Follicle Blues The Holi blue? Not quite gone from my hair. Getting there, though.
Thunderstorm! Delhi knows how to put on a show. Over the last several days, there have been at least three instances of dark clouds rolling in, lightning streaking across the sky, then sheets – sheets! – of rain pouring down. It’s awesome, unless you are caught in it. The walk from the gym back to the hotel building, I got soaked through. There have been lots of power blips. When the power goes out, I like to look out my window where I can see two 20-storey buildings across the quad. It’s fun to suddenly watch the power come back, the center lights of the stairwell blinking to life first.
Honey!I love honey, as many of you probably know (if you’ve seen the honey stash on my desk back home). After I scoped out my supermarket, I started systematically trying out all the different honey brands here (there are quite a few.) Just as I discovered my absolute favorite, the supermarket inexplicably stopped carrying it. They also started phasing out Tropicana 100% juice. Then the Nutella went. A conspiracy I’m sure. Not expecting much, I wandered down to the next big intersection in the opposite direction. To my surprise, I found an “Easy Day” supermarket that not only had 100% Tropicana and Nutella, but lots and lots of Hitkary Honey!
Yeah. I stocked up.
Taxi Fail? We have had some taxi issues… like them completely not showing up yesterday. Luckily, we work close and it is easy to catch an auto from outside our hotel. I’ve talked a lot with the owner this week. I think we’re settled. I guess we’ll find out.
Cable! I had been jealous of Chris and Peter because they told me tales of this new “cable box” they received that had non-fuzzy new channels! Here I’ve been making do with mostly-visible movies on WB. Their end of the building must have gotten the box first. I was not jealous, however, when they talked about all the little bugs coming up through the drain into their places, though. All things being equal, I’d rather have no TV than have bugs. (Or maybe Guido is having big bug feasts while I’m at work?) On the first of the month, the TV died completely, as apparently planned. Tonight, though, the cable box dude came. I have new channels and they are clear and crisp! The lack of TV gave me motivation to dig into the thick novel, Pillars of the Earth. So far, very good.
Leave a comment! And I have converted my blog to WordPress! You can leave a comment now! (Assuming I did it right… and that you are inclined to.)
Wednesday: Haldiram’s! My co-worker looked at me and said “Haldiram.” I said, “What?” He said, “Haldiram.” I said, “I have no idea what that is.” He said, “That’s okay.” A little while later, the team went down to lunch, but instead of the elevator stopping at the cafeteria floor, everyone got off at the parking lot. I thought it was a mistake at first. But not at all! We were spontaneously going to Haldiram’s! Haldiram’s turned out to be a popular order-at-the-counter style restaurant (with a fair number of little homeless kids outside, though, which made me sad.)
A co-worker calls this chain, “street food style, but hygienic” He knows what’s important to me
The place was busy. You could order a variety of traditional North Indian, South Indian, Chinese, and snacks. I had something called a Tandoori Platter which was pretty good, but their specialty is “chole bhature” which I’ll translate as “poofy fried bread with spicy garbanzo bean sauce”. My co-workers called the Haldiram’s chain the best, cheapest lunch around, at a couple bucks (the cafeteria food for a buck at work doesn’t count I guess.) Glad I didn’t bring my lunch today!
Thursday: Restaurant Week! Who knew, they have Restaurant Week in Delhi! I perused the restaurants. The Indian food ones were the most popular. I settled on a European style one called “Tres” due to the variety of food offered on their set menu. And, yum. Best Meal So Far. Finally, a chance to have meat other than chicken or mutton, which are your only meat options at the average “non-veg” restaurant here. I swear that was the best chorizo I’ve ever had. And wow, did I miss red wine. And, everything was so CLEAN including the restrooms. You would never, ever be able to tell from the outside that this was a high-end kind of place (though apparently it was in a high-end neighborhood; couldn’t tell in the dark), so yay for Restaurant Week.
The cost? Almost precisely the same as Denver Restaurant Week. About $25 a head. Hmm. Getting there? This was the hard part. I thought I did an excellent job giving early notice and clear, detailed instructions to our normal cab guy. But my confidence was shattered when the driver showed up at 6:30am to my place for no reason at all. (Unless he was mixing up 6:30am and 6:30pm, but what restaurant serves dinner at 6:30am? Except Denny’s. No Denny’s here.) Pretty sure he didn’t understand and unable to explain it any clearer, I also booked Easy Cabs, then made the mistake of reading Easy Cabs reviews in which I heard all the sob stories about them never showing up. But it all turned out fine. Everyone showed up when they were supposed to (I didn’t cancel our normal cab until the last minute just in case; they ended up both arriving at the same time. No idea where our normal driver thought he was taking us since the owner never confirmed anything. Felt a little guilty for the last minute cancelling, but not terribly much so.)
Friday: Cabana Cocktail party! On Thursday, an envelope was left in our rooms with an invitation in it. Our hotel was throwing a PR party. We walked over. In typical Indian hosting-hundreds-of-people fashion, there was a buffet that did not open until 9pm, lots of covered tables and chairs, and a dance floor. The free alcohol was an unusual draw and it became increasingly popular mainly with the men over the course of the evening. The DJ was blasting the music. And, like the Ring Ceremony I had been to a couple months back, the guys and gals alike danced their hearts out, moving sometimes in unison and often lip-synching the lyrics. The hosts seemed to periodically be giving out random wrapped gifts to the Best Dancer or something, but we were not really paying attention. We all got pulled up to dance later, which actually was kind of fun even though I didn’t know any of the music (except, again, Gangnam Style.) Problem with dancing: there is no one to hold my purse.
Anyway, so a little while later, the two friendly ladies pulled us up, yet again, to dance. This time, after only a few minutes, I heard over the loudspeaker, “And the winner goes to the lady with the brown hair!” They repeated it. I had this feeling they meant me, even though I would have described myself as the only woman in the room WITHOUT brown hair. Yep, they did. I guess they wanted to give the foreign lady a prize (and photograph it) really badly, because I certainly wasn’t doing any fancy dances in my sneakers while holding my purse. After that, a less creepy older guy followed by a more creepy younger guy starting dancing with me (I was still awkwardly holding the present). The younger got a phone call (and cell phones rule here) so I took the opportunity to escape back to the others.
I opened the present next day and to my surprise: random art! And I like it. The colors are lovely. I may even keep it.
This’ll really pull the room together…
Saturday: Road trip! I joined a group called “Delhi Road Trips” on an ex-pat site. They decided to have an introductory lunch meeting in a little town called Karnal a couple hours north. The guys organizing it were awesome and even got me a lift from my place! The retired major and his wife totally took me under their wing. At any rate, the six of us plus driver had a stimulating conversion as we headed to a new state: Haryana. (That makes four states, five including Delhi, I’ve managed to see so far.) We talked about whether marriage makes one happier and about whether destiny was pre-determined. Big stuff for people who had mostly just met. The place we were headed called “Haveli” was unexpectedly closed due to either a kitchen fire or a labor strike, depending on who we asked, but we hung around for a while to wait for the others in our group to show (we were super early – all being punctual-type people.)
Multiple Marriage Lawns… but only One Luxurious Room: A Unique Theme Resort Indeed!
So, we got some snacks to hold us over and hung around and took photographs. This resort was in the middle of nowhere, but pretty fun, even closed. In fact, it is a chain, and we passed a smaller “Haveli” on the way up. We took photos and sat, chatting and to my utterly huge unbelievable excitement, starting to plan a Leh trip! Earlier, I discovered another person in the group shared my passion for this crazy Himalayas road trip idea to the north. Amazingly, they seem keen on planning as well! Serendipitously wonderful!
