Miss Adventures

Why would anyone want to visit Goa, the ultimate beach destination in India, during the middle of the monsoons? I’m sure a lot of people will be asking that when I tell them that Anthony and I visited there last weekend, a good two to three weeks into the rainy season. But, around these parts, going to Goa at this time of year is one the best kept secrets. There are a number of air and hotel packages, the tourists are gone, and the rains revive the foliage to a lush green.
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As I’m sitting here at about 3:15 on Saturday afternoon, the skies are overcast, the peepul and palm trees are swaying, and the rain is taking a short coffee break before coming back to work.

The monsoons have arrived in Mumbai, and it has now rained every day since last Saturday, when the showers finally broke. There have been occasional breaks in the weather, and the sun, though masked behind some cloud-like milkiness, even came out for about half an hour yesterday. But, then, the rains will just start again, like someone turning on the faucet: heavy, windy, and capable of flooding highways and homes.
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Now that summer has ushered in the monsoon, there seems to be hardly any justification for India to use sun-baked haziness as a reason to be blinded by Sania Mirza’s incredible mediocrity.

Anytime that the young Indian tennis star plays, it’s a national obsession - at least as far as Indian newspaper editors are concerned. Stories about Sania help break up the monotony of articles on Sachin Tendulkar’s waning abilities and soccer game results that are more than a day old (thanks to the time difference at press time). So, of course, when the 18-year old phenom played at Wimbledon’s Centre Court yesterday, all eyes - and media outlets - were on her.
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Bombay is extremely lucky. The rains finally started here on Saturday, albeit late. These rains were to start on June 10, then June 14. Then, mid-morning Saturday, a little thunder rolled in. And with it, a brief respite from the blazing sun. Can you believe that there hasn’t been any measurable daytime rain in the city since November 2?

The monsoon weather pattern is certainly curious. Right now, we’re getting premonsoon showers. These are the types of gentle rains that keep you in bed late on a Sunday morning. I’m nervous for when the real monsoon arrives, when Mumbai streets turn to lakes and umbrellas are useless. I hear that’s what happens. Though, people, especially fellow expats who after years here are still squeamish about India, sometimes exaggerate.

For months, expats had been telling me about how horrible the weather in May would be. I had heard that it would be unbearably hot, so hot that my nostrils would burn to breathe in the afternoon air. It was pretty warm on some days, though no hotter than a July afternoon in downtown Washington, DC. In fact, I believe that it was hotter on the U.S. East Coast last week than it was here. Thank god for those Arabian Sea breezes.

Too bad the rest of this country isn’t as fortunate. Central and Western India has been experiencing a horrible heat wave. In fact, temperatures reached 51 (123.9) degrees yesterday! I hope the rest of India doesn’t have to wait too long for some heat relief.

Bombay can be extremely noisy, crowded, and inhospitable at times. But, at other times, you stumble across these tranquil little neighborhoods. One such place is Walkeshwar. Adjacent to glitzy high-rise apartments and old-money bungalows, Walkeshwar is a fisherman’s village on the top of tony Malabar Hill. There, the stone houses are incredibly modest, the alleys are shoulder-width, and the families are probably packed two to three to a home. But there’s also this serenity that, to me, evoked a bit of dead-end lanes in Venice during medieval days. There was a meditative stillness.

The central focus of Walkeshwar is Banganga Tank, a large pool that is said to have evolved when Ram, searching for water, shot an arrow into the earth. The resulting trickle created this “tank,” which is considered holy to Hindus. It is used for funereal rites and, during the sweltering Bombay days, also makes a great swimming hole for the locals.

I didn’t so much stumble upon Walkeshwar/Banganga as seek it out. Anthony had visited there some months before when I was down with jaundice. And, a few friends had also told me about it. As the monsoon was quickly approaching - and another out-of-towner was looking to do some sightseeing - we went there last Saturday.
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Looking online at the spring and summer offerings from the likes of The Gap, Banana Republic, Zara, H&M, etc., I’ve noticed that just about every store has something inspired by India. Embroidered or sequinned tops, cotton kurtas, long, full skirts, and paisley prints, appear to be - from this vantage point - all the rage in the U.S. and Europe, so much so that these designs have trickled down to the mass market. I don’t know if I like this, as this whole India fashion explosion was supposed to happen next year, when I return with an enviable stash of fashion forward Indo-garb. Okay, so I won’t be so special. But I will have a nice array of custom-designed, custom-fit clothing.

