Not A Word

Receptionist: Are you furlop?
Me: What?
Receptionist: Are you furlop or new patient?
Me: What is a furlop?
Receptionist: Furlop is returning patient to the doctor.
Me: Well, why not just say that since 'furlop' isn't a word.
Receptionist: We use furlop. So are you furlop?
Me: No, I'm a returning patient. 

Much to my mother's dismay, I have never been ladylike or dainty. Always a tomboy, into fast motorcycles, punk rock and skateboards, I've always been more comfortable talking politics and history over centerpieces and curtains.

But it only takes one rat to run under my chair at a coffee shop, and every ounce of an exaggerated, cartoon female escapes me!

(Yes, that's me in the corner, hands flailing over my head, feet tucked onto my seat, and squealing)

Mumbai Driving Tip: To see the missing manhole cover, look for upside down palm trees.

Why, yes, I love spending my morning commute going in circles and making U-turns arguing with the driver who tells me only, 'I know every route.' 

And apparently this morning, I'm going to see them all.

Today, my Scottish colleague said something to me and I didn't understand a word of it. He repeated it again, so I cocked my head and squinted my eyes trying to comprehend. Then he said it again and again and again...the whole sentence, then just the one word, then louder...you get the idea. Then I'm sure he swore at me as I fell into fits of uncontrollable laughter at the absurdity of the whole thing.

Stuck for over an hour in traffic with one mosquito in my car - I think I've lost a pint of blood.

These birds are dead meat!  ha ha ha

HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK!

Screech...swerve...slam on the brakes...I'm back!

At least ten minutes of today's rehearsal was spent determining which of my 14 middle school cast members, mostly non-native English speakers, could correctly pronounce the word 'bosom' without losing the rhythm of 'The Raven' ... or their composure.

Nothing like driving through dangling, fallen electrical lines on your way to work.

*eyes shut, pedal to the metal, zap! zap!*

Pav bhaji for breakfast at school. Definite perk of living in India.

Indian Observation: There is a notable difference in the general public's temperament between the month leading up to and the last month or so of monsoon. Everyone is so much more pleasant now.

The view from my desk at work right now. Plus loud banging.

At the salon in Mumbai, explaining what I want done, the stylist says, "Don't worry. I won't apply my brains. I'll just do as you like it."

Till June 2017

About to begin my 4th year in India…and I've signed a contract to stay for the next two years. 

Five years in India was the plan and I love it when plan comes together. 

Too much traffic on my normal route home, so the Uber driver takes a short cut, until we come to a three-way intersection and he pauses - long enough for me to finally ask, "Do you know which way? Should we ask someone?"

"No, no madam. I will come to know the way."

Guess who's still not home?

An unusually pleasant day today:

- Morning rickshaw driver missed didn't swear or stop suddenly.
- Efficient meetings squeezed between classes with lots of set up 'n strike went smoothly
- Car dealership returned my documents (but not the car, yet - oh, I have been SPOILED elsewhere!)
- Swam for over a glorious hour
- Courteous and kind Uber driver home (The middle aged, muslim men always are in India, in my experience) 
- The snack shack guy on the corner, whose English is perfect, gave me change for a large bill even though I only bought a dozen eggs. 
- And the temperature has cooled down to 88F (31C) at 9pm, so I'm not actually sweating standing still. 

I await for the sky to fall. 

The Philanthropic Society of the Orthodox Church In Kolkata

The summer before I moved to India, I bumped into Mrs. Kasamias at church in Ohio. She was very excited for my move and encouraged me to visit Calcutta and meet her friend, Nectaria, who ran a children's orphanage. They had been classmates in school in Greece, and Mrs. Kasamias couldn't say enough good things about her friend.  In adjusting to my new life and job in Mumbai, traveling to Calcutta to meet a friend of a friend gradually fell down on my list of things to do…but it was always there, in the back of my mind, the willingness to bring greetings from one friend to another.  This year I finally made it to Calcutta..and what a lovely city it is. (see previous post) Although no one at the fancy hotel where I stayed knew of the Greek Orthodox Church in their city, the taxi drivers did, and were able to help me find it. They were only open for vespers when I arrived, but aside from having the doors open, nothing much was happening.  I decided to come back the next day for liturgy assuming my chances of meeting Nectaria would be better.  

Signage is prominent and accurate throughout Kolkata.

There were only a handful of people in attendance on Sunday, even though I arrived late, but there were three young ladies singing the familiar hymns of the cantor - in Greek, English, and Bengali. I spoke with them afterwards and they unfortunately informed me that Sister Nectaria was back in Greece for the summer. (just my luck!) They invited me to tea, though, to meet the priest, Father Raphael, who was quite affable, spoke highly of Sister Nectaria, and coincidentally had also baptized the Indian husband of a Greek friend of mine. The girls who had sung in church were all from the orphanage, so the priest invited me to come visit and meet the other children. As I had no real plans that afternoon, I agreed. 