(Getting in my monkey – and monkeying around – quota for the post)
Probably the most fun part of the Saturday road trip, besides the great conversation with a very cool group of folks, was the palm reader. All the ladies (and one of the gentlemen) took a turn. The reader himself, who had his booth stacked with palmistry books, asked for my name and age and then looked at my left hand and told me a lot of things while another person translated for me. He was surprisingly accurate about my relationship issues.
The group of us getting our fortunes told
No one else – out of the seventeen people who said they intended to come – showed up, but we enjoyed the small group atmosphere. We headed back to the first Haveli (quite hungry at that point) and two others had just arrived, coincidentally, thinking that this was the Haveli we were meeting at. Lunch was good. Had too much lassi, but not a bad thing. I’m having as much lassi and chai as I can possibly have while in India. (Side note: a few different people have been surprised that I know what “chai” is… they don’t realize that their local tea has spread all over the world.) The waiters all wore little vests and genie pointed shoes, it was cute. We took some photos there as well and I had a kulfi for the first time, which was a milky ice cream bar that tasted like cardamom (a spice I only know because it is a setting on our work tea machine). Not bad. I’ve heard advice to avoid dairy / ice cream in India. Yeah, not happening.
Delhi Road Trip Group! (some of us at least)
Also… I’m thinking about moving to Orange County.
(totally stole this image)
The apartment high-rise complex across the street (called Orange County, seriously) has three-bedroom furnished apartments (including a sauna, gym, and pool building) for a little over half the price I’m paying now. I checked out a few rooms. First one was so dirty, I almost didn’t look again. Next one they showed me was better. Then they showed me the adorably furnished one (with art and a purple wall in the side bedroom). Yep, they know what they’re doing. Gotta decide if it is worth the security deposit, agent commission, and all the other hassle / extra expense of having an apartment.
My spinning ceiling fans (on Level 3) were keeping me just cool enough at night, but it’s time to step it up.
Actually, though, it is not as much the warming temperature, but the fact that A/C discourages mosquitoes that prompted me to ask the front desk three times in three days to please come up and get the A/C working for me. I got munched a couple nights ago by a ninja mosquito and got out the aerosol spray for the first time. Although they made the spray smell nice, I don’t like the idea of spraying poison in the air.
One maintenance dude had to lift a shelf that I did not know lifted and plug the things in while the other *stood out on the ledge* and fiddled with something out there. They double checked that I still didn’t want my heater (which had been using the A/C socket) before taking it away. No thanks.
Delhi is less humid than I expected. Although it certainly is warm out in the middle of the day, not brutally so, not yet. I still enjoyed a hot chai after lunch in the outdoor food stalls outside work, though the market has been becoming popular with flies lately.
My brilliant method for looking for an apartment so far has been to:
Walk in a nearby shop with the word Real Estate in it
Search on 99acres.com (and send messages to the dealers using their system)
Map the address of an agency in several results on 99acres.com and walk there
Method 1 worked pretty well, getting me the possible “Orange County” apartment, 3-bedroom, fully furnished, for $550/month. Pretty good deal. However, there is a 2-month (at least) security deposit and 1-month finders fee. That’s 3 months rent worth of fees when I’m only going to be here 8 more months, not to mention I’ll have to pay for all my utilities and internet. There is still savings compared to my current place, no doubt, but not enough to make me take it right away.
So Method 2 confused me, implying that 30,000 rupees ($550) was way too much. Every search result was under that amount. My co-workers, however, told me that 30,000 was about what I would expect to pay and that the internet prices were just to get you in the door. (Incidentally, my co-workers quoted 25,000 for a 2-bedroom. It’s surprisingly difficult to find a one-bedroom apartment.) Sending messages to the dealers did get through, but not always as quickly as I hoped. I also learned that nothing was available in Sector 62 near my work, despite that I can SEE a lot of apartments there.
Method 3 has been the most interesting. I found the real estate agency called “Shubham Assocates” right where Google said it’d be and talked to some folk who spoke very little English but understood it pretty well. This led to the last 24 hours, which has involved all sorts of emotions like excitement and frustration and fear and confusion and fun. But I satisfied my curiosity. I’ve seen apartments in several societies now. My real estate guides were two twenty-something guys who took me from place to place on the back of their motorbikes. Notably, using this form of transportation did not stop them from taking cell phone calls from various apartment owners as they organized the venture, holding the phone in one hand while they steered, controlled the throttle, and braked with the other. My normal Delhi vehicle internal monologue of ohmygod, don’t hit that truck/car/auto/woman/motorbike/bicycle/dog/cow was a bit more persistent since a mistake would involve me in the hospital, not just me mildly injured or inconvenienced.
View from 14th Floor of “Exotica Elegance”
They couldn’t always get the keys to places they asked me to meet them at. But they didn’t like to tell me until I’d already walked through the 97-degree weather to the complex in question and waited about 20 minutes. That led to the “frustration” part of my emotions. They did always have a backup place in mind, though.
Problem is, I have not actually found one I liked yet. My favorite complex so far “ATS Advantage” right across the street only has “semi-furnished” apartments which means no beds, couches, or tables. I don’t want to deal with having to buy/sell furniture so that’s out. “Exotica Elegance” had cute, furnished apartments, but no TV and the gym looked like it was for storing, not using, exercise equipment, the ellipticals were so tightly packed. “V3S Indralok” was the cheapest by far at less than 20,000 ($330) but it was farther away and not in as nice a neighborhood. Not sure I’d be comfortable there. The other ones they showed me in Orange County were either not completely furnished or quite nearly as expensive as the original 30,000.
(They really wanted me to close a deal with them today or tomorrow morning. But the best offer they had was 22,000 for a mostly-furnished two bedroom. The only catch was… they hadn’t actually shown me that place, yet.)
So, apartments in Delhi… The ones I’m looking at are in “the best housing societies” in the area so theoretically pretty nice comparably. These societies all tend to be gated (with armed guards) and have several high-rises surrounding a park and a pool. The ones I looked had nice furniture, but oddly small living rooms, and thin mattresses. (I have yet to see a thick mattress in India.) None had bathtubs, but there were usually several bathrooms (with a variety of toilet cleanliness level). All the ones I looked at had not just one, but multiple balconies, and a special washroom by the kitchen. The lobbies, if you could call them that, had a functional feel – just concrete walls – and the elevators were slow and not very confidence inspiring; the fitness centers varied wildly. My favorite parts were the awesome views of the city from so high. These apartments are not the luxurious ones you might find in an ex-pat neighborhood in South Delhi – these are clearly used by Indian families. In short, they are just good enough to do the job for this picky American girl.
In other fun news, I got to go to another Indian Wedding! And this time, they did the Walking-Around-The-Fire (the real, final part of the marriage ceremony) before the buffet, so I got to see it! And I even got a spot near the front.
The wedding was for (breath) the Major’s daughter’s husband’s cousin. And it was colorful, large, and beautiful as always. A funny side issue was that I had a doctor’s appointment at 8am the next morning for my insurance, so I was required to fast for 12 hours beforehand. And of course, the buffet didn’t start until 9:30pm. But the Major’s wife was very insistent that the fast was really only meant to be *10* hours and made sure I ate plenty at the buffet right up until 10pm.
I’ve been continuing to avoid raw veggies – that I didn’t wash myself – and ice. But my attempt to avoid ice cream is simply not happening. I might get back on the wagon during the summer months, just because I know there will be more outages. I still amazingly have not gotten badly sick! I still expect it to happen any day as I’ve gradually become less careful.