Over the past two weekends, I have discovered the extremely addictive world of fabric shopping in Mumbai’s Mangaldas Market. Walk past the chaos of placemat and plastic sellers opposite and slightly caddy-corner from Crawford Market and therein lies the covered bazaar where many Bombay tailors and designers buy their silks, chiffons, and printed cottons. This being India, the vendors are crammed side-by-side along bustling lanes - not aisles, because that connotes wide, empty paths - but numbered lanes, which are as narrow and congested as Churchgate rail cars at rush hour.

According to a recent issue of Wallpaper Magazine, John Galliano has been spotted in past years strolling through Mangaldas Market, snatching up bolts of fabric for his ready-to-wear collections. Keeping his motto of the month in mind, I decided it was time for me to jump into the designer game, if only for myself.
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All I have ever heard about the great Indian mango is true – it is the ripest, freshest, and one of the most enjoyable fruits ever. Forget the scrawny, stringy tasteless Mexican mangoes that we have to settle for in the U.S. Mangoes are the real deal here – and there’s more than one kind.

Eight long months we have been waiting for mango season. In the meantime, we have had plenty of fruits to make us happy: papaya, oranges, sweet limes, pineapple, grapes, watermelon, cantaloupe, tender coconut, and guava. I like papaya in doses (not dosas!), but it can go gelatinous fairly quickly if you cut it and put it in the fridge. Fresh pineapple has been a godsend, and I still try to have it every day if not every week. It was a joy to discover that watermelons were at their peak here in November and December; cantaloupes have also been quite good for some months now. Around Christmas, a Goan co-worker introduced me to Guava cheese, a traditional yuletide snack that’s basically just equal amounts of guava and sugar boiled and blended together, then hardened and shaped (sometimes into triangle wedges so as to attain a cheesy resemblance). And limes and sweet limes are around all the time for making fresh/sweet lime soda, a local specialty that’s so much more light and refreshing than a lassi.

Unless, of course, you’re talking about a mango lassi.
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A week or so before the April 15 tax-filing deadline, I was on the phone with some financial planner guy who was trying to help me out with tax filings and the like. When I mentioned that he couldn’t courier something to me because I was living in India, he paused and said, “That must be really different.” I replied, “Yeah…it is…but after a while it’s just like anywhere else.”

I’m still a bit shocked by my admission. Not even a year into living in Bombay, and I’ve kind of figured out its rhythm. The buildings I once looked at with disdain because of their crackling or nonexistent paint now just blend into the cityscape. Weekend trips to Chor Bazaar, a veritable souk-like market lined with rows of vintage furniture and appliances and teeming with people, is much less daunting now – almost enjoyable, despite the vicious bargaining that goes on. And, for better or for worse (mostly worse), I am used to seeing kids under 10 hawking flowers in the middle of the street; packs of stray dogs lying near dumpsters; and the sea depositing mounds of trash on the shore as the tide goes out. Yeah, India has some kinks to work out. But for the most part, I’m enjoying it here.
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It’s tough being an animal in Bombay, especially now as the sun stays out longer. Crows fight in mid-air over scraps of food. Cats shriek at night below my window. And dogs have that ever-more sleepy hang-dog look as they look for shadier places to doze.

It has also been especially hard being a human animal these last few weeks as summer has begun to emerge. Not because of the heat. But, because a new bird has entered the menagerie:

The Evil Asian Koel
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A bout with jaundice - or even a little tummy ache now and again - certainly doesn’t encourage adventurous eating. But I am happy to say I am back to enjoying the interesting range of cuisines that Bombay has to offer.

On the low end of things, the most exciting development has been mine and some co-workers subscriptions to a daily tiffin service. What’s a tiffin, you might ask? Well, I think it’s probably one of India’s best inventions. The item itself looks a bit like a thermos with multiple compartments for Indian food staples, such as dal, rice, veg or non-veg entree, chapati, and raita, salad, or mango/lime pickle. The top container, which typically holds the least messy of the food items, may also contain a note. In our case, since we have a tiffin service, the top part contains a hand-drawn bill for the week’s tiffins. Though, I like to imagine that wives who send tiffins to their husbands stuff love notes in the top.

For a couple of weeks now, we’ve been getting the 5-part tiffin and it’s been great. I really look forward to my lunch-time surprise now. And, the best thing is the cost: about $1 per day.
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Bombay (Mumbai) makes the U.S. papers thrice in less than a month.

