I shall consider myself told.
Each night we are made dinner unless we decide to go out to eat. Each night that Gaury brings us food, she leaves to go home. When dinner’s finished a pile of dishes are left in the sink.
For the past couple of weeks I’ve been shaking the jet lag — after dinner I usually get sleepy and fight sleep until about 10pm. Anyway, a couple of nights ago I felt well enough to do the dishes because as most of you know, I hate going to bed knowing there are dirty dishes in the sink…most of all, you know I hate waking up to a sink full of dishes. It’s a reminder that I should’ve done the dishes before retiring for the night.
In short, I did the dishes…and the next morning when Gaury arrived to make breakfast, she was horrified.
Gaury: "Ma’am, I do dishes," she said, pointing to herself furiously. "You do not."
Me: "But…"
Gaury: "Ma’am no."
Me: "But, but…"
Gaury: "Ma’am no."
Colin watched with amusement…and as we sat down for breakfast said, "Consider yourself told off."
Who would’ve ever thought I’d be scolded for doing housework?
-Carinae-
Ok, crudeness aside, who knew the rumblings of the gas crisis in India that started a couple of days ago would actually come to fruition?
I know I sure as heck didn’t anticipate it. Talks have stalled and now most the cities throughout India are 80-100% completely out of gas – even restaurants who have gas piped directly to them are effected…so the crowd that loves to go out on weekends to eat can’t – they can’t drive to their destination and they certainly won’t have food when they get there. Our driver warned us of the gas crisis a couple of days ago and we filled up the tank on the car…but last night was absolute mayhem for Colin in trying to get home. A fifteen minute drive became 2 hours because it seems the police/traffic wardens were on strike, so it was absolute chaos. Traffic was gridlocked and oh, Colin saw an elephant standing next to the car while waiting in traffic. No picture was taken, though…but he texted me, all excited and happy about what he had seen.
Of course, I thought the gas crisis wouldn’t directly affect me – I’m here in the apartment, happy as a clam and completely warm. WRONG! It does hit me – directly. The power went out a couple of hours ago and usually about a minute to two the generator kicks in, ensuring me that I can get on about my day of watching TV and making sure my laptop stays charged. Heaven forbid I listen to my iPod through the earphones! I don’t turn on the main PC because the monitor is a massive drain on the UPS charger. So anyway, electricity goes out and I waited for the generator to kick on…and I waited…and waited. Ten minutes later, I realized, “Craptastic…the generators probably run on diesel fuel. Faaaaaaaaaaabulous.” Not. I was right, they do run on diesel fuel. Eventually the electricity came back on. I think they’re trying to conserve the gas on the generators. I’m fine with that.
But wow…I joked with my friends about ‘damn this third world connection’ phrase, but little does anyone know how close to the truth it is.
Quirks and oddities aside, I do like it here a lot.
-Carinae-
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It was inevitable that I would fall prey to Delhi poop – when? Who knows, but it happened a lot sooner than I expected, that’s for sure. Once in my entire life have I ever felt this shitty (no pun intended), this surpasses the times I’ve had bronchitis or strep. At least with those it was just coughing and chills. This is by far much, much worse. It’s hot cold sweats, stomach cramps and the fear that anything I consume will come shooting out of my ass as soon as it passes my lips. Not pretty. TMI? Meh. If you’ve ever had food poisoning before, you know that what I say isn’t too far off from the truth. 😀 Normally my stomach rarely gets upset at anything, but here…good lord.
Oh yea…I won’t be eating fruits here – it all tastes like dirt. Colin took me to a wonderful Chinese buffet for lunch and as a dessert I had some watermelon. I’m sure Karen will relate with me on this – when our old friend Dolly would eat fruits she’d sprinkle sugar on top of it. We would look at her and shake our heads, wondering what was wrong with her – the fruits were naturally sweet, why add sugar? Well, now I know. It’s to take that nasty ass taste of dirt/earth off. I almost just spit it out because that was just … I feel like I should’ve just gone out by the roadside and eaten some dirt, it was that awful.
I am unusually cranky and pissy this morning. I think it’s due to the dogs that bark non-stop at night. It’s not like it’s intermittent, it’s constant, like the air being hazy and smoke filled. I am venturing out on my own little by little each day, taking my time in getting accustomed to the whole way of life.
People can say whatever they want about women’s rights in America, but I really don’t want to hear any woman bitch until they come here. No man looks me directly in the eye and if they do I have to avert mine lest they think I’m hitting on them…a lovely thing that was told to me by a native here. If any of you had ever read or seen Jewel in the Crown, it was told then, but to think that decades later it still holds true? Absolutely insane. Colin has told me about a new programmer he’s hired – she is massively talented and can go far, but she’s newly married…and her in-laws as well as her husband want her home, being the dutiful wife…so he will probably lose a talented coder because of tradition. Really, women of Europe and America, seriously shut up till you’ve lived in another country where it’s a male dominated society.