This week is Navratri in India, a special nine-day festival with a lot of celebrations and, more to the point, special fasting rules. Some people avoid grains, meat, garlic, and onions. Others only consume fruit and milk for the whole nine days. Having a wedding buffet during this time meant they were also apparently obligated to provide a special “Navratri” version. Our cafeteria at work also has a special version of the usual choices for this festival. It is apparently a very big deal, but I didn’t even know about it (the reason being because I don’t get any days off work. I always notice the festivals which involve a day off work.) I’m eating my usual assortment of food.
Maybe I’ll try a sari next time…?
At any rate, it was perfect weather for this outdoor wedding (the food was indoors.) Instead of a receiving line, the bride and groom set themselves up on stage with a professional photographer. Then, everyone who comes through gets to greet the bride and groom AND have their photo taken with them. Good system!
When we went through, they asked where I was from and I told them. Then I said, “I came all the way from America just to come to this wedding,” and I got some laughs. “That’s a long way,” they said. They were really friendly. I’ve heard brides and grooms are usually exhausted by this point, but they looked good.
The Major was trying to help me solve my apartment problem. (He knows everyone!) He could offer me a comparably-priced place, but only one with a much longer commute, close to an hour. Not sure I can do that, but it was a very kind offer.
Even hanging in through the Turning On of The Air Conditioner
The oddest part of the very quick home medical test was the electrocardiogram thing. Felt vaguely like I was being hooked up to The Machine, with the suction cups and all. But otherwise, it all went smoothly.
I was very proud of myself this week. Every week at work, someone on our team does a “tech focus” where we talk about something cool we know or learned. It was my week. I’m bad at thinking of things, but I had a couple small ideas, nothing that was making me excited. Then the previous presenter gave me an idea and I went with it. I learned how to create a Browser Add-On! It took a couple web tutorials and a couple late nights, but I did it! I created a very silly add-on for Firefox.
If you’re curious, right-click Affirmations.XPI and do Save Link As… Then, once you have it saved, open Firefox and go to the Tools menu and choose Add-ons. Then drag the file into the window (or use the gear menu and choose Install Add-on From File) and you should get the pop-up asking if you want to install. Install. You may have to hit Enable after it is added to the list, then restart Firefox. You should then see a new item in the Tools menu called “Affirmations”. If you choose it, you’ll get a little encouraging pop-up message. (If you have View->Tools->Add-on bar checked, you will also see a new icon in the lower right corner that does the same thing.) Simple, silly, and not nearly as hard as I expected. Though apparently, doing the same thing in Internet Explorer would be horribly, terribly hard.
What makes Firefox Add-ons fun is that, if you want to change it, like to add additional inspirational messages, all you have to do is change .xpi to .zip (you may have to tell your computer to show you extensions), and look in the files yourself. The files needed for an add-on are only XML, HTML, Javascript, and CSS pretty much. Nothing super complicated; you can make any change you want in Notepad. Then change the file extension back to .xpi and re-drag to install it again. (Commercial add-ons are signed preventing you from making changes without re-signing, but mine ain’t signed.)
We felt the earthquake that hit the border of Iran/Pakistan this afternoon. It was not very strong in Delhi, but it was unmistakable on the third floor. It was short, just a couple little heaves.
My surprise was that, the second the earthquake happened, everyone in the office got out of their seats and proceeded toward the doors of the stairs. “This happens sometimes,” one of our co-workers told us as we walked. Because the earthquake clearly was not bad, people were talking amiably, not particularly hurrying, as if the entire company had spontaneously decided to go on break. The guards held the door for us. The speed with which all the residents of this business complex emptied was like an elementary schoolteacher’s fire drill practice dream come true.
So, a day before I move into my 12th floor apartment (yep, I got that 2-bedroom in Orange County) is when I find out Delhi is on some kind of fault and is due for a Big One. D’oh. My complex does advertise “earthquake resistant” building methods, though… At any rate, our co-workers said this had happened two other times in the last year. It looks like evacuation is standard procedure across Delhi and everyone is eager to comply. Not a bad thing.
The employees of the various companies hanging out in the sun, waiting for the OK to go back inside
My other earthquake experiences (all minor ones) have been in Japan. At this level of earthquake, the office workers in Tokyo will barely look up from their computers, let alone leave the building. Then again, we postulated that the the buildings in Japan are built a little more sturdily. (And earthquakes happen more frequently there I think.)
I’m in my new place! A two-bedroom in a “housing society” called Orange County, really. It’s well known as a pretty swank place to live, apparently. It’s nice enough. The rent is $450/month. The utilities (water, gas, electricity and society fees) are approximately $60/month. I pre-pay cash to the maintenance folk on the first floor.
For all the talk about India’s bureaucracy, the paperwork didn’t seem worse than renting an apartment in the U.S. The owner, the real estate guys and I gathered in a room on a Sunday, the day after I looked at the place, and we signed all the pages of the lease. Then I handed over a bunch of cash. (Everyone involved insisted on cash and the real estate agents got a full month’s rent commission.) I learned the daily limit of my ATM withdrawal (about $1000) but the owner let me pay the deposit and first month’s rent the following day.
Tower 10, 12th Floor (Notice lack of a 13th floor)
The friendly owner and his family (three other adults and a small child – wow, what a squeeze) were there when I came to see it the place both times and he told me he was willing to leave major items for me to use, like a couch, chairs, bed, table, coffee table, and TV. Because of the rent savings from my only other viable option (a 3-bedroom fully furnished for $560), I agreed, not realizing he did not intend to include a fridge, stove, microwave nor any other furniture whatsoever.
The front door. (No, that is not a demon over it. No, that is not a swastika. Keep telling myself that.)
I discovered later that he never intended to leave anything at all. This left me wondering why I had even been shown this place as I had specifically requested fully furnished. The owner and his family apparently really wanted to help the foreign lady out. (Honestly, it’s just making me feel guilty.) What’s irritating is that all the money I saved by not getting the three bedroom, I’ve just blown on appliances. The owner said that he could reimburse me for any cost I spent in buying appliances, and I believe he intends to… it’s just that once I’m back in the U.S. that is one of those really easy things to “forget” to do. Even before I started looking, I assumed that the chances I’d actually get my security deposit back were about 1 in 5.
Living Room / Bedroom / Kitchen
The owner is super nice and not only left the active cable box but went out of his way to renew it with additional English movie channels so it wasn’t all Hindi. Apparently, the furniture (which is really quite nice and looks brand new) was something he got at the start of his marriage. Feel sort of bad about that and even offered to let him have it back. But he said the ladies (his mother and wife I assume) insisted. He gave me an excellent tour of the facilities and basics before he left and has kept in close contact with me ever since, making sure I’m doing well and have what I need.
Bathroom
My apartment has two bathrooms. One more than I need, but that’s fine. No bathtub, of course, but I’m lucky just to have a barrier between the (overly gadgety) shower and toilet.
A Geyser
A “geyser” in India is something you really need, as it heats the water for the rest of your apartment. It is pronounced “geezer” and apparently does not spark thoughts of water spurting out 100 feet in the minds of the locals. And it creates some HOT water.
Guess what my apartment does not have any of? I did not realize it until I started moving things in. Look at the floor plan. Anything missing?
