Election Day

The last day in India began at 6 am. I didn’t have to go to work because it is Election Day and offices are officially closed by order of the government. I decided I may as well get up and pack my things. I had planned to go to a temple with my coworker at 9am. Truthfully, I am “templed out” at this point and the thought of walking barefoot was downright torture, but it is his favorite Hindu God so I felt obligated. He came from Bangalore for two weeks just to work with me and although we work in the US together, having him in Pune was great relief. He has served as the interpreter, cultural advisor, and decision maker. Hearing him say “Let’s Go!” has been a comfort and he has been renamed “The Professor” during this trip because he is constantly teaching someone something whether it is about Siebel or Indian culture. “Soooo” as The Professor says I packed up and prepared to be out all day enjoying my last day in Pune. When we went to the temple The Professor made us go ahead of him so he could buy the things he would bring into the Temple without the vendors jacking up the prices. He even bought us some flowers to bring in as well. Once in the Temple we presented our gifts to the God and the Hindu Priest gave me some candy. The Professor and another coworker received coconuts. Both are signs of a blessing. I have been praying every day for the same thing for about two months now and I am patiently waiting for that blessing. We spent a lot of time at the Temple for The Professor’s sake and after the Temple, we went to the vegetable/fruit market. Ok, people don’t freak out, but yes we ate some of the fruit. We bought mangos and jackfruit. Pune is supposed to be famous for the mangos and I can honestly say I like them. I am not crazy about Mangos back home, too bad I can’t smuggle some back. Hmm..Then again, I am an experienced smuggler. We visited a couple of other places basically just sightseeing. We ate at a local Indian restaurant on you guessed it “MG Road.” Election Day in India is similar as America, polling places are usually schools and the lines vary by location. We did learn that they take a marker and draw a line on your finger to show that you voted. Throughout the day, I saw many people with lines on their fingers. We then went back to the hotel to freshen up because we made plans to visit my coworkers parent’s house and go for shopping and dinner. The plans change as they normally do and it was a good change. My coworker sent his car with his wife and the “Women” went shopping without the MEN. What a relief!! His wife said she hadn’t had a chance to shop since they got to India and she was ready to shop. We spent some time in two malls. My interest was costume jewelry. The costume jewelry here is not like in the US. It actually looks REAL. After shopping we met up with the men and drove to the middle of nowhere to this theme restaurant. I don’t know how ANYONE finds this place, but it is set up like a village in the state of Rajasthan. You buy tickets that can be used inside and they give you a dinner time. You then drink something that will make you hungry. It tasted like hot, salt water. Inside the village, there are different areas set up representing village life – singing, dancing, magicians, fortune tellers, massages, a person walking on a tightrope and a flame eater (India has no medical insurance-FYI). We hang out going at the various places. I had my fortune read. I won’t be sharing that information. It was good fortune. God is merciful! Dinner was set up family style, seated on the floor. For those that know, my right hip is not good for sitting “Indian style”, but I survived. After, The Professor and I took a camel ride. It was weird. The camel was very warm. My other coworkers had a hard time staying on the camel, but you know I got “woman” hips and legs so I didn’t understand what the trouble was. I was actually more afraid when I rode in the back of the donkey carriage with my coworker’s wife and son. I swear that donkey was blind, we almost hit a tree! I arrived back in my hotel room at midnight, enough time to shower and get some rest before getting up to catch a 5:30 am. Going to that village, was an appropriate ending to an unbelievable trip to the other side of the world.

When in Rome

The last three days have been business as usual in India. Remember, I am here to work!! The long hours I work in the US have funneled over to India. We are usually in the office for twelve hours a day. My time here is winding down and I am ready to return back to the States. Work has been frustrating and team morale was down yesterday. All it takes is a few challenging emails to put you in the dumps. By the end of the day we revived ourselves by listening to our theme song and made plans on how we will spend our last few days in India. Nicole and I have adjusted to life here. We even get snacks on our own. The people that work in the cafeteria find amusement when we arrive. We don’t know what we are ordering, but we find a way to communicate. They speak and understand English, but sometimes we cannot pronounce what we want to their standards. While we were sitting at the table today we were asked by a woman what country we are from. After Nicole answers, the woman said she was curious to know because we had different “physical features” than people in India. That gave us a good laugh. Nicole is an Asian woman of Chinese decent born in Canada, if anyone was wondering. The funny thing is there are a lot of Asian (Chinese/Korean) people living here, but they are considered Indian. I have been so exhausted that I fall asleep on the ride home from work. When I get back to the hotel I usually fall asleep within the half hour. I guess 12 hour days and touring 4 cities in 17 days is wearing me down. I do have enough energy to spend my last day, which happens to be Election Day, running through Pune for the last time. Keep reading the fun is NOT over yet!!!