Part of the reason I am hesitant and reluctant to step out on my own is the fact that I am an American woman who knows nothing of the language here. I’m curious and I want to see, don’t get me wrong. I want to experience it all, but I’m also cautious as well. I’m absolutely useless when they speak English to me – it is so heavily accented that I’m sure they think I’m the one who has problems understanding English. I know I’ll adapt, it’s all a matter of training my ear to the accent. A bit like Scotland…I’m so used to hearing a Scottish accent from living there and the fact Colin has that same accent. I’m worried that once I am attuned to the way English is spoken here, I’ll be going back home and still stare at my family like, “what the hell are you all saying?”
I think I’ve mostly kicked the jet lag. It also helps to get here super late at night like I did and sleep like it’s a normal schedule. I still do get tired at about 10pm/11pm as opposed to back in AZ where I’d be staying up until 5am. I’m up at 7 or 8 am here and I have breakfast with Colin before sending him off for work. Then I lock myself in the computer room in an effort to stay warm because it’s cold in the apartment…and from experience I’ve learned that the coldest rooms will inevitably be the warmest when the heat hits…so this apartment will be like an oven. Urgh. To keep warm, I am working on a blanket. What’s great about that is that while working on the blanket it sits across my lap, keeping me nice and toasty! 🙂
Oh, to stop the Delhi poops I have taken some of the travel meds I received – Ciproflaxacin (Cipro). It works wonders – I think I’m doing all right now. I am not too sure where I got the loosie pewps from, though. I’m in a fairly controlled environment, but I think I got it from some water that wasn’t as “pure” as it claimed to be.
Lucky me…haha.
-Carinae-
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Wait, that’s not how the song goes! It’s purple rain, purple rain…but here in India, it certainly feels like a purple haze.
I know the sky is blue, but I’ve yet to really see it. I miss blue skies, not grey smog.
Air quality is massively shitty. I have zero desire to pick up a cigarette thanks to trash burning and the construction dust – there enough pollution in my lungs without adding that. It’s even a bit hazy in the apartment, but it’s nothing like outdoors. I hate the black boogers that come out of my nose…TMI? Well, like that’s ever stopped me before! I actually have coughing fits that won’t stop until an hour or two later. It certainly makes my walks around the apartment building a bit hard. I hate coughing…so I sometimes stay indoors and forego the walks, but I love seeing the little stray dogs.
There is one stray dog whose picture I try to take but he somehow eludes me each time…He/she is probably about 4-5 months old and is so damn adorable. The dog loves people and is such a clown by nature – right down to it just walking or running. I can’t describe it, but saying the dog has clown antics is not too far off from the truth. I swear, that dog is just so uncoordinated when it walks and runs it cracks me up. It’s also the puppy/dog that has the little Hindu marking between his eyes, on his forehead. I wonder what deity he worships? Haha. The dog is so friendly, it comes running and is truly a sight to behold, legs flying in all directions complete with head flopping about and tongue hanging out. I swear, that dog smiles. Sadly it’s a stray and I’ve already been told by the guards to not play or pet the dogs.
The puppy’s mother likes to sleep on the mat outside of our apartment door. I suspect it’s slightly warm and she loves the garbage we leave outside for the men to pick up every morning. The men don’t get here on time and the dog usually tears through the food that we throw out…I hate how food is disrespected here, I guess. So there is a huge mess outside the door and I freak out, thinking of roaches and ants. I just hate that there is no trash place for me to dump things. I suspect that the men who take the trash away just toss it out onto the lot behind the houses here…and that is the shanty town. I am fairly sure that once that happens, the people of that town grab the bags and look for food…after that, it’s everything that can be burned.
As I said earlier, I have issues with how food is treated here. I guess I am more like my mother than I really wanted to ever be. I’ve accepted I am like her in some ways, but I can’t believe I’m like this when it comes to food now. For breakfast and dinner we’re given a lot of food…I mean enough to feed 4 people, not 2. Dinner has proven to be the most difficult because Gaury, the cook, loves to give us so much that Colin and I eat as much as we can…I desperately try to save the leftovers, thinking I’ll eat it for lunch, but it’s not the case. I’m usually so full from breakfast that I don’t get hungry until dinnertime, which is about 8 hours later. We have had leftovers I’ve been trying to tackle for the past week and Gaury noticed, telling me that she’s going to throw it away. Of course, my mom screaming, “Don’t throw food away – that is grace!” always goes running through my mind. Gaury’s completely right in throwing it away – it is going to spoil. What’s the point in hanging on to that?
I want to take what is left over and give it to the people in the shanty town, but I’m often told to not do that…because they will show up on my doorstep, wanting more. Simple acts of kindness are rarely done here. One day while getting gas for the car, Colin stepped out and got himself and the driver a Diet Pepsi and a samosa. The driver was surprised – things like that aren’t done here. That said, I’m truly surprised at how kind the people have been to myself and Colin. Is it a double standard? Be nice to the guests/tourists but not the natives? I am just amazed at how well Colin and I are treated, but to see regular everyday people get treated like dirt pains me. I know I’m no saint when it comes to being kind to others, but I do have some modicum of decency.
It’s strange, but I never thought I’d have to harden my heart in a strange land…
-Carinae-