This has everything! Except…
The floor plan is almost a perfect mirror image of mine, except for the location of the sink. Yep, three balconies! I am not a fan of the living room as it is narrow and right in the circulation zone, one of my biggest pet peeves left over from architecture school, but the kitchen is quite spacious. Architecture school also taught me one thing that is often overlooked, as it doesn’t look good in a floor plan: storage space. Yes, ladies and gentleman. There is not one single closet. To be fair, yes there is a wardrobe in each bedroom. So my clothes have a place to go. Know what doesn’t have a place? Linens. Towels. Jackets. General-purpose stuff that I don’t need out in the open. Even the bathroom does not have a single shelf. Nowhere to put vitamins, antibiotics, extra toilet paper, or my feminine hygiene products. Because I didn’t get any furniture either, my books and desk supplies also don’t have a place.
I do suspect I just have more crap than most Indians. That wardrobe in the second bedroom is my current storage area. How four adults and a child lived here is still beyond me as this feels just adequate for me. And this is without the room full of stuff I still have in the States.
Fun from the 12th floor View from my balcony
So I bought a fridge and a microwave from the nearby Orange County shopping center’s electronics store. From a very attentive saleswoman. At absolutely full American-level prices. (The microwave was about $130, even! Where’s Target when you need it?) And when I saw the washing machines I just melted. I am SO SICK of washing my clothes. Even though the owner of the apartment mentioned the location of a self-serve laundromat (which I still have not found incidentally), I decided that I probably wouldn’t want to be carrying laundry in the heat/rain. It has already hit 100 degrees here. Luckily, it’s not humid, but it is starting to get pretty uncomfortable being outside for too long carrying groceries, etc. And it is not even the hottest month yet.
They have “semi-automatic” washing machines. What’s that, you ask? It means you have to take your clothes out of the main compartment and put them in a smaller compartment for the spin cycle. I was easily talked into fully automatic.
Anyway, so once they realized I was serious, I got sat at a comfy table, an air conditioner was put right beside me, I was served water and tea, and generally was treated like a queen, despite wearing the silly T-shirt I got from our St. Baldrick’s activity day at work. I admit, it is kind of nice to be pampered. My “asking for a combo purchase discount” got me a free $40 stainless steel electric kettle I had my eye on. Something, anyway.
More fun from the 12th floor
So a couple days later, four young guys delivered all my purchases. More accurately, they delivered the fridge and kettle. Then when I pointed that there was a third thing on their sheet, they came back up 12 floors with the microwave. Then when I pointed out the washing machine on the second sheet, they had to go back down for that as well. Then, and only then, did I sign their form.
Very luckily, a neighbor lady of mine had stopped by. Without her there, they might have made me figure out on my own how to get the fridge and washing machine out of the boxes where they were tightly styrofoamed. (It took three of them working together to do it successfully.) They unpacked, plugged the fridge in, and put it in place. I only realized two hours later that they never turned the outlet on. Seriously, people. I’m the one from a country where we don’t have switches next to the outlets.
But the real challenge was the washing machine.
Spatial Conundrum
Yeah. The only place for a washing machine is on the balcony off the kitchen (and indeed, that is where I’ve seen it at other apartments.) But the only outlet is behind the door. The water inlet (cold water only) is also behind the door. The drain? You guessed it. On the opposite side. WTF?
A drain on my resources
So, my washing machine ended up at an awkward angle right in the middle of the balcony. Giving the problem a little thought, I figured putting a bucket with a hole in it was a clever solution. Except that the hole was not quite overlapping the drain, so I painstakingly poked additional holes in the hard plastic. That worked slightly better. Keeping the hose up with plastic and packing tape: not working as well. But good enough until I get something better.
Still, I am loving my washing machine and its automatic spin cycle (my clothes dry so fast!) even if it causes a bit of a wet mess on the balcony when it drains.
I hung out with the neighbors today. The owner of the place knew them well and introduced them to me before I even moved in. The couple and their two sons lived in New Jersey and California (their younger son is, in fact, an American Citizen) as did the brother and his wife and two daughters, so they are easy to talk with and understand (and have already been translating for me). I met the whole extended family today. Along with having a lovely time chatting with the 10-year old girl who speaks English in a wonderful American accent, I also learned that they had a similar conundrum with their washing machine. Their solution: extending everything. The input, the plug, and the drain pipe. Only the middle one I can do on my own.
Go home, architect, you’re drunk
The club is quite nice. The facilities are similar to Cabana’s. Four treadmills, two stationary bikes, two ellipticals, and a variety of weight machines and free weights. There is a spa with a jacuzzi and sauna apparently. I haven’t tried it yet. My favorite is the room clearly signed “Restaurant” but is just an empty room where they hold yoga classes. My neighbor told me the yoga classes are at 5am and 5pm and cost about $15/month. Hmmm.
View from neighbor’s balcony
I have a maid.
I decided to just keep the owner’s maid at $20/month since that was the easiest transition for both of us. She speaks Not One Word of English. I was very nervous the first day. I thought it would be really awkward. However, it wasn’t awkward for her. She is obviously way more comfortable and familiar with the house and her duties than I, so (after showing her where I had put the supplies I had purchased based off an extensive list the owner had texted me a few days previous) she just did her stuff and even helped me dispose of the refrigerator and washing machine styrofoam and boxes. She seems pretty on the ball. She mops / wipes the whole floor, including balconies, and does the dishes. I thought it was weird that she came 7 days a week so I had the neighbor tell her not to come on Sunday (but that I’d still pay her the same, which I’m sure she disapproved of. Except the girl is already getting more money out of me than from the owner. He first said 800 rupees, then suddenly switched to 1000. Yep. Foreigner tax. Whatever. It still comes out to less than $2/hr which, you know, yikes.)
There is an older guard at the bottom of the elevator. He seems super friendly and smiles a lot. Also: Not a word of English. Even numbers. I actually got to use my Hindi numbers to tell him the flat number (this is when I was just visiting the owner on my own.) A few times, he really tried to tell me something and I really tried to understand. Just wasn’t happening.
One thing I like is that this place, unlike Cabana, has a really easy address to tell people over the phone. Everyone knows Orange County. I tell them my tower number and flat number and that’s it. So far, I’ve had all sorts of delicious food delivered with no problems.
Other things I like:
That I have an apartment
Cool view from, count ’em, three balconies
Big kitchen with RO (reverse osmosis water filter) built in.
Good-sized bedroom with wardrobe and master bath (that has decent water pressure even)
An exhaust fan in the kitchen and bathroom (most places I have lived have NOT had one of these – or a working one at any rate) and ceiling fans everywhere else
Cable and a good-sized flatscreen TV
Nice, helpful neighbors
Nice floors, fake wood in bedrooms, tile in living kitchen
Things I don’t like:
Insufficient outlets in kitchen. One for the fridge, one for the RO, one too high to reach, and one for everything else (microwave, rice cooker, kettle, etc), all of which have high-voltage plugs that regular multi-plug power cords do NOT have, so I have to use the devices one at a time
The lack of closets or shelves anywhere except for the wardrobe
Difficult washing machine setup
That the bedroom and balcony doors lock. Just seems like a bad idea.
No A/C in the living room! (This will be the end of me.)
Small living room
Lack of a screen front door (like the neighbors have) but at least I have screens on many other windows.
A video from my balcony taken from my camera. Not all that exciting, but you know. (Should work in Chrome and Firefox if all my converting worked.)
We spent a long weekend in Jaipur ostensibly for Buddy’s daughter’s birthday (the big First Birthday in India… like a Bar Mitzvah for a baby) but also to check out the “Pink City” because, well, why not. It’s a point on the Golden Triangle after all. And Buddy’s hometown.
Buddy helped us figure out the train schedule and what was available, then he booked tickets for us for our first Indian Train Experience. I think a lot of trains, especially during school’s summer break starting in May, are booked months in advance, but he was able to get us seats in the air conditioned car with just a week’s notice except for the return trip Sunday night. So we opted for a different style train on Sunday morning instead. One way for one person for the four-and-a-half-hour journey cost about $10. And included breakfast. Can’t beat that.