Dusty Delhi

On a Sunday in New Delhi, we slept-in a little. The bottom of my feet are hurting! We begin our journey going to a famous temple "Akshardham". http://www.akshardham.com/. The security is super tight because this type of temple in another city was the target of terrorism. We were only allowed to bring in a small wallet and a water bottle. Before the temple, there is a huge courtyard the leads up to the temple dressed with grass, flowers, and fountains. The temple’s architect is amazingly detailed. Crowds of people that follow this particular sect of Hinduism- "Swaminarayans" have journeyed on that same day to visit the temple. We observe the ceremony that is performed and walk through the temple and visit each god that is represented in the temple. It was a very comforting experience. After we leave the temple we spend some time in the courtyard and get snacks/drink. This is where I experience another part of Indian life-food sharing. People reach into each others plates and drink from each other’s cups. One of my coworkers, who is a native Indian, takes my “pulpy orange” juice and drinks it. I was dayum thirsty, but you know me, I had a backup! We leave the temple and visit the Ghandi mausoleum and museum, do some shopping (browsing), go to the President’s House and India Gate which is very similar to The Mall in Washington, DC. While riding around, New Delhi, it is clear that this is one of the more advanced cities in India. It is also one of the hottest. The heat began to take a toll on us again (even my camera overheated) so we retreated back to the hotel to freshen up. During this time of the year the weather is changing (temperatures will reach 110 degrees) so New Delhi is dusty and windy. It was nice to shower and then relax in the club lounge with food until it was time to catch our flight back to Pune. At the airport while waiting on our delayed flight, I befriend two men. I happened to sit in between them and both ironically start talking to me. I guess men in North India like my style. One starts talking about the delayed flight. Then the other asks where I am from. We chat about the cities in India, flight delays, and what each one of us does for work. One is in IT and the other is a CPA for the Income Tax Department (it is income tax season here as well). The CPA says "may I ask your good name". We exchange names and then unfortunately..goodbyes.
Facts about North India:
1. Women will cover the head with their scarf out of respect for elders.
2. Men will bow their heads and point to an elders foot as a sign of respect.
3. Con Agra is a famous candy.
4. Children of a certain age, especially female children, are expected home before dark.
5. It is H-O-T.
6. 12 or more people fit in an auto-rickshaw.
7. The men love Charisse (LOL).

