The 13 people that ring my doorbell every morning between 8:30-10:30 am.

*Fiiiiiine, maybe not every morning, but many many many mornings, and many many times when I don't want to get out of bed.  No, but really, there are many people that ring that doorbell...

13.  Nature's Basket delivery – OK, to be fair we call Nature's Basket (NB) usually every other day for our daily necessities (who can live without 'near organic' eggs?).  But, still!  Also, it's sad but true that NB's number is always in my most recent called list.  Either I call them too much or don't have enough friends (both are plausible explanations).

12.  Water delivery – We also call Empee stores (yes, that's the real name) thrice a week, but it's the only way to get potable water to the house!  Also, side note, if the manager says, "Anything else madam?  We sell everything for you people" again on the phone, I will likely lose my shit.

11.  Sunita (and sometimes, Manoj) – My favorite husband and wife (admittedly, the only one I know) domestic help duo that used to work for my Grandma back in the day.  Although Manoj only graces us with his presence from time to time, his positive feedback on my music selection and his stories about working in the Bollywood film industry indeed make him more fun than Sunita.  

10.  Random new maid looking for work – This could be helpful in case Sunita/Manoj decide not to come but it generally is an awkward interaction in which I end up promising something I don't mean to and then, well, I feel bad.

9.  Trash boy – Yes, I call him a boy because he actually should be in school, a topic we've broached a few times to no avail.  Alas.  He gets mad when I try to put my trash downstairs so he doesn't have to ring my doorbell and calls me Auntie (an issue I will take up at another time)... clearly he's not one of my favorites.

8.5. Trash boy (again) – This time, he comes to take our glass bottles and pays us 1 Rs. for each of  them (yes, I generally feel judged at the amount of bottles we have but no, not bad enough to stop calling him).  Recycling is happening but at the expense of his education (pun intended) and my uninterrupted morning sleep.

8.  Ironwala – No explanation needed.  He's also really fast so most of the time we're just super confused like, "Huh, who is it now?!"

7.  Sabjiwala – Despite repeated attempts to explain that we really don't want to buy veggies at 9 am and that we promise to call when we have a vegetable or mango craving, he still comes to the door.  I think there's something else going on... I defer to my flatmates to explain.

6.  Plumber (or another maintenance man that was supposed to come the day before) – It ain't easy running a house!  (Case in point: How-to: Get a Cooking Gas Connection in Delhi)

5.  Electricity bill delivery man –  I mean, really?  Isn't this why mailboxes were invented?  ...And the Internets?

4.  Water meter checker man –  Yaar, check the meter yourself!  But to be fair, homeboy did help a sistah get some work done with the Delhi Water Board, which is next to impossible (but apparently, not next to free... the price you pay for government services, I mean...).

3.  Newspaper seller – Take your headphones out and write down what we're saying... WE DON'T WANT THE TIMES OF INDIA!  OK?  OK.

2.  Old newspaper buyer (aka kabadiwala) – The sound of him screaming 'kaaaaabaaaaadiiii' when cycling down the street is actually one of my favorite things about Delhi and has been since I was a kid.  Anyway, he also pays us for our old newspapers, so, yeah, I like him.

1.  Flipkart delivery dude –  Yes, dude.  Officially my favorite door bell ringer.  He brings fun books that I can track on the Flipkart website and even though the card reader doesn't work, he had a big smile on his face and offered to drive me to the ATM.  FedEx 2.0?

Looking at this list / hearing the doorbell ring over a dozen times every day for a random assortment of boys, men, walas, and dudes often makes me want to a).  Kill myself, b).  Permanently disconnect my doorbell, or c).  Move to an island.

Unless, that is, I can figure out how to have a hot guy ring the doorbell...  doorbell 2.0 + shaadi.com 2.0 = where are you?!

Indian-English-isms for Survival (and other things)

The 11 'must-know' Indian-English-isms (with American-English translations).

11.  My house is bang opposite the road with the petrol bunk.
(My house is opposite the gas station.)

10.  Do the needful and revert back tomorrow itself on the same.*
(Let's catch up tomorrow.) *Huh?  Seriously?  What are these words?!