Catching the 6:05am Shatabdi Express (Advice: sometimes, it is good not to tune out those background announcements… because you might find out that the platform your train is actually on is contrary to what the sign at the front said) The “veg” breakfast included some kind of potato kebab, mango juice, some thin slices of bland bread, and some butter. The non-veg version just replaced the potato thing with an omelet.
This train, the Shatabdi Express is the second fastest train in India, second only to the even more prestigious Rajdhani Express. I thought it was a bit run down and the seats were close together, but it was nice enough and the air conditioning worked perfectly. Most of the seats were taken, but no one clogged up the aisles or anything (like I’ve heard they do in other train types / classes. I just read in the Wiki article I linked to that the reason is that no “unreserved” tickets are sold for Shatabdi trains.) We received a bottle of water – “India Rail” brand – a newspaper and hot tea almost right away. Then we were served breakfast, though it took some prodding for them to bring the “non-veg” breakfast out. I think they had forgotten about it. But they were using plastic gloves! That made me so happy. The cutlery (real silverware) was wrapped up nicely as well. Only the straw wasn’t wrapped. Not bad, India Rail!
The landscape was mostly grasslands punctuated by several trees and the occasional hill. Near towns, though, it was less fun to look out the window because the railroad tracks are apparently the preferred location for doing your duty. Those guys did not seem to mind that the entire train could see them. Toilets per capita in India I’m sure is a low number indeed.
Because our co-worker Buddy is awesome, he picked us up from the railway station. (One beggar outside touched me on the arm, ew. I’m starting to become used to the begging but I do NOT like being touched anywhere on my person. I probably overreacted with my “Don’t touch me, don’t touch me!”, but whatever.) And since Buddy’s amazing awesomeness was unending, he actually lent us his car and driver for the ENTIRE day and night. Whoa. The hotel we found using a combination of Buddy’s recommendations and MakeMyTrip.com’s reservations was a ten minute walk (and a five-minute drive due to oddly-organized roads) from the station and oh, the luxury of a five-star hotel. I think we only paid $50/night using MakeMyTrip but seems like it should have been more. Everything was so clean. So clean, that it almost seemed like I could drink or brush my teeth from the tap water. But I didn’t.
Country Inn Because we were due for a splurge
After checking in and dropping off our luggage, we headed out. One of Buddy’s recommended places to see was close by and immediately stood out to us from the car because of its nifty architecture. The Albert Hall. We may have went into its museum if we had realized the price we saw was for a Composite Ticket (that included most of the sites around Jaipur) and not just for this single museum. We were balking (for some reason) at 7 bucks. At our next stop, we got the Composite Ticket that included Albert Hall for the same price, but never made it back there to see the museum. So we just had fun taking photos instead.
The Albert Hall (I did not count all the holes.)
My favorite part about Jaipur was the Old Walled City in the middle. This is the “cute town center” I had looked for, but failed to find, in Aurangabad, which had led me to wonder of its existence outside Delhi at all. But wonder no longer! This fits the bill exactly. We had to drive through a pretty arch within the wall – there is really a wall – to reach the old town and once we got in, it was quite charming!
Jaipur Old City Area (The Pinkish City)
Jaipur is called “The Pink City” but if it is because of the color of the walls here, I might have gone with The Orangish Adobe Rust City or The Burnt Umber City. I would have liked to spend more time wandering around in this area, up and down the streets, checking out the markets and enjoying the atmosphere. However, I settled for the view from our air conditioned vehicle.
Take a drive through Jaipur’s old city
Our vehicle and patient driver made his way right smack in the middle of all the pink to the place you see if you do a Google Image search for Jaipur. It is called the Hawa Mahal. And that famous beehive view of the front… was covered in scaffolding. Of course. Luckily, the inside was open. And awesome.
The facade and beyond at the Hawa Mahal
We found the entrance leading through an alley with gift shops to a road in the rear, following hand-written signs to a little ticket booth and door in the back. There may have been an easier way, one with less gift shops, but it was not immediately obvious.
Hawa Mahal is the kind of temple I like. Lots of nooks and crannies, multiple curvy paths and stairs to explore any way you like, overlooks of the city and stained glass windows, and just general prettiness. It was a lot of fun, even in the increasingly warm temperatures.
Sights from various floors of the Hawa Mahal
There were some other tourists around, but it was not packed by any means. It was fun going up and down the floors and looking out the windows of the facade which were originally built for royal ladies to look upon the town’s activities without being seen.
This group of ladies was having a grand time exploring the place, then taking photos of me with them. They also posed for a photo from my camera.
Yes, the above is what many Indian ladies normally wear while out doing touristy things; at least that was my observation. Unlike Westerners, who don much more casual T-shirts and sunglasses, capris and sandals, aiming for ultimate comfort, Indian ladies always seem to wear only slightly simpler versions of the graceful and beautiful clothing worn for weddings and formal celebrations.
Our next stop was lunch! An expensive meal at a place our driver took us to called Niros. (We thought he was saying New Rose. And I wondered, like I always do, if the driver managed to get himself some lunch at some point…) Two western women walked in. Chris pronounced, “The food is excellent here!” The girls said, “Really? You’ve been here before?” and Peter said, “Actually, no we haven’t.” The girls perused a menu but walked out shortly later. “It’s too expensive. We’re students,” they explained. But it was only really expensive by Indian standards… seven or eight bucks a meal. Our meal was unusually meaty. No curries, just pieces of lamb and chicken on a plate in Rajasthan style. It was indeed excellent, though. Our next destination was back in the Old City practically next door to the Hawa Mahal: The City Palace.
(The Indian accent has the unfortunate tendency to pronounce “C” as closer to “Shi” making it seem like this palace we were going to see… was not so great, if you know what I mean.)
The City Palace Guards Sitting, Standing, Posing
The City Palace was large, pretty, and had some nifty mixed architecture and a cool display or two as well as a random puppet show, but in general, I was not overly impressed. Could have been the pounding heat, which, according to Google, crossed the 100-degree mark while we were there.
If you go through the below door, you’ll end up in the “Sabha Niwas” which is some kind of throne room or royal receiving hall. Also, as one of our party found out the hard way, they take the “No Photography” rule very seriously. All photos had to be deleted and they attempted to charge a 500 rupee fine, though did not seem able to enforce it. All this does not explain why you can see photos of Sabha Niwas online. (Aside: In general, I like to know the reason behind photography restrictions and wish they would post it. In this case, it seemed arbitrary. Nothing within seemed like it would be particularly sensitive to light.)
The “Don’t Even Think About Taking a Photo In Here” Room
Other stuff in City Palace:
Mubarak Mahal: Cool Rivendell-like architecture. Mediocre garment museum inside. Sneaky second story with no public access.
On our way out (just as we realized that the last place listed on the ticket with the word “Baggi” actually meant “Buggy” where sure enough, there was an unexpected row of presumably horse-drawn buggies in a line) we saw these guys performing.
Puppets!
The puppet show seemed less of a cultural part of the palace and more two guys making a buck doing some semi-traditional activities. After we arrived, the puppeteer (and his drumming companion) made the girl puppet do some overtly sexual dance moves. (Luckily, the kids who were watching had left by then.) I tipped him, but he still wanted to sell us some of his handmade dolls afterward. So did half of Jaipur. Men with dolls. That appears to be a Jaipur Thing.