Tale of 2 Cities: Mumbai? or Bombay?
“Though the membrane between these two cities is permeable, there are plainly two realms, of Bombayites and Mumbaikars, where one name slips out more readily than the other…”[IHT.com]

Mumbai to Midtown, Chaat Hits the Spot
“Asking Indians in America about chaat, India’s national snacks, is like asking Americans in India about burgers: the word unleashes unbearable cravings, nostalgia and homesickness…” [NYTimes.com]

In Mumbai, Those Bollywood Nights Heat Up
“‘Every night is a party in Bombay,’ said Suketu Mehta, the author of Maximum City: Bombay Lost and Found. ‘These bars would not look out of place in SoHo. It’s like being in a First World bubble.’” [NYTimes.com]

The dream is that the rest of India could adhere to the same standards that govern the upkeep of the Taj Mahal. The grounds are well-manicured, with nary a speck of trash, paan (the betel-nut narcotic) is prohibited so as to keep users from spitting its bright red juice all over the monument, and vendors are kept to a minimum, thereby providing a mostly tranquil environment in which to view the ultimate of the Seven Wonders.
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I have a love/hate affair with awards shows. I love watching them to see what people are wearing and who wins, but I usually can’t bear the acceptance speeches. Indeed, I love watching the Oscars, and I’ll definitely be tuning in on Monday morning (yep….they’ll be live at 6:30 a.m. in India) for a short while before heading to work. I don’t know why I even care about watching this year, as I have yet to see any of the films or actors that are nominated. But Chris Rock should be in fine form.

Bollywood is also in the award-giving spirit, and will be giving out its 2004 awards tonight. The cool thing about the Filmfare Awards is that the nominees were only announced last week, so the hype is kept somewhat to a minimum.

I doubt I’ll be watching, even though, in this case, I’ve seen two of the movies (Swades and Hum Tum) nominated for best film. Of course, I’ll be rooting for Swades to win that award, as that’s the film that Anthony had a bit part in! The other three that are nominated for best film are Dhoom, Main Hoon Na, and Veer Zaara. I can’t speak for the latter two, but I know that nominating Dhoom and Hum Tum for best film would be akin to the Academy nominating “The Fast and the Furious” and “You’ve Got Mail” for Best Picture. Bollywood churns out up to three films per week and these are the best they can come up with?
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I must say there is one upside to being sick in India: the drugs (and the doctor visits) are very cheap. Not sure if I mentioned before, but I had the best dental cleaning ever while here and it cost about $25. That’s not a co-pay amount. That’s the full fee.

At any rate, I’m on all these drugs for the jaundice now. Some have worked, some haven’t. But at least I haven’t spent a ton of money to find out. So far, I’ve spent Rs. 583.75 on seven different kinds of drugs. I think that’s about $12, but you can check for sure on oanda.com.

I did a quick search on the net to see what the going rate was for three of the drugs that I’m taking now: Liv.52 DS (an herbal drug to replenish the liver), Becosules capsules (for B vitamin complex), and Allegra (to stop the itching that comes with the late stages of jaundice). The prices I have paid don’t even begin to compare with what I would pay in the States, or even if I slipped over into Canada.
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Fellow misplaced expat Karilyn hit the nail on the head with her recent comment. Indeed, I have come down with jaundice and I’m finally somewhat well enough to sit up straight and write about it.

Basically, I have succumbed to the second - yes, second - outbreak of jaundice in Bombay over the past three months. Hurrah! I can count myself among many of Bombay’s movers and shakers who also have the disease! My doctor believes it probably came from drinking ice. Apparently, none of the poorer people, or “servants,” as she called them, have contracted the disease - only the people who are able to go to nice clubs and let their guards down when ordering gin and tonics. Let’s just say I don’t think I’ll be ordering any of those again soon.
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Today’s a day off from work, so I can’t complain. Nevertheless, I thought I’d “celebrate” Republic Day by following up on the BMC demolition drive. It seems that the BMC wants to delist slumdwellers from the voter rolls because, in essence, once their homes are destroyed they no longer have addresses. And, without an address, you can’t vote. Sounds pretty democratic to me…

BMC wants evicted slumdwellers delisted
[from Times of India on 1/21/05...full text follows in case link ceases to work]
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Pondicherry

If you really need to take a break from India, then Pondicherry is a good bet. Anthony and I had set our sights on this former French colony long before we came to India, but we weren’t sure how it had fared in the tsunami.

