crowded this time, we had to stand, and after a while I took the position by the open doorway with Chingkhei. There is something very freeing about standing there, holding onto the centre pole, head out into the rushing wind, your body feeling the power of the train move through space. You could fall out without anyone even noticing, and it's a heady rush. Nothing to these seasoned Mumbaikers I know.... but for lil' ole kiwi me it's most fun and I look forward to my next journey on the local trains.judehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12927442663756605223noreply@blogger.com0