We walked back to where the driver was parked. Peter bought a baseball cap for a few bucks that had, no joke, the shape of a running puma above the word “Lego”. Mixed branding at its best. The driver told us that the Jantar Mantar (aka Cool Sundial Place) was just up the street in walking distance, so up we walked. This, and almost everything else we visited during our trip, was included in our 350 rupee ($6) Composite Ticket. There is also a famous Jantar Mantar in Delhi. More than sundials, they both have lots of sculpture-building-instruments that measure astronomical things like the azimuths and angle of the planets and other scientific space stuff. (And have been settings in a few movies.)
Jantar Mantar
Jantar Mantar was very neat, but one thing (besides the heat) significantly detracted from my enjoyment of it. One thing I heard is not the case in Delhi’s version.
Climb me!
This place was built to climb on, no question. Stairs and climbable everything, clearly designed to ascend. But, guess what? It wasn’t allowed! Though I have to say one good thing about the place. I looked Jantar Mantar’s Wiki entry up just now… and wow, this place must have had a facelift! It is pristine now compared to the state of it in the photos. Maybe that is why climbing isn’t allowed?
Some Jantar Mantar gardeners and the view back to Hawa Mahal
The Obligatory Monkey Photo
Despite that the sun still had plenty of room to go, the time was 5:00pm so they started kicking us out. They even hurried my purchase (hard to believe they would want to hurry any transfer of my money) of mango juice at the exit. I’ve been generally buying a beverage at every site, mostly not water just in case the bottle is somehow not as sealed as it looks.
Our driver then took us north of the city to the Lake Palace. Apparently, you are not allowed to actually go inside the palace, so most people view it from this viewing spot along the side of the road, complete with all sorts of people selling things and the occasional cow.
Jal Mahal, or Lake Palace (one of many “Mahal”s in India)
There were a couple persistent salespeople here. I saw a tour bus arrive later with lots of white people on it, which explained all the retail activity. I liked the following sign in the area. (The message read in Hindi on the other side.)
The sign reads (all spelling mistakes, Britishisms, and spacing theirs) under the seal of the “Tourist Assistance Force”
Don’t avail services of unauthorised guide for sight seeing
avoid friendship and advice of the persons who approach to
provide their services at monuments, bus stand and railway
station for arrenging accomodation and sightseeing
don’t encourage beggars and hawkers at tourist sites
Time for a coconut.
STEP 1: Find a coconut stand
STEP 2: Pay them some money while they slice off the top
STEP 3: Drink through a straw
No worries about the quality of that water! Also replenishes electrolytes. Felt a little weird just tossing the coconut onto the pile when I drank all the coconut milk within, but I’m sure the rest of the coconut must be used somehow (fed to the cows or whatnot.) From what I’m told and have seen, nothing is wasted in Delhi.
We were pretty exhausted by this point. As it was sort of getting near dinner time, we decided to have our driver just take us to the restaurant that Buddy had recommended.
Chokhi Dhani
What can I say about Chokhi Dhani? It is one part carnival, one part hotel resort, and three parts Renaissance Festival.
We paid our 700 rupees ($10 for entry plus $4 for a Royal Rajasthani Dinner) and entered. There were traditional dancers and a storyteller. There was a ferris wheel. If you wandered over to the hotel side, you could get an adult beverage (which we did and saw a frog). If you walked through the grounds toward the rear you would find booths with classic games like the ring toss, basketball, shooting, and archery, but instead of oversized stuffed animals, you just win your money back if you are successful! Amusingly, once Chris made an elaborate point of making sure the booth guy actually did load the pellet in the rifle for each try, he made all his shots and won his money back. The palm reader told me that I could depend on having three kids.
It took quite a while to find the location of our dinner (and to explain to people asking what we were looking for.) but eventually someone led us to the building. A table was arranged in a giant square around the fancy room. There were only two other small groups of diners there (another building seemed more popular for dinner, but we didn’t know the difference as we only saw this offering). They sat us along the table and proceeded to serve us a bottomless array of various levels of yum. I loved the paneer and aloo (potatoes) of course. The lassi was the salty kind and liquidy, so I didn’t end up drinking much of it. The best part was that they kept refilling your bowls if you wanted. That and the multiple rounds of dessert, but the ice cream was cardamom flavored. To be honest, I’m sort of sick of that particular spice, but it is in a lot of things, especially desserts.
We returned after our long, long day crashing into our beds, AC running, not planning to get up the next day until after 9am.
Always bring your phone charger, no matter how short a trip it is. Even if your phone has always lasted this long on battery before. Just bring it.
Don’t judge bad text message grammar or assume it is the phone’s fault. It doesn’t mean the important part is wrong. Even if it really looks wrong.
Breakfast at the hotel had a nice selection of Western and Indian options, including freshly-made omelettes, which I enjoyed one of. I saw a woman touching a parantha (fried flatbread, sort of like naan, but usually with onions and peppers cooked in) with her fingers before deciding on another one. I could go on rant after rant about PEOPLE TOUCHING MY FOOD. Even people in the food service industry. It has gotten to the point where if I see someone use tongs, gloves, etc, I think they are extra awesome and will patronize them again, even though that should be par for the course hygiene-wise. Oddly, my co-workers for example, were super careful not to touch the cake we got when we all celebrated Sachin Tendulkar’s birthday. (Yes, my co-worker bought a cake and we all wished India’s most famous cricket player a happy birthday after lunch.) So my co-workers get it. Why don’t people in the actual industry?
The front desk took about half an hour to arrange it, but eventually we got ourselves a driver for the day in a comfortable, air-conditioned vehicle. Then it was off to the Forts of Jaipur! Which would make a good name for a band.
If you come to Jaipur someday and can only see one fort, see Amber Fort. (Or Amer Fort depending on which guide book you are reading.)
View of Amber Fort (from the next fort up, but I’m cheating and putting this photo first)
Amber Fort is huge. Enormous. I mean, look at the place. Also, it has lots of great views of the little town below (which I’m not sure is part of Jaipur or not) and I’m a sucker for a view. Even cooler? You can see old fort walls on hilltops in the distance that look remarkably like the Great Wall.
View from Amber (…to the Great Wall of Jaipur?)
Now it is time for…Trapped in a Photo Shoot, Part 1
Photos of people who have photos of me
As it has happened to me in many tourist sites in India, I became part of the destination.
As soon as I was standing in one place being taken a photo of, it became the thing to do. I don’t mind at all when it is cute kids, but two of these four dudes thought it was totally fine to put their arm around me when they were posing. (It seems like a lot of guys must want a photo of a foreign girlfriend? Because it is rarely just a group photo of “Hey, look it’s us with a white person,” it always seems to be individual photos.) I guess part of me is flattered, but I’m mostly baffled. Lately, if I have an opportunity, I have been asking to take photos of the people who have just been photographing me (and as a courtesy I usually show them on my camera afterward, which I’ve noticed people tend to like.) Hence all my photos of random people.
More of the Pretty The Amber Fort Palace Museum
Trapped in a Photo Shoot, Part 2.
I took a picture of this group early on. But they got me back!
It was either a group of families or a big, extended family touring the fort together. They had me surrounded on a walk overlooking the garden and I found myself being posed with one woman, than someone’s daughter, then being introduced to a grandfather on the other side, then a picture shaking hands with the husband, then a group photo, then a photo with grandmother and youngest child. It was actually quite amusing and totally harmless, though I seriously had no way to escape gracefully, so I just waited it out. Probably a dozen or two people either wanting to be involved in the photo-taking or being in the photo itself were all around me. I was in so many photos.
(Ha, Pete is trapped in a photo shoot, too.)