The quality of charities and NGO's in India varies greatly. Even those with the best of intentions, the best funding, and the highest qualified personnel, can often seem dismal by international standards, so as we drove out of the city and into the countryside, my expectations were not very high. But as we turned a corner and crossed through a field, the orphanage came into site and I was truly amazed. Officially called The Philanthropic Society of the Orthodox Church, they not only have the church in Calcutta, but a boys and girls orphanage outside the city, as well as offering medical services, feeding programs, and development projects. 

The 'orphanage' they spoke of is actually so much more. On a large, lush green compound, with at least 10 clean and modern buildings, sits not only housing for the 97 girls who live there, but also a co-ed K-12 school, a church, cafeteria, administrative offices, guest houses for visitors, a playground, and a garden. At least, that's all I saw from my young tour guides and it was beautiful. Not just beautiful for India, but truly, beautifully laid out and cared for. It reminded me very much of Camp Nazareth. 

Most of their funding has traditionally come from Greece, but since the economic crisis their funding has also diminished. A few years ago a group from the U.S. made a promotional video about the orphanage called, The Lucky Girls, to raise awareness and support. You can see their Facebook page here and a promo video below.

Father Raphael shared with me the different expenses the society faces and the strategies they're using to make ends meet. With the economic situation in Greece still struggling  they have started to reach out to the diaspora Greek communicates in the U.S., Australia, and the UK, with some favorable responses. He requested that I also share their story and encourage others who have the means to help support them and the work they do. 

The girls were thrilled to have a visitor and very proud of their school and home. They gave me the grand tour all over again, pointing out every building, every fruit tree, and every little area with meaning. They had varying levels of English, but could happily belt out a tune in English or Greek. They were eager for me to sing them a song, or tell them a story, or teach them a new game.  Father Raphael has bills to pay in order to fed, clothe, and educate the girls…but like all children, they also simply want someone's undivided attention, and I was happy to share mine while I could.

Every a person of my word, I encourage you make a donation, if you can, and to share their story in the hopes that others may do the same. 

Mumbai.
The only city I've ever lived where all my chats with friends start with, 'Are you in Mumbai?'
Half the time the answer is, 'No.'

Put Up Your Dukes!

One of my teaching colleagues is also a semi-professional MMA fighter. Upon arriving in Mumbai, he looked into all the gyms, but found himself unchallenged. So he's now opened his own fight club in the city with a few others at his same level, and is now training them to compete.

He and his wife are lovely people and always encouraging me to come take classes. He thinks I'd be great at it and she insists I'd be in the best shape of my life. But all I keep thinking is - 'I don't wanna get hit.'

So the other day, the conversation comes up again at the lunch table and some other colleagues start brainstorming different martial arts for me to consider as a beginner. I feign ignorance of all of them, knowing that at some point, someone has to hit you…which I'd like to avoid.

Finally, someone asks which martial art I think would be more my style. I respond, 'Tai Chi', which is followed by a contemplative silence at the table, until someone says, "Yeah, that's just like pantomime. Totally you."

And……cue jazz hands!

Botanical Garden of Kolkata

The official name is Acharya Jagadish Chandra Bose Indian Botanic Garden. Boasting the largest banyan tree canopy in the world, the entire garden is easily 10 degrees cooler than the rest of the city. 

It's more of a 'rustic' garden in that very little seems to be manicured. Everything seems to grow wild with birds, monkeys rodents and snakes roaming in a completely natural environment, even though quite of bit of maintenance was occurring when I visited.

Stunning...and everything I imagined India to be.

I don't know what kind of snake it is. I only know it stopped me in my tracks as it slithered barely a meter in front of me, and had to be almost two meters long, and there wasn't another soul in sight.

On the Road in Calcutta

A photo journal of things I found interesting on the road in Calcutta. 

The dashboard of the taxi driver, with no radio, who sang to himself the entire ride.

Inconsistent India

The official tourism board of India uses the catch phrase, 'Incredible India' in all its adverting. However, we who live here often refer to it simply as, 'Inconsistent India' because nothing is ever guaranteed here.

Today you find your favorite cereal in the market, tomorrow you don't. Today you need documents X, Y, Z to complete a transaction, tomorrow you also need A, B, & C. Today you can buy beef, tomorrow it's illegal in the entire state. The first answer to any query is always the reflexive, NO, but after some discussion and possibly a little bribe, you can get what you want if you give up your patience and time.

Knowing this and having a flight to catch this morning, I checked in online, booked an Uber taxi well in advance, and got to the domestic airport two and a half hours early for my flight. And then this happened:

• The Uber arrived within 3 minutes
• With no traffic on the street, I arrived at the airport within 10 minutes
• Went through entry security quickly with only two people in line in front of me
• No one in line at the boarding card kiosk or the baggage drop, and was done in 5 minutes

Fastest airport experience ever in India! So now I have two hours to kill before my flight…sitting having a coffee with actual, functioning, free wifi!