Feeling HOT in Agra

The next morning we catch a train from New Delhi to another city called Agra. I was told that the train was a "first class" train. I hate to see what the other class trains look like, but I was happy to have my own seat. I have seen trains ride by with people crowded in and standing (as normal). I listened to my favorite pop song which has now become the theme song for this trip and drift in and out of sleep. I gaze at the countryside and the slums of India. It is early in the morning so I witness the beginning of the day rituals. There is no electricity in these "homes" which are basically shacks made of tin or wood. People are outside half naked or naked (mostly kids) bathing from a pot of water; a teenager is brushing his teeth, a mother is combing her long black hair. Please don't ever take advantage of the fact that you have electricity and running water in your house. When I finally get into a good sleep we arrive in the city of Agra. The scene out on the train platform is a remnant of the NYC Port Authority. People are sleeping on the platform. Beggars are all over the place waiting for the "rich" to get off the train to give money or their bottle of water which they will drink and then sell the plastic. There are also people lined up to have a tourist pay them for a tour. This is a famous city; the Taj Mahal is here. Our native colleagues arranged a tour guide so we meet up with him and proceed to wait for the car. Little kids are following us out of the station begging "Madame, very hungry, please". A boy is holding his younger brother who is rail thin, maybe 6 months old with a worn t-shirt and no diaper/underwear. It is heart wrenching. But you cannot offer any money. It will just trigger a crowd of other beggars looking for the same. The little kid won't give up. Finally, one of the cabbies smacks him (yes, physically) and he moves to the next group of people. I purposely did not watch the movie "Slumdog Millionaire" because I didn't want my view skewed, but apparently this movie focuses on kids that are street beggars.
We finally get in a car to head to the Taj Mahal. Please don't let my first paragraph turn you away. When we arrive at the Taj we have to walk through a park, our tour guide tells us "please, don't answer any questions". This park is full of hagglers trying to sell you souvenirs and a "tour" of the Taj. Apparently, the entrance is free today, but that won't stop them from trying to "sell" you a ticket. We go through the usual security regime. Now we are tourists; the cameras come out of bags. The Taj Mahal is more amazing than you can imagine. We stroll up the large courtyard that is in front of it as our tour guide explains the history. Somewhere along the way, I realize I have admirers. I guess it would be appropriate; the Taj Mahal is a symbol of love. But Indian admirers? Is this for real? When we stop to take pictures, one of them comes over and asks can he take of picture of me- "Madame, very pretty, picture?" I am a little freaked out. No, I didn't pose for the picture. We spend some time roaming around this grand building admiring the architecture and detail. Our course we are barefoot to preserve the marble. Okay, okay. You are barefoot almost EVERYWHERE here. Somewhere along the way, I now realize my admirers have become stalkers. I guess I am "hot" to these Agra men. I was hot, the weather was hotter. By 11am my feet were burning-top and bottom. We left the Taj Mahal and at Agra Fort I met “Raj”. Another admirer, yet younger, trying to sell me snow globes with the Taj Mahal inside. He said “Madame-my name is Raj, you can look when you come out”. And sure enough he was waiting for me upon my exit. That young entrepreneur tried to sell me 10 snow globes for 100 rupees ($2). Now what would I do with 10 mini snowglobes? (I guess you will find out if you get that as a souvenir-lol). After lunch and some shopping we decide to leave by two drivers and not wait for the train. We were all hot, sweaty, and tired. This drive in the US would have been 2 hours, in India it took 6 hours. Car topics included: marriage, traditions, redlining on motorcycles, the job market, places we have visited and of course SLEEP. By the time we got back to New Delhi, we had time to eat dinner, drink wine, and drift to sleep. I think I dreamed that someone loved me enough to build me a Taj Mahal.

Airports

We spent the weekend in New Delhi/Agra. We left Friday evening. I will document the airport experience. You need a ticket to even GET IN the airport here. In the US we have the TSA, here a form of military runs airport security. They check your ticket and then you give your bag to the airline for a security check and they will lock the bag. You then get your boarding pass (there are no fancy quick check kiosks) and proceed through airport security. If you have a carry-on it must have a tag from the airline. Someone checks your ticket and then you put your carry-on through a scanner. The carry-on limit depends on who looks at you at the time. Maybe if they like you they will allow you three, maybe only one, it depends. Women and men go to separate lines. You are patted down and hand scanned even after you go through a metal detector, doesn’t matter if it did not go off. You don’t necessarily have to take your laptop out of your bag, again it depends on who you talk to. My only assumption is that most people here don’t carry laptops. Your carry-on bag tag is stamped as well as your ticket (twice on both sides). Then we sit in the chaos of the airport. Doesn’t really make sense to get on line when they call the flight, remember, there is NO line. You get in where you fit in. There is no fancy machine that connects the terminal to the aircraft, it is simply your feet; you walk to it. Before you exit the door for this walk, security checks for the stamps on your ticket and your carry-on. In both of my weekend trips I have flown Kingfisher Airlines which is like the 5 star airline here. They still serve meals. As a matter of fact, the flight attendant woke me up to give me my drink and my meal. We arrived in New Delhi around 9pm and met some other coworkers that flew in from Bangalore. In total there are seven of us on this field trip. Getting a cab was interesting, cabbies flock to you when you leave the airport soliciting you to ride. The Americans let the three native Indians do the negotiating. The cabs are old style English cars. The streets in New Delhi are completely different than in Pune and Bangalore. New Delhi is the capital city so the streets and highways look similar to home. I am instantly impressed. Traffic is still the same, although there is less ability to ride on the opposite side of the street when traffic is backed up because there are medians. LOL. The first night in Delhi we don’t do much but eat dinner and go to bed since we have a 6am train. We are at the Taj Palace. In every city I have stayed at a Taj Hotel. This one is the BEST. I can’t even believe my eyes. They hooked us up and put us on the Club floor so our accommodations include access to the lounge, fruit basket and wine, and breakfast. Life is good.