The best part of Amber Fort was yet to come. The final area was not as pretty and decorated as the Palace part. And it did not have quite as many views. But it was fun.
Amber Fort: The place that wants you to get lost
You could wander for hours in here and have no idea where you are, I loved it! Corridors, stairwells, rooms that led to other rooms that led to balconies. No symmetry, no order, just lots of paths to try. I can’t believe we found each other at the end.
Amber Fort: The place that makes you ask, “How the heck did you get over there?”
Side note: the exploring has a limit, as one member of our party found out the hard way.
Climbing a bit higher to get a good photo, there was eye contact with a guard, who then appeared at the location very shortly later. Despite the lack of signage restricting anything, the guard took an elbow and wanted to take the “guilty” party to the “control room.” Luckily, the guard was not very aggressive and let me slip between him and the rogue photographer. I then took my time walking down the stairs and taking photos, leaving him stuck behind me for longer than he wanted to be. After that, getting lost in the maze was no problem.
The central courtyard (…where you can attempt to orient yourself when you come upon it, or just make yourself more confused.)
Time for another fort.
Take the road above Amber even higher into the mountains…
…up to the top.
Although Jaigarh Fort is a smaller fort with less interior space (more functional as a fort, less as a palace or living space) I found it to be photogenic. (And pink.) Someone must agree since they were setting up a wedding in one of the courtyards. It was much less crowded than Amber, though. It is mainly famous for having a large 1720s-era cannon on wheels.
There were two sections of the fort. In between the two were a place to buy soda and chips, dress up and get your photo taken, ride a camel, or check out some weapons.
Tourist Camel and a gorgeous green flyer amongst all the pigeons
(The sign I needed at Jaipur Railway Station)
And they are serious. But in the digital age, you just have to press the trash can icon.
It was right here I ran out of photos on my memory card. I had a few, but not many, older photos of my apartment and such, so I went on a delete frenzy and suddenly started being careful. After all, we had one more fort to go!
(Moral 3: bring all your memory cards, sheesh.)
At the tower on the end of the fort Me and a kid who wanted me to take his photo but without a photo in return!
Awesome view from Jaigarh Fort
The final fort of the day was Nahargarh Fort. This one had the best Jaipur views and, although small, had one cool building that was basically a house, but repeated a dozen times to the side and two deep so that walking through it was constant deja-vu. There’s the courtyard. And again. And again. But the stairwell to exit was not always there. Tricky. This was a later design and so actually had toilets built in (as in, two blocks to put your feet and a rectangular hole with some sort of drainage.)
View from Nahargarh Fort
View back down to Hawa Mahal and Jantar Mantar (sundial place) We’ve come full circle!
So now it was time to do what we came to do. Go to the birthday party.
The text message I got read exactly: Hotel jaipur haritej, Neer jln marg is the venue of todays party
I figured out “Jaipur Heritage” and found the address of the hotel online ahead of time, thinking I was all prepared. After a drink at the hotel bar, we found an amusing auto driver who implored us to help him expand his business by giving him high reviews on tripadvisor. He spoke great English and was overly friendly. (Had I been alone, I wouldn’t have appreciated his demeanor, but with the three of us, it was funny.) He even stopped at Jaipur’s most famous sweet shop for us and we were able to pick up some of Jaipur’s most famous cake thing (pictured, but I don’t recall the name.)
Jaipur LMB Sweet Shop
So we arrived at the hotel, not too late. But the two men at reception had no idea what we were talking about and spoke very little English. However, they imparted two vital pieces of information. One: that there was another Jaipur Heritage hotel and they knew the rough location and Two: that “jln marg” actually meant something. I get +1 for knowing that “marg” means “avenue” in Hindi but -1 for thinking “jln” must be a typo due to all the other typos in the text message and so ignored it. Grammarnazifail. (Later, my co-worker told me, “That’s why I said JLN marg, because I knew there were two.”)
Unfortunately, it seemed as if the hotel was a good 20km away so we were going to be quite late. We got on another auto that was the slowest auto we’d ever been on. I thought it might be about to break down and when the driver suddenly pulled into a gas station to fill up, I thought lack of fuel might have been the problem. No. We jokingly “raced” with an auto next to us at one point just to see if we could get the driver to speed up a bit. Turned out that we were in some kind of auto that did not go higher than a certain speed (or something.) It was excruciating, especially once we got on the high speed JLN Marg. However, I texted Buddy that we would be late and he responded, “No problem, we are in IST” which, as he explained to me the first week I was here means, “Indian Stretchable Time.”
And on the auto ride is where my phone displayed the message “Your battery level is critical, please turn off your phone to avoid losing data.” This was bad not only in trying to find this party, but also because the only receipt of our train tickets home the next day was a text message! I found out by desperate accident that I could forward a text message so I did that. Then I quickly texted Buddy to see if we could get an address or any more information about the hotel. No response. (Granted, he was likely very busy hosting a party at that point.)
So we got to the closest landmark the other hotel guys had told us about (without that information, we would have been totally lost.) But no sign of Jaipur Heritage. I risked a phone call to Buddy and handed the phone to the auto driver crossing my fingers that the phone lasted. It did, phew.
The auto driver pulled up next to what looked like a hopping party. We exited. My hotel key had fallen to the ground next to the auto, but luckily, Pete saw it and picked it up for me. Then we walked into the party.
Everyone looked at us as we strode in confidently. We looked for our co-worker, the only person we knew. Someone asked what we were doing there and we said we were looking for our co-worker for his daughter’s birthday party.
“This is a wedding,” he said.
D’oh. That was definitely how the night was going. We walked out; I was quite embarrassed. Normally, I would have responded to the fact that people were looking at us like we did not belong, except that people are always looking at us.
We walked until we saw a nearby sign with the word “Heritage” in it and eventually found the entrance. Two parties were happening within. We hesitantly walked into one. And there we were! We found it! (And after all that, we still were not late for dinner.)
I ordered a 5am wake-up call (because I had turned off my almost dead phone – which is also my alarm clock – by that point) and it cleverly rang all the way in the bathroom. Twice. Annoying, but it worked so I can’t complain.
The pre-dawn streets were quiet as we walked toward the train station. The block before we reached it, though, the streets turned into utter crowded chaos and I wondered where everyone had suddenly come from. Crossing traffic half-asleep was kind of nerve-wracking; autos, taxis, bikes, and people everywhere moved all around us. It was a little intimidating in fact, but we reached the train station without incident and found our platform no problem.
The Double Decker to Delhi
Well, no problem until we realized two stops down that we incorrectly read our text-messaged train ticket (that I had forwarded to Chris). It read “C10U 96 C10U 97, C10U 98”. What it meant was Carriage 10, upper level, seats 96, 97, and 98. We were in Carraige 1, though, as the 0 in the tiny SMS was ambiguous. (When we eventually walked back nine cars to Carriage 10 – and asked the couple guys who had sat there to move – we recognized a couple other passengers who had made the same mistake.) The seats were nice, but tight. And we had to pay for breakfast this time.
But for the most part, the ride back (which ended at a different station than we started, weirdly) went smoothly.
So, Jaipur thoughts…
I loved Jaipur, especially the city center. It looked pleasant and wanderable. I saw plenty of sidewalks (a lack of sidewalks is one of my biggest complaints about walking around Indian cities), the streets were in a consistent grid full of the Pink, and it is just cute. The unique forts in the hills outside the city were a bonus. As Pete was saying, “It’s like everywhere that’s not Noida is pretty.” I would definitely like to go back and revisit.