9.  What time do you reach?  I'll be there.
(What time do you arrive?  I'll be there 1.5 hours after I say I will be.)

8.  I was remembering you today only.
(I thought about you today.)

7.  I'm shifting next week.
(I'm moving next week.)

6.  The meeting has been preponed* to 11 am.
(The meeting has been moved earlier.) *I know, right, wtf! What is 'pone' anyway?!

5.  What is the USP?
(What is the ultimate selling point?  Used even in casual conversation, no MBA required.)

4.  Even if you feel pressurized, take a decision.
(Even if you feel a lot of pressure, make a decision.)

3.  That party was too good yaar.*
(The party was awesome.) *Definitely one of my favs.

2.  [Head Nod]
(Usually 'okay' or 'yes' but sometimes 'no' or 'I have no idea what you're saying.')

1.  We are like this only.
(This is how we are, get over it!)

And don't forget, a wine shop does not always sell wine, a hotel often does not have rooms and 'tolet' is not a misspelling of toilet.

How To: Get a Cooking Gas Connection in Delhi

Update:  I've been living in Delhi now for over two months.  It's been a [mostly] positive experience (see below for explanation).  Our family has a flat here that I voluntarily moved into to set up and help work out the kinks (the faulty construction does not cease to amaze me).

But now things are looking up... among the best things in the house are the curtains we had installed so the watchguards from next door cannot creepily look inside, house plants that bring a [very] little piece of greenery into our home, the ever-important mixey to make lassis (it's mango season!) and of course, a gas connection.

How To:  Get a Cooking Gas Connection in Delhi

Don't worry, I'm not actually going to take you through the painful 31-step process that took me more than 4 weeks, 7 visits to the office, over a dozen phonecalls, a handful of tears, 2 visits to obtain 'black market gas', 2 affadavits, a couple of forged signatures, 1 lost friend, 1 bruised foot, a bruised ego and well, a bribe.

Instead, I'll just provide highlights (or, as those who saw me in Delhi during that time would call very very lowlights) of the disaster that is part of getting a new flat up and running in India.

3.  Ater making countless phonecalls, I finally realized my point was clearly not getting through.  Frustrated, I called the only person I knew that would support me / have an impact on the gas company.  I called Bauji, my 92 year old Grandpa.  I'm not exactly sure what he said but all I know is that within 1 hour someone had come over to do the required inspection.  I should have taken him with me on visit #1.

Lesson learned:  You can't get anything done alone.  In the craziness of a place like India, a land without proper shystems, the organized chaos can only be navigated if you reach out to your trusted network, Grandpas included.

2.  After making countless visits, I finally realized this process was going to take much longer than early anticipated.  Frustrated, I decided the only way to make do without a legal gas connection was to, well, get an illegal one.  Somehow I found my way in the dirty smelly market that is Govindpuri and reached Gully #7, where a friendly Sadarji was selling gas on the black market.  I picked myself up a canister, came home and had a dinner party (thanks for the wonderful meal, Bvu).

Lesson learned:  You have to think out-of-the-box and be okay with stop-gap solutions.  Many times, these solutions (or as it is termed here, 'jugaad')  are way better, if not the best, ways to work around the shystem.

1.  After making countless threats to cancel my order, I finally realized that no one was bothered by my screaming fits.  In fact, nothing would motivate them to help me out (even after I stormed out of the office one day, kicked the metal gate and suffered from a bruised foot).  Only when I one day went into the office, told them I would bring in mitai (sweets) if I received my gas connection by the week, did I see some movement.  Within 48 hours, I was finally legal.

Lesson learned:  You have to pay a bribe.  Even if it's in the form of mitai, some 'chai pani' (literally means 'tea, water' but means bribe/tip) is always required and will turn any negative situation into a positive one.


Every day is a learning experience – even after almost 4 years I'm still learning how to live in India.  Even though it was indeed a struggle, at least now every time I hear the click click of the gas burner and cook a meal in the kitchen, I really appreciate it.  While I'm looking forward to many more delicious meals, I dread the day I need to get the canister refilled...

Questions you should never ask someone you meet in Goa...

