Gudi Padwa

Gotham City

"Only vampires and Batman come out at this time of the night..." One of my co-workers in Mumbai told me that a couple of months ago, and I thought it was such a funny, but sad sentiment. It also gave me an idea for something to do for our team there to show some appreciation and have a little fun. We had a Batman-themed break one night with snacks and other goodies.

I believe working in an office at night goes against the laws of nature. There is very little natural light shining into the building for the few hours of daylight left. I felt like I spent my nights in a casino with no concept of reality.

I heard this story recently, and it confirmed my view on humans' lack of productivity at night due to it being against our nature.
"Humans are not nocturnal."

Everybody Loves the Sunshine...

My stomach woke me up again early Saturday morning around 4:45am. I took more anti-diarrheal medicine and went back to sleep. A phone call woke me up a few hours later. Lisa called to tell me that we'd missed our 8am flight. We planned to go to Admedabad (or Amdavad) to visit her family for the weekend, but we both overslept. Ahmedabad is in Gujarat state just north of Maharashtra state. She made a few calls and learned that we could leave on a later flight. We made plans to meet up later, and then we both went back to sleep. By the time I woke up, I felt much better. I had regained my appetite and was ready to eat as much as I wanted in Ahmedabad. At the airport, I almost missed the flight again trying to buy a couple of things from the airport bookstore. We had a special escort to the bus to make sure we made it on the plane. I have never missed a flight, so I couldn't believe I was about to miss 2 in one day.

Lisa's cousin greeted us as we walked out of the airport in Ahmedabad. That evening we went to a Punjabi restaurant for dinner, then went out for sweet treats - iced golas and kulfi. Iced golas are shaved ice with fruit juice on a stick, basically a snow cone on a stick in a cup. I didn't eat the kulfi, a frozen dairy product, because I'm lactose intolerant and I didn't want to take a risk with my already irritated stomach. We parked the car and walked from the iced gola stand to Law Garden, an area with open stalls for shopping and entertainment for families. The street was littered with children taking a camel ride, horse rides, and a goat-pulled cart. At first glance, I thought that goat was a baby camel because it was so big.

Everyday on our ride to work, our driver, Hussain, plays music for us. We've become enthralled with this catchy song called "Amplifier" by DJ Adee (he says his name at least 30 times). It is in Gujarati, so I don't understand most of the words. Lisa told me that the song is about trying to get a girl to sit in his car, and it's really silly. All I know is that he does these really simple rhymes, putting together bakery, pani puri, saree, chokary (I don't know what that is, but he says it a lot), Adee, Gujarati. We told the family about this song during dinner, and the Punjabi version came on a few minutes later. We thought the timing was hilarious.

We didn't spend much time there, but the little time that we did spend in Gujarat seemed to always be focused on what we were eating next. In addition to iced golas, I ate vada pav, chivanu, and other snacks/junk food for the first time. It's funny that I ate vada pav there because it is most well known for being a Mumbai treat. It is essentially a samosa between 2 pieces of bread with lots of spices and butter. It looked like the guy melted half a block of butter (the old-fashioned kind that your grandmama uses) on the burner just to make a couple of sandwiches. Then the spices are added to the butter, and the bread is flatttened into it like you would make a grilled cheese sandwich. It wasn't healthy at all. It was good though.

I have a knack for accepting the different experiences that I encounter abroad. I have no problem eating local foods, listening to the music, wearing the dress, adapting to the cultural differences, etc. However, the differences in the bathrooms just throws me for a loop. That's a pretty important thing that you just can't avoid. In Ahmedabad, I had to ask for instructions on how to flush the toilet and how to shower. Instead of pushing a button or lever to flush, I had to turn a faucet next to the toilet that sent a rush of water into the bowl. I was grateful that it wasn't the Indian-style loo that I've carefully avoided this time around. For the shower, I had to turn on the water, flip the switch for the mini hot water heater, then turn the knob for the water to come pouring out of the showerhead that sprayed the entire bathroom with water. The water sprayed from the showerhead, but it also poured into a bucket that was underneath the faucet closest to the floor. I didn't realize until I was done that the water coming from the lower faucet was hotter, and I probably should've just used the bucket to wash off instead of trying to "take a shower". Thankfully, it was only one night.

