So far, I’ve seen (and killed) one mosquito in my room per day I’ve been here. I have not been bitten that I can tell and they have been easy to kill. I asked my co-worker when mosquito season is in Delhi and he said that usually, it is in summer, but that “in this neighborhood, it’s anytime.” Hmmm. Hopefully, the plug-in repellant will do the job for now. I brought a whole mosquito net if needed, though I’d have to figure out how to mount it without upsetting the hotel staff.
Co-worker discovered I did not have my gas hooked up and that I needed to have my company ask. Within about ten minutes of me emailing work (on a weekend no less), someone came to the door with a gas canister and hooked it up. Then, a couple hours later, another dude showed up with complimentary pots and pans! D’oh. Now I have quite the collection.
I had my usual free breakfast, even daring some cut-up melon in my porridge (I’ve been scared of fresh fruit and veggies because I don’t know the quality of the water they’ve been washed in, but in this case, it has been theoretically peeled and chopped.) One of the many workers in the dining area asked me what country I was from. When I told him, he proceeded to inform me that the president there is Barack Obama. I realized I don’t know who the Indian Prime Minister is, forehead slap, then again Obama has a photo on the front page of today’s paper (the Hindustan Times), which I got at my door this morning.
I spent the day finally unpacking all my clothes and toiletries (wow, I brought a lot of toiletries) and moving in.
In the afternoon, I wandered outside the gates in the direction of the supermarket that Co-worker took me to yesterday. There was sort-of-a-sidewalk-sometimes off to the side, but more often it was broken up or separated by dirt and garbage (and the occasional tree) so it was easier to just walk on the side of the street like other pedestrians were doing, listening for honks. It was amazing, though, how much my level of comfort increased as soon as I came upon a sidewalk! A real, large sidewalk, next to a suddenly fancy shopping center (the complete opposite of the hole-in-the-wall shops across the street) with the supermarket within. Lots of people were out relaxing and shopping this sunny, cool Sunday afternoon and it was quite pleasant.
I had some “Authentic South Indian” fast food for lunch. Like every other restaurant experience I’ve had so far, the menu is only in English, but the transactions are all in Hindi. Except for me. When there is English spoken, our accents are almost mutually unintelligible to each other. The only thing I can understand are the pleasantries, which are nice, but are not necessarily helpful. I ordered the “Perfect Meal Combo” off the signboard. He asked me something. No idea what. He then confirmed that I ordered the “Royal Meal Combo.” I didn’t argue, I was hungry. A little while later, sitting at my table and reading about the Vaango experience on the placemat, I received a tray full of two small bowls with soup, a bowl of something potatoey, two tiny bowls with sauces, a chicken donut (?), and something that looked like a rolled-up tortilla the size of my forearm. There were some spoons at the table. I took a spoon but had absolutely no idea how to eat this food.
I hope the staff were more amused than disgusted as I attempted to eat this. At first I ripped off a bit of the tortilla thing and started to eat it like a burrito. That’s when a staff member suddenly appeared with a fork. Then I remembered two things: one, that a lot of Indian food is meant to be eaten with your fingers and two, only with your RIGHT hand, since the left is associated with bathroom duties. I immediately dropped my left hand to my lap and used an awkward rotating combination of fork, spoon, and tearing off chunks of tortilla (disclaimer: not a tortilla) with my right hand and got most of the food eventually in my stomach (only using my left hand when no one was looking, which was probably never as who isn’t looking at the dopey foreigner.) Even if I looked like an idiot eating it, it was rather tasty. Incidentally, here is some of what I read off the placemat:
“Every feature of Vaango is based on extensive consumer research, which holds that the new age consumer is particular about authentic taste, quality, hygiene, and convenience.”
You may be able to guess my favorite word there. Hygiene! Yay for new age consumers. They also mentioned the “soothing music” they played, which I had not even noticed until they mentioned it. (Then it was all I could hear.) Incidentally, I have yet to feel any stomach oddities during my almost three days here. Knock on some wood, there.