My time in Goa flew by – who knew 3 months could go by so fast?  Now in Delhi, I've spent some time reflecting (and trying to remember) exactly where the time went.  Aside from dabbling as a Bollywood/ Bhangra DJ and dance instructor, I spent a lot of time exploring by scooty, watching the amazing sunsets (I know, I know, but they were so beautiful!), and hippy-ing out at the drum circle (who knew the djembe was so awesome?  ...now I do because I own one!)

Goa is state of mind more than anything.  Those who go there for the 'season' or longer than a short drunken holiday, really find like-minded people and a vibrant culture cultivated by those who have really invested in the 'goan culture' – the artists, musicians, entrepreneurs and adventurerers are everywhere.  Goa is also just plain fun, no matter how you look at it (remind me again why we say too much fun is a bad thing?)  One of my favorite things about Goa (aside from the amazing things that happen when my hair is exposed to saltwater every day) is the openess and judgement-free attitude – anyone can try anything (obviously this opens the gates for touts and frauds and crazies but it also gave me a platform to try things that I would have been wayyy too scared to do anywhere else).

It's hard to explain more than this, so instead I suggest you go there yourself to discover your own Goa, but whatever you do, definitely rent a hut on the beach (relax, some even have wireless).  Don't worry about what to do or what to say, but here are a few things not to say to be sure to gel with the hippies. A few questions you should never ask someone you meet in Goa...

6.  Are you a DJ?  (Because actually, every 2nd person is one!)

5.  What was Goa like in the [insert different decade here]? (You'll just feel depressed you missed Goa at its peak.)

4.  What do you do? (...to sustain this lifestyle for half the year).

3.  How many kids do you have at home?  (Or, are you running from anything else that I don't really want to know about?)

2.  Where are your shoes?  (I told you, it's a state of mind.  But, no, really, try walking around sans shoes.  It's so liberating!)

1.  OK, forget the shoes, but where are your clothes?  (...as opposed to the hippy ones you now wear OR, more likely, the ones that actually cover your body that you used to wear when you came from wherever you came from).

But, remember, it's totally acceptable for anyone and everyone to ask a person their age, because afterall age is just a number and it doesn't necessary 'correlate' like we think it would with question #4, which is obviously taboo.

As they say in Konkani (the official language of Goa), oh wait, I didn't learn any Konkani (I'm actually quite disappointed in myself for that one).  Anyway, as they say on the Goan beaches, shanti shanti!

The many beautiful people of Arambol

Here's a guest post from Mal (you may recognize her from my adventures in Singapore).

Arambol. Land of long sandy beaches, of great Italian pizza and cheap beer, the legendary paradise beach from the days of the hippie trail. The scene is alive and well, and full of fabulous Burning Man types, hot yoga bodies, and flower children. But there are a few other groups that you may not have expected. Here's a short introduction to the creatures you will find, roaming the beaches and sand bars of Goa.

7. Indian holiday-goers.

People normally talk about all of the expats and foreigners in Goa, but in reality tourism from within India is growing too. Many were on beach vacations, and many dudes were seen swimming in underwear. I guess swimwear isn't a trend there yet for single men? They seemed to be very amused by the hippie ladies and many fantastic photos were taken with groups of young Indian guys and a dreadlocked, leather bikini girl. Score! But really glad to see it's not just an enclave of foreigners.

6. Old Hippies.

These guys are the real deal. Some of them came to Goa for the first time in the 60's, back when there were no formal places to eat and the only place to stay was a tent on the beach. It was a legendary end destination for the hippie trail overland from Europe, through Turkey, Afghanistan, and Iran to India.  Some of them have stayed since then, but many come only for the Winters and return home when their six month visas are up. It appeared that many were bringing their adult daughters back to Arambol as a coming of age trip. I wish could have lived in a time when it was politically possible to make that amazing journey, or at least wish my parents were that cool!

5. Israeli backpackers with dreadlocks.

After completing compulsory military service, Israeli youth are set free and paid a few thousand dollars. So what to do? Travel around India and hang out in Goa for a few months? Why not! Arambol is full of young Israelis, trying to have a good time after a few years of strict military life. The restaurants even cater specifically to them and normally have an Israeli section on their menus. That said, I did have some delicious hummus and falafel. 