Overall, I enjoyed my time in Gujurat. The pace was a bit slower, and the streets were slightly cleaner than Mumbai. It was also hotter at 40 degrees Celsius (104 F), but it was dry heat since we were no longer on the coast.

DJ Adee

A year ago around this time, I was in another city on another continent that was also given its common name by the Portuguese. My travels seem to coincide with special events whether intentional or unintentional. Everyone celebrated Holi my first weekend in Mumbai, and the Maharashtra new year – Gudi Padwa – was celebrated this past Monday. Many of the ladies in the office celebrated by wearing sarees, and of course I wanted to participate. Just like my last trip, I purchased my saree the day before and didn’t have time to get the blouse “stitched”. The “ready-made” blouses at the shop didn’t match my saree. In my haste I forgot to look elsewhere for a blouse and also a petticoat. I wore a t-shirt and jeans to the office and waited until one of the ladies could wrap my saree. She was shocked when I told her I didn’t have a blouse or petticoat, but she fixed me up so well that no one knew unless we told them. I just tucked the cloth into the waist of my jeans, and my black t-shirt went well with it too. I looked in the mirror and felt like one of the Masai. I proudly represented 3 countries that evening – saree from India, necklace from Nigeria, and t-shirt purchased in America (but probably made in China). I took pictures with some of the beautifully adorned ladies. Only a couple of the guys dressed up. Many people in the office commented on how well I wore the saree and asked if I was comfortable. I was pretty comfortable, but I had to make sure that the hem was always down when I stood so as not to reveal my rolled up jeans underneath.


Later in the week, Sarika took me to her tailor to get my blouse and saree stitched properly. I also took dress materials for 2 outfits to be sewn from scratch, and 3 kurtas to be altered. My total cost was Rs 800 – less than $20. I knew it would be cheap, but I wasn’t expecting that figure at all. I should probably start bringing all my clothes that need to be altered with me at that rate. I also went to the “parlour” to have my eyebrows threaded for Rs 30. Anita told me that I could actually find it even cheaper in some areas. There is a salon at our hotel with prices more in line with US salons, but I refuse to pay so much while I’m here when I don’t have to. I’m still frugal even in another country. Some of my co-workers have a hard time bargaining and going with Indian recommended rates for tipping. Waiters clamor to serve them at the hotel restaurants because they leave extremely large tips. “When in Rome…”


I made it over 2 weeks without any problems, but this week my body was attacked by “Delhi belly”. I’m still trying to pinpoint the culprit. I eat many meals with Lisa, my co-worker, and we think it might be from some sandwiches from a bakery where we ate a couple of days for lunch, since that’s the only new stuff we’ve introduced this week. Or, maybe it’s a side effect of the daily malaria pills. All I know is that my stomach is unhappy and keeps waking me up when I should be in deep sleep.
This week was a more normal work schedule, so I had some time to read before bed, especially since I’m not able to sleep. I picked up a book from the small library in the office when I first arrived, called “My Forbidden Face”, but I only started reading it a couple of days ago. I also bought “A Thousand Splendid Suns” written by the author of a very popular book I read during my last stay in Mumbai. (Trivia: What was the name of the book that I couldn’t stop reading until it was over?) Both books are set in Afghanistan around the same time period with young, female central characters, so I keep getting confused going between the 2 books. There's something about being in India that makes me interested in reading about Afghanistan. :-)

Cricket Fever

India won the 2011 Cricket World Cup!

Crowd in the office watching the end of the quarter finals - India vs. Australia

Crowd in the office watching the semifinals - India vs. Pakistan

Crowd on the street in Bandra watching the end of the finals - India vs. Sri Lanka All those people were crowded around that tiny tv.

Somebody's watching me...

