As I walk around, I realize that I stick out quite a bit. I have not run into another American since landing here. In fact, it is very rare to see anyone other than Indians - no Africans, Asians, or Europeans. While riding around in rickshaws, people stare at me and I smile. They smile back and do an “ok” type nod - where they rock their head back and forth and smile. That nod is fairly common here - unlike the American up and down “yes/ok” nod.
It might be 41 Celsius here, but nobody wears shorts. Men all wear working slacks (brown and blue are popular) and a long or short sleeve button down cotton shirt. Women almost always wear a very colorful sari - pink, yellow, and purple are popular colors. Men and women in malls wear western and European style clothing such as silk screen print t-shirts and ripped jeans.
My caretaker is adamant about me being the guest and he the servant. I tried to help him out by bringing my dinner plate back to him after eating and he refused. He also insists on eating in the kitchen while I eat at the table. If I near finishing a meal, he will bring out more food unless I tell him otherwise. He is very nice and is glad to have me here because he will improve his English. I love the fresh juice he keeps making me - mango, lime, orange… It’s really too much. We talk about America and life in India. Next week, he will move into the apartment and will live with us full time. He is married and has two children. I have not asked but I wonder when he gets to see them.
While riding in the rickshaws, it is not uncommon for young boys to come up with a begging bowl asking for change. Women with small babies will stop you on the street asking for rupees. In the central city, many homeless sleep on the street. Many of these people are disabled with lost or broken limbs and clear malnutrition. Life is not all bad. Most of the people that I have seen here are much happier and social with each other than Americans. The pace of life is mixed – the streets are so fast, but people on the sidewalks take their time to shop for food and other items. It is certainly different and good.
The smells here vary. In the morning, you smell the street vendors’ deep frying onion goods – it is an incredibly great smell. As the morning heats up you smell pollution - oil smoke from all the busses and rickshaws forms a bluish haze in some of the main roads. It is very dusty. Walking down my quiet street you smell the blooming large purple flowers on the bushes. There are a few small abandoned lots full of trash which smell of urine and rotting debris off of the main roads, but mostly, it isn’t bad.
The sounds around the road are invariably honking and two cycle rickshaw engines and motorcycles buzzing. At night you hear many crickets and the occasional dog barking.
Unlike most of the places I have been in America, kids are actually out playing in the parks. Some are playing cricket and others are watching. I read in a paper today that Starbucks plans on entering India sometime next year with a 100 stores. Sad? Kind of. It’s very nice to be in a place with no Starbucks. Pretty funny, actually.
There was a big blackout yesterday. We have a battery backup unit in the apartment, but the blackout lasted an hour or so. I decided to go without AC part way through the night just to see what it was like and I ended up liking it off as long as the fan is on. I’m going to go without AC for awhile.
We have a washing machine and there is a clothes line outside our window for drying.
One of my suitemates, Rakesh, showed up this morning. He will be working on a different Extreme Blue project with Lotus Notes and calendaring. We went into work today but both of us had problems with our paper work which they are sorting out. It was a bit of a hassle to us both, but we’re hanging in there. He won’t be able to start working until May 7th, but they said I should be ready tomorrow morning.
I have plenty more to say, but I need to get back home. Hopefully I will soon have internet in my apartment and I won’t have to keep doing this from a cyber café.