It turns out that Pondicherry has a really high sea face below which lie stacks of treacherous black rocks and tetrapods. A few people died in Pondicherry. The town had some of the lowest numbers of deaths in TN, but it certainly would have been worse had Pondy not had such a reinforced wall. Even a few weeks later, high tide looked menacing – but I suspect that is how it always is. Posters that appeared to be several months to years old warned swimmers about the Devil Sea.
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Less than three weeks after the tsunami hit, I was able to visit Tamil Nadu (TN), the Indian state that, in addition to the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, suffered the most damage. Most of the people who died in TN were south of Chennai (formerly Madras) in Nagapattinam.

I was unable to visit the latter over the past weekend, but I did get the chance to see Madras, Pondicherry, and some of the coastal towns in between. And, while those towns didn’t suffer casualties as heavy as Nagapattinam, the effects of the tsunami were somewhat noticeable. More conspicuous (but not surprising given the hardships of the travel industry in DC and NY after 9/11) was the seeming lack of tourists.
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Just when I start to think that Bombay is a world-class city, ridiculousness ensues. The BMC (Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation) – the org responsible for overseeing city planning – has recently gone on a rash of demolitions against illegal structures. The demolitions have included not only slums – something like 60,000 have been destroyed so far – but also local restaurants or businesses that have, say, an unlawful mezzanine or an unauthorized wall.

The destruction of the slums is horrible, and people have expressed outrage that only poor people were being targeted. So, in order to seem fair, the BMC decided to go after big money places, too. That includes restaurants, such as Colaba’s Koyla, destroyed on Tuesday, and Seijo and the Soul Dish, a very high-style, month-old restaurant in Bandra (owned by friends of friends of mine), which was destroyed yesterday.
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Several weeks and a new year since I last wrote, the tsunami has wreaked unimaginable havoc in Asia, though, luckily, not in Mumbai. Many of my friends and family, as well as many people I’ve never met before, have gotten a good lesson in geography, which has resulted in many more emails and calls than I got in the past couple of months. It’s nice to know people pay attention to the news every once in a while.

I’m also happy to see that the Tsunami Help blog, the address of which I posted on December 28, has gotten more than one million hits! The site looks really polished now, and has a wealth of information about everything related to the disaster. It’s amazing what the contributors have been able to put together in a little under two weeks.

I wasn’t affected personally, but I have been apprehensive about random blogging in its wake. A sort of survivor’s guilt. I am reminded of the headlines of the satire paper, The Onion, a week of so after 9/11: “A nation longs to worry about stupid sh** again.” So I took a little break.

However, there have been some interesting developments on this side of the subcontinent that may or may not have been a result of the tsunami. Over New Year’s weekend, Mumbai was *gasp!* a bit chilly and windy (we’re talking maybe 70 degrees), perhaps an effect of meteorlogical disturbances. And, speaking of disturbances, some strange objects have washed up on the beaches here. We were near the shore on New Year’s day, and saw that a whole pig had washed up. As this area is populated with Muslims, who don’t eat pork, and Hindus, who don’t eat meat, we were slightly concerned about where this pig came from. Even when we’ve traveled around the countryside and passed farms, we haven’t seen anything resembling a pig. Could it have come from Southern India? Thailand? Who knows.

Even more depressing was seeing dozens of pairs of flip-flops - mostly children’s sizes - on the shore. I’m hoping it was just a coincidence. Alas, it was a grim reminder.

Despite all of that, New Year’s was nice, as we had some friends visiting from out of town. The weather, as I mentioned, was right pleasant and January’s climes have been very enjoyable. I should be back in better blog form soon.

In the meantime, a quick rundown of what I’d be writing about if I thought the time was right:
1) Amitabh AND Abhishek on Karan
2) Klum and Seal?!?
3) The Hooch Train
4) India’s fascination with Bryan Adams and Richard Marx
5) The pleasures of Indo-Chinese food (definitely more on that at a later date…)

Seriously, back to the tsunami…I have really been annoyed by the fact that India has, for the most part, refused aid relief from NGOs and other countries. I can understand it’s a pride thing. But, this tripe is coming from a land that has yet to eradicate polio, and is currently facing a jaundice epidemic in cities and in villages. There’s no shame in asking for (or accepting) help, India. If you ask me (and I know no one is), there’s more shame in being stubborn.