I am surprised the population is more than the Denver metro area; it feels like a much smaller city. Notably, the movie Most Exotic Marigold Hotel was set and filmed here, though I was not particularly reminded of it as we criss-crossed the city. I was nervous before I came that the beggars and touts would be plentiful and aggressive because this is a very popular tourist destination. However, there were not many beggars compared to Delhi, I thought. The number of people who desperately wanted to be our guide was somewhat astonishing, but they were super friendly of course, even though they tried to convince us that there was stuff we could not see without one, which did not seem to be the case. We declined their services, mostly because we didn’t want to go to a tourist shop afterward.
Something funny I noticed is the new sales tactic at intersections. Up until now, I’ve seen people selling towels, flowers, cleaning windshields, and straight-up begging, hoping to make a rupee at the red light. But now, when the cars are stopped, they *hold a shade up to the car window* to relieve you from the heat of the sun and then ask for money. So clever! They are probably doing the same thing in Delhi, but as our taxi route has no red lights (busy 4-way intersections, yes, red lights, no) I haven’t witnessed intersection commerce in a while.
Animal Roundup
We saw so many different kinds of animals here, I started keeping a list.
Cows and calves (naturally)
Horses
Goats (especially at the forts; above photo was on our way down from Nahargarh)
Pigs (we spotted groups of them just a couple times from the car)
Elephants (we saw more than one Tourist Elephant, all painted and decorated, walking up the streets of the Old City.)
Lizard (a cousin of Guido was hanging at Jaigarh Fort)
Frog (at the Chokhi Dhani outdoor restaurant)
When we were planning this trip, we had a thought to try to see Ranthambore National Park where, if you are lucky, you may catch a glimpse of a tiger. But the smaller vehicles were already booked for the weekend and getting out there – another few hours from Jaipur – would have been hectic. I’m ambivalent about animal safaris. It’s cool to see the big predators out in their natural habitat, but not so cool I want to go really out of my way to see them. I was game for it (pun intended) mostly because I like doing different things occasionally, when I’m not feeling lazy.
Doors
Without intending to (at first anyway) I started taking pictures of various doors I saw in Jaipur. Not sure why I kept up with the theme, probably unconsciously using an idea from a magazine or art show I saw once, but I figured I’d post them anyway.
Break on through to the other side…
And with that, two points of the Golden Triangle are down. Probably saving the third (Agra where the Taj Mahal is) until I have visitors.
I looked out the window to my balcony the other day and there was a lizard scurrying across it. A lizard that looked just like Guido! He followed me all the way here!
I was not in time to grab my camera, but it seriously looked blond-colored just like him!
Princess Bed! (Only made possible by a lucky nail I found, a magic place to put the nail in the concrete wall, and an extremely convenient loop net configuation.
So I decided to get the mosquito net (that I bought from McGuckins back home) out. I actually don’t have many mosquitoes up here on the 12th floor, but it is worth it to not have any buzzing in my ear at night. It’s also kind of cool to sleep under.
There are more mosquitoes now that the temp is regularly hitting 100 during the day and not getting much below 80 at night, but not tons. It is still quite dry and hasn’t rained in quite a while. Notably, even though the temperature outside the other day has overtaken the absolute record high in Boulder, I feel like I haven’t really *felt* it. I think that is because the office is freezing. Freezing. My fingers are so ice cold that walking out into the heat feels great!
Team Lunch
So we had a team lunch at a restaurant in the corner of the Sector called Binge to welcome our newest team members. I liked it – it was one of the better buffets I’ve had. One of the choices was, I’m not making this up, called “Cheese Steak – Tomato Sauce.” In this country of Nearly No Beef, I knew they did not mean a cheese steak like I thought of it. So what did they mean? Grilled paneer! Cheese cooked like steak. In tomato sauce. It was delicious, but anything with paneer is. I haven’t had cheddar cheese since I’ve come, but with paneer, which I’ll describe as a soft cheese with the consistency of tofu but a taste more like mild mozzarella maybe, I haven’t missed it as much as I thought I might. (In the Trivia That No One But Me Cares About: Binge is the name of an establishment in my science fiction novel. So I thought it was cool to eat there. Even though I’d never eat at the one in my story.)
Still learning culture every day. I noticed one day at lunch that there did not seem to be sufficient ringage for the number of married men – i.e. just about all of them are wed but only a couple had wedding rings, so I asked. Turns out men in India wear wedding rings on their right hand while women wear it on their left hand. Sure enough, almost all of them had a right-handed ring that I overlooked. I guess it makes for easier wedding photos!
(Looks over shoulder in office) Oh, that’s where I am.
I had to inform the foreign registration office of my address change. You’d think that would be done with a phone call or over mail. No. I paid ANOTHER $150 (!) for the company that does the paperwork to meet me at the FRRO office again. I had to provide a copy of my lease, but honestly the paperwork this time seemed very minimal, so the price seemed ridiculously high. I think my money went toward this man’s taxi from Gurgaon (on the full other side of Delhi) and the whopping fifteen minutes spent with me. My office this time did not bother to tell the taxi driver the address. So, for once, I was glad of my smartphone. I was able to open my e-mail, look it up, and write it on a sheet of paper for the driver as we headed in the general Ghaziabad direction.
The FRRO was, again, empty (which I think would make any Delhi ex-pats green with envy as I’ve heard nothing but DMV-style horror stories from Delhi’s version). The sum total of what the FRRO officer did was: take my file out, scribble out the old address and write the new address, sign the change. Then scribble out the address on my official form, write in the new one and sign it. Woo.
Chocolate: I’ve stopped giving it out because it is too hot now. It just melts. Even bringing a Cadbury bar home from the supermarket caused it to melt (though I think it had a head start with the power outages in the supermarket.) Speaking of chocolate, I confirmed that in India, like in Great Britain, a “chocolate shake” just means “chocolate milk.”
As much as my mood depends on the color of the little light it is pretty amazing that I’m connected to the world through it
My “data card”, my 3G USB modem thing that connects me to the internet, is excruciatingly inconsistent. The light turns blue (3G) for awhile, but then’ll go suddenly back to green (2G) which is essentially like the internet stopping right when I’m doing something like Skypeing with my parents. The owner told me the 3G was very consistent in the bedrooms. So I moved my whole operation (i.e. my laptop, chair and table) in there. Made little difference to the 3G, but I’m enjoying A/C proximity. I’m seriously considering looking into broadband.
This having a maid business is odd. She comes in the mornings (so it is amazing how quickly I am up, dressed, and breakfasted) and cleans the floors and does the dishes. She speaks almost no English. And I speak almost no Hindi. Despite that, we sort of communicate. Though when it came to money, she had to call someone to explain to me in English what I wasn’t understanding. Turns out when the owner called me a week or two ago to “ask” if I could raise her monthly rate to 1500 ($28) if she did an occasional bathroom clean (to which I said no) that he wasn’t so much asking as telling. On one hand, I think she is overcharging me as he told me once that he paid 800 and that was with the dishes of four adults and a kid! On the other hand, it’s still only around $2/hour. She seems smart and on the ball which I like. Though I don’t think she does dishes as well as I do, which I try not to think too hard about.
We had a couple confusing conversations where I think she was telling me her 10-month old had a fever and needed shots. But I can’t figure out if she was telling me just to tell me, telling me because she needed to take the day off (which would be totally fine with me), or telling me because she wanted money. She said a sentence later where the only words I understood were “10 rupees” but it did not seem like she was expecting me to do something. Who knows. This, among other things, had started to make me more motivated to continue studying Hindi. I mean, I clearly hear the words I do know, so it is a good start. But I need to increase my vocab.