Not holding my breath for this to ever happen again, but enjoying it while it does. 

Inconsistent India, indeed!

What's In A Name...

Apartment hunting today. One building was called, 'AASHIT' - and that about sums up all the apartments I saw.

Same, Same…Not At All

Came home to find this hanging on my living room wall.

Apparently the landlady came by to ask my housekeeper to pick neem leaves out my window, then leaned on the wall and broke the ceramic tile replica I had of the dancing swallows fresco in Santorini.

She left a note to apologize, and this to replace it.

*sigh* the love birds are gone - she even took the broken tile with her.

Doing It Different

Today I saw a man 'herding' his cows down the road. He was on a scooter whacking them repeatedly with a stick. 

On my farm growing up, you just had to clap your hands and the animals would move. We would also walk with them. 

Indian Compliment

And then he said, "Anyone would want to pull your cheeks."

Party Pooper

Yesterday I started my annual detox, which I usually do in January, but have been so busy this year that I haven't had three straight weeks without some 'event' to do it without it being sabotaged.  So, I do my detox now. 

'Why?' you may ask do I do this every year. Mostly, to stay healthy and avoid getting sick since I developed allergies to pain killers and antihistamines - which means getting sick is just that extra miserable. 

But also because after living overseas for so long, I know I'm not living alone. I have little freeloaders up to no good in my belly. Amoebas, parasites, worms - whatever - I've had them all. I can even tell you which ones I currently have depending on the burp or belly ache. I've taken the purging pills, too. They work just fine. But they're strong, and don't always get all the little guys. 

The 21 day detox, though…that's another story. They kick and scream and gurgle and rumble when I'm not feeding them sugar and dairy and wheat. It's like playing a lousy song at the end of the night in a club…if it's bad enough, everyone leaves. 

Well, party's over and they're getting 86-ed.

You know you live in India when after hearing a loud bang against your window - which is protected with security bars and has a ledge only big enough for a small plant - you comfort yourself by repeating, 'It's a cat, not rat. It's a cat, not a rat. It's a cat, not a rat.' before hesitantly pulling the curtain aside to see what it is. 

And you still jump when you see the cat. 

Indian Alarm Clock - Mosquito Bite to the Face

It's Not Even Spring Time Here

As I was parking my car this evening, I saw a young couple walking down the street holding hands. Her head was covered, but both were in western dress. Then suddenly, he twirled her, spun her away from her with outstretched arms, and then rolled her into a hug. Nothing something you see every day in India.
It was lovely. 

Breakfast Confusion

I wanted two eggs over easy. I asked for two eggs over easy. He looked at me. I looked at him. Nothing happened.

I asked again, but this time motioned with my hand flipping the eggs…over easy. He made the same motion and said, 'upside down?'

I nodded. Yes, I would like two eggs upside down. Same same. Perfect. 

I used to struggle with who I am and who I want to be as opposed to who I have become by living in India. But I'm certain now I am still becoming. The metamorphosis is not yet complete.

For now…read this

I've got a lot of posts half written that I haven't gotten around to fine tuning as I've been working on some other projects, so for now, read this. Then explore the rest of the site. Hands down it's the best sites I've found in India, by Indians, about India. 

"Let us for once not try to blame any entity – man or woman – but instead take an objective look at our shortcomings as a society. The constant opposition offered by certain elements of our society to evolve by absorbing the various ideas of other cultures has been our biggest failure in delivering an equal society. No culture is perfect, but each culture can strive to be a sponge of ideologues which accepts the best of both worlds. The apathy and rigidity of Indian society, not to mention its resistance to evolution and critical thinking, has been the biggest roadblock for us in attaining social progress."

HOMEGROWN.IN

No Shame

Aside from the occasional hooker turning tricks in the alley next to my building, some idiot in the neighborhood also seems to find it entertaining to sneak up in the middle of the night and wake the guards in the building next to mine by banging on the gate and screaming like a savage. His lunacy has woken me up several nights thinking some woman was having the life beat out of her - because, yes, that's how he sounds. 

Between yelling out the window, throwing water, and lately trying to snap a picture, tonight I totally lost it. His wailing outside my window put me over the edge, and as I screamed for him to go away, I saw him run home, in uniform, to the building around the corner where he is someone's driver.

Every ounce of crazy rose up in me (full moon tonight) and I stormed out of the house, straight to that building, and right into their garage, and started snapping photos while screaming strings of maniacal obscenities. 

My downstairs neighbor and the guards were waiting for me at the end of the drive when I came back. So was another neighbor. They'd all heard him…and then me…and came to see if I was alright. 

Oh, yes, I'm fine. I am the crazy white lady. 

Roadworks India

Came home from work to this today. That's my house where the guard is standing. Guess there's no street parking for the next few weeks.