My experience in India is very different this time around. Last week, I worked nearly 100 hours and had very little time to do anything but sleep and grab food on the way back to work. Things are finally starting to calm down a bit. Also, my work schedule has changed so that I work most hours on the same day, instead of going to work during the afternoon of one day and leaving in the early morning of another day. I'm splitting my time between the Indian day shift and US day shift now, so I'm usually asleep by the time my friends and family get off work around 5pm. But I wake up hours before them to start working again.

I've taken a lot of fascinating pictures from the car rides to and from work, but I'm ready to get out and see the city in daylight now. I share a car with my co-worker for transport to work. She and I have found little things to make the long rides more tolerable. There's a certain point where she always looks for 3 cows that hang out together on a corner. Those cows played Holi a couple of weeks ago, because they still have colors on their horns and backs. Along that same road, I always look for my "Chevy Rickshaw" and she tries to help me get a picture of it. This elusive rickshaw stands out from all others because it has a bright red top and a Chevrolet symbol on the back window. I have to take a picture in it before I leave. Also, when we leave the office in the dark, we usually see trucks full of "flying chickens". The trucks have chicken cages on the back, and every time they hit a bump, you see the chickens bounce into the air. The same trucks are always empty when we see them during the daytime, and we know they've gone on to "Chicken Heaven". That sight makes my co-worker not want to eat the chicken sandwich we sometimes take for lunch, but it doesn't stop me. We also pass a busy truck stop at night that takes over the highway. I don't know what their capacity is, but trucks fill the inside of this station, and those that can't fit inside then park in the 2-3 lanes outside the truck stop along the highway. Just imagine passing a Flying J or Love's truck stop on I-20, and all the trucks are parked on the highway all night forcing the cars to only use 1 lane. The traffic is even worse when the trucks start to move again in the early morning to start their deliveries. They all seem to try to leave at the same time, forcing themselves on the road carrying heavy loads with workers sitting on top or inside the trucks in precarious positions.

Since I've been here, people have asked me if I am Nigerian, Ugandan, South African, and Ghanaian. Someone also called me Bob Marley (who happens to be very popular here) because of my hair. They are all surprised when I tell them I am American. They look at me in disbelief. I met another black woman at the hotel within my first couple of days in town. I was excited to see her and to actually have a conversation, especially after my experience the last time I was in India. She's a flight attendant from NY who usually stays at my hotel when they land here. We exchanged contact info. I also met a Swedish photographer at breakfast one morning over beet juice. We both sampled the hotel's fresh beet juice and agreed that we'd rather eat the beets than drink that concoction ever again. He was only in Mumbai for a day as part of a 12-day global photo shoot. He was heading to Dubai next. Check out his work. www.jacobfellander.com

The office is located near several malls. We walked over to the food court on the first day to pick up lunch, and I mentioned that there wasn't as much staring as my previous trip. No sooner had I said that, we walked in to the mall and all eyes turned in my direction. We went upstairs to the food court, and even the cooks stepped out of the kitchen to get a better view. The restaurant that we chose had a small window between the kitchen and the area with the counter and register. All I could see was a bunch of heads trying to look through that tiny window as I ordered. We had to wait a few minutes for them to get back to work and make the food, so everyone sitting in the food court turned towards us and watched us like we were animals on display at the zoo. It has been like that every day since. It doesn't happen as much at the hotel and the office. However, when we changed shifts and started working earlier in the Indian day, a new group of people had to get accustomed to seeing me in the office every day before they stopped staring as much. The people who ogle me out in public spaces seem to have no shame. They are not subtle stares either. They look at me as though I have three heads, 5 arms, and I breathe fire. I've started staring back at them. Most people turn their heads when they see me looking at them the way they look at me, but some just don't seem to get it. I saw a man and his children out yesterday. The children didn't pay much attention to me, but he looked at me for about 5 minutes straight, practically ignoring what they were doing. I went up the escalator, and his eyes were still fixed on me. I turned around and looked at him while I rode up. He adverted his eyes briefly. I stepped off, looked back down, and his neck was still craned to see me. Seriously? I need to start charging people a fee.

Truck stop during the day

"I see you!"

Empty chicken truck :-(

See the baby sleeping on the front?