Survival of the Fittest

I haven’t found the time or the energy to blog in quite a few days so I will attempt to catch up. The rest of last week was a normal routine; breakfast, ride with a driver that does not obey traffic laws to work, stop for coffee (we finally found a coffee place that was half decent), sit in traffic to get to the office. The routine is now of Indian life. When we arrive at office we set up our desk area and check a few emails and then go down to the cafeteria to get a snack. I usually get a juice because it comes in a bottle and I can actually drink and enjoy it. My drink is “pulpy orange” by Minute Maid. We retreat to our desks and work until about 12:30-1pm. Then we go eat lunch in the infamous cafeteria. I heat up my Jenny Craig and bring it with me. I have discovered this yogurt drink which I sometimes include with my meal. I tried a few new food items that I can’t recall the name because they are too complicated, but nothing has really thrilled me-either too spicy or the texture was weird. I did try some spiced buttermilk, but it was a bit too creamy for my liking. They also eat a seed and sugar mix after lunch to ease digestion and smell good. I like the sugar crystals, the seed is OK, tastes like black licorice, but it is weird to have in your mouth. After lunch, occasionally I will walk up to the “tapori”-which is basically a stand on the side of the road to sit while my coworker smokes. It is good to get out in the sun since the office is usually very dark. The men that hang out in the tapori find it amusing that me and my other female coworker are there. I tried some betel nut with the attempt to stay awake the other day. It is basically some little pieces that you chew it your mouth. They tasted like rubber, made my lips numb, and the smell was so intense it did keep me awake. I googled betel nut when I got back to my desk and you may read for your knowledge: http://www.apollolife.com/healthy-living/Smoking,-Drinking-and-Substance-Addiction/featured-article/chewing-betel-nut. Then it is back to work until around 5pm. Since we have been staying in the office later each day, we usually go to eat again at this time. I usually get an omelet which is good because sometimes it is too late to eat dinner or I am unsuccessful at finding an enjoyable dinner. At home, I eat eggs once a week, here it has become the staple to my survival. I have other survival tactics: I do not wait in line anymore. With a population of over a billion, there is no concept of queues. I get my receipt for the food and I immediately jump in front of people. The first week I waited patiently only to realize that someone always cuts me, now I am the cutter. No one looks at you funny or says anything, it is a normal thing. This is how traffic is kept in the orderly chaos it is in and how this billion gets the things they want or need. When the elevator comes I jump right on and shove my way in. When the bus arrives at the airport I dive in between people and find my spot on the bus. I walk out in front of cars to get across the street. I even have a favorite pop song from a Bollywood movie -http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvW4HOKcnPs - "Kabhi Kabhi Aditi Zindagi" or "Sometimes in Life Aditi" Aditi being the girl that stars in the film.
My coworker who is Indian has noticed the change. He is proud that I have adjusted to life here. There is one adjustment I cannot make. Aside from the food, I would have to get a pedicure. Exposure to feet here is so prevalent I guess no one cares how their feet look. Most people wear sandals (even at construction sites) or they walk barefoot (yes, even in the office) so you can imagine the state of a person’s foot. I will not elaborate, but let me just say the “pedi egg” is not making any money in this country.

A Normal Routine

On my return to Pune, I was happy that a coworker had arrived that morning. I met up with her for dinner. The cab driver we had was clueless and I knew I was being driven to a life of selling the "goods" in a Brothel. We went for dinner at this place called the Stonewater Grill. Before leaving I asked the hotel concierge that recommended the place if we were dressed suitable to go. He said yes. I had on a tshirt. Upon our arrival, it was clear that this place was a nightclub and we were told "there were no tables". I have never been turned away at a club in the US and now I am feeling some type of way when it happens to me in India. We decide on another place and get eaten up by mosquitoes while trying to enjoy dinner. Honestly, the best regular food I have had here has been Pizza Hut. I guess the Indian food is good, but I cannot handle the spicy taste. I am a wimp.
After the weekend you would think that the bathroom at the office would smell OK, it actually smelled worse. I definitely did not miss that. I still don't understand how people hang out in there. The last two days have been normal days. I am actually not falling asleep at my desk and thankfully not up at 4am. I worked really late the last two nights catching up from being in a jet lag coma last week. I now have three coworkers here with me, two of them speak Hindi, one is actually staying at the same hotel. Things are looking up...