This past week a good friend of mine, another expat from Target and another Michael, moved into Zen Gardens. He arrived from Minneapolis a few weeks ago, cleared his employment Visa, passed customs on his shipment, and his landlord just finished furnishing the apartment. His move was something I've been looking forward to since we both knew that he would be coming to India this year.
Between Michael's arrival at Zen Gardens and the Indian holiday of Sankranthi, the day on which the sun begins its journey northwards, it appeared to be a great excuse, er... I mean reason, to have a little gathering. Michael pressed his favorite kurta (traditional India attire which resembles a robe-like shirt over thin pajama-like pants), and I got to try out my newest kurta shirt--a shorter cut version.
Michael invited one his friends/teammates, Pandu, and his wife, Prasanthi, for some traditional Indian food and a ritual blessing of the new apartment. I walked down the street to the local flowers stands and bought fresh jasmine, marigolds, tuberose, and fresh roses with a water bowl to float them in. This would bring more new life into the space as well as provide a light natural fragrance for the apartment.
Prasanthi made sweet pongal, a traditional Indian dish made with rice, fresh coconut, and various nuts and fruits. It tasted like warm rice pudding--mmmmm. We then all walked down to Ruchi, a local favorite restaurant, and had a wonderful dinner containing a variety of Indian curries, garlic chicken, rice, and vegetables. Indian food is delicious and reminds me of when I lived in Hawaii, but instead of chopsticks you can use your hands. It's very fascinating--a little odd at first, but once you get used to it, feels more natural than anything I've ever experienced. Remember when you loved to eat with your hands as a kid? Well, welcome back to childhood! It's actually quite freeing. One word, however: remember to wash your hands before and after dinner :o)Happy Sankranthi!
Celebrate! I'm finally unpacked and set up in my new apartment. After being out of commission during the first weekend after I moved, I've finally managed to find the time and energy to set up my office, bedroom, living room, and kitchen. All of my things made it here just fine and dandy (thank you, Mohawk Movers!) so that was a relief. Time to play house.
My things are here, but they're not going anywhere for a while. Why, you say? I can now safely tell you that I'm not sending anything from India back to the US for the rest of my time here. Let's just say that I had a little "experience" at the DHL office this week... and without going into extraneous details, I was just sending an innocent small box of Christmas presents to my family (maybe 6 pounds total), and not only did they open the box which I had neatly and deliberately packed all neat and organized, but they also opened each and every one of the 12 presents; looked them over front and back, inside and out; then kinda re-wrapped each present, sorta; squished them back into the box (much to my chagrin); and an hour later charged me $130 to mail it (don't read this, Mom...) Ouch! Guess what friends? You're getting your souvenirs next fall :o)
So anyway, I'm glad to be settling into my apartment. Here's some shots of my swank pad... the best of part of the whole thing, however, is what you can't see in these pictures--the funky colored lights and lampshades that I have all around the apartment. At night each room is either Gold, Orange, or Deep Red. It's amazing and very warm :o)
I also bought lots of little trinkets, candle holders, traditional Indian incense and candles, and this place is turning into a regular ashram! I love it. Anyone who knows me knows that I can create a magical experience out of a cardboard box, sarong, some pillow covers, fresh flowers, a couple candles and presto! Instant decor (my landlord has amazing taste for 80s furniture :o) And oddly enough, even though my apartment is situated in the middle of bustling Banglore, it's quiet at night... well, except for that barking dog... well, and those fighting cats... but I can handle it... can't I... yes, I can... (actually, that's why God invented noisy fans!)
Oh, and a quick follow-up on my spa-esque bathroom--now that I've prevented the water from coming down in the wrong places, it's started coming up instead. Yes, as I was taking my "go quick before the hot water runs out" shower the other day both drains backed up into the tub and bathroom floor (there are drains in the tile). Voila! I had another wading pool. When I stepped out of the shower I could only think, "Ah--what's this? Another spa service? Foot Soak Treatment, perhaps? I tell ya, I am the most pampered expat I know!" Once again, "Oh well." I unplugged those pipes and now (knock on tile), the bathroom has been dry for two days.
Life is good.
Okay, so I'm up this morning getting ready for work and at my computer catching up on email when I hear water running in my bathroom. Since I just moved into this building last week and I'm not familiar with its distinctive "sounds" (you know how every environment has its own unique sounds and smells...?), I assume that it must be one of my neighbors taking a morning shower. So, just like the barking dog that yaps every morning, I try to ignore it.
After a few more minutes, however, I realize that it's sounding just a little too loud to be a neighbor's shower, so I decide to investigate. I need to keep my bathroom door closed due to the fact that mosquitoes can get in through the airvent in my window, so as I am approaching the door I hear the water getting louder and louder. My only thought at the moment is, "Hey--who's in my shower?!?" So I slowly open the door...
The answer? Nobody. A water pipe has burst and it's raining in my bathroom. Oh my.
At first I just stare at it think how amazing it is--this site to behold. The water is spilling through the ceiling tiles like a fancy art deco fountain at some posh hotel, until I realize that this beautiful fountain is actually filling my bathroom with water and I don't know where it's coming from or how to turn it off. My face quickly moves from curious to concerned... urgently concerned. I run to the phone and try to call the building maintenance--no answer. I call building Security--no answer. So I run downstairs (in my pajamas pants, of course) and flag down the nearest security guard. We run up to my apartment and this poor young security guard sees my bathroom turned shower and his eyes grow wide very quickly. He isn't sure what to do--they do not have any walkie talkie systems--he just stands there. I nudge him with a, "Well...??" and he runs off to get help.
Needless to say, within 10 minutes (4 inches of water) later, they are able to switch off the water main to my bathroom. I call my landlord and he brings plumbers 20 minutes later. They will try to replace the broken pipe this morning... or by this afternoon... or maybe by tonight... or possibly tomorrow. I just have to think, "Whenever..." That's part of the adjustment as well--"Indian time"--but it reminds me of "Hawaiian time", so another familiar feeling will live with me again this year as well. Another lesson in patience, perhaps...?
Not such a big deal--a little messy, a little unexpected--but nothing major. My only disappointment is that I didn't get a chance to take a shower this morning. Hmm... maybe I should have jumped out of my pajama pants and stepped into it during that moment of awe-induced inspiration! Now that's something you couldn't do in that posh hotel :o)
Onward ho.
Michael invited one his friends/teammates, Pandu, and his wife, Prasanthi, for some traditional Indian food and a ritual blessing of the new apartment. I walked down the street to the local flowers stands and bought fresh jasmine, marigolds, tuberose, and fresh roses with a water bowl to float them in. This would bring more new life into the space as well as provide a light natural fragrance for the apartment.
Prasanthi made sweet pongal, a traditional Indian dish made with rice, fresh coconut, and various nuts and fruits. It tasted like warm rice pudding--mmmmm. We then all walked down to Ruchi, a local favorite restaurant, and had a wonderful dinner containing a variety of Indian curries, garlic chicken, rice, and vegetables. Indian food is delicious and reminds me of when I lived in Hawaii, but instead of chopsticks you can use your hands. It's very fascinating--a little odd at first, but once you get used to it, feels more natural than anything I've ever experienced. Remember when you loved to eat with your hands as a kid? Well, welcome back to childhood! It's actually quite freeing. One word, however: remember to wash your hands before and after dinner :o)