4. Drum circle enthusiasts.

Every evening at sunset there is a drum circle down the beach. At least ten to fifteen people get together and play music, while people dance, and vendors sell jewelry. There was also a cookie girl, and her chocolate chip was pretty awesome. Everyone dances together - from families with children, to hula hoop girls, to poi swingers and 60 year old women flapping their arms. Pretty dang glorious. And on my last day, I couldn't stand it any longer, so I bought a drum! A little late, but oh well, Munich summers will never be the same.

3. Russians in speedos.

Another surprise group is Russians. And not just fancy tourist Russians from Moscow, but young and middle aged budget tourists. Apparently there are many cheap flights from smaller towns all over Russia, flying direct to Goa and giving some people their first taste of the beach. (And escaping Winter!) I'd never really met young Russians backpacking before so it was very cool to meet some in Arambol. They can be identified by pale complexions, gold accessories, and large bald men in speedos.

2. Hula hoop professionals.

San Franciscans will know the hula hoop types. You know, those girls who can dance around with hoops gliding all over their body and you want to try too, but it just falls down and you look awkward? They are also in Arambol, often spotted near the daily sunset drum circle. Seems that it works wonders for abs too. And even children are into it. We saw an ad posted for hula hoop lessons with…a ten year old.  They can also be seen practicing in the sand before sunset, wearing iPods, exposing their midriffs,  and getting their picture taken with many large groups of Indian male tourists. Nice! (Example here) 

1. Kashmiri salesmen/ masters of the party schedule.

So where did we look to find out about parties? Online, posters, flyers? Nope. Since the police aren't very fond of parties in the area, they usually seem to be quite subtle in their marketing techniques. Which is why, when we wanted to know where the party was, we just stopped on the main road and asked the Kashmiri dudes who hung out on their motorcycles and ran shops. Two for one, if you need to know where a party is AND purchase a leather pouch.

We had an awesome time in Arambol, and although we had thought about taking the train to Kerala and seeing more of South India, it just happened that we stayed in the same place for 12 nights. The more Pooj, the better!  I must note that the one group I sadly did not identify in Arambol is Ravers. Ok ok, I know the 90s are over and all, but I thought at least a few would remain, glowsticking away in a remote corner of the world. I guess the Goan cops have done an excellent job of turning down the bass and the rave. Oh well, someday I will bring rave back and it will be epic. Just wait!

Until then, adieu and thanks Goa for helping me get over my fear of riding on motorcycles!

Mal

p.s. Thanks, Mal!  Like Mal says, Arambol is full of um, interesting people...! Some of my favorites are: Samurai Suzuki the Bob-Marley-singing/guitaring musician from Japan, Space Baba the staff-fire-dancing-hippie from Ecuador & Tony, the 7-year-old-DJ from England.  You gotta see it to believe it. 

3 things I miss about the Chenz

3.  Filter Coffee.  (I.hate.Nescafé.)

2.  Besant Nagar.  (It was like IFMR college)

1.  IDLY!  (Obvi.)

***

Hello from Goa!

I've been living in this bamboo hut+ (complete with a bathroom, electricity and wifi!) and will probably stay through February (or until I get bored, super famous or run out of money).

I'll be blogging regularly (again!).  My long (and romba pathetic) absence can be attributed to laziness, summer wedding(s) and being, well, jobless (it's funny how the more time you have, the less you actually have!)

As 2011 comes quickly to a close (ahh! can you believe it?)  I look back on this year of transition. Although I did not spend nearly enough time with family and friends back in the US, my year in India has been wonderful and full of amazing new and dear friends, newly developed hobbies like cooking (does mint chutney count?) and DJing (say hello to Arambol's only Bollywood & Bhangra DJ, DJ Rani!), and many many many adventures (and just as many misadventures) in navigating Chennai's dating scene, planning the future (including maintaining a positive bank balance), throwing crazy theme parties, experimenting in randomness (5 am yoga, composting, GMATing, OCI mishaps, avoiding Indo police & life sans Facebook) and of course, exploring my inner hippy.

Here's to wishing on a star (wahhh wahhh) for an even more exciting 2012!

Must-knows before visiting/living/talking about Chennai...

My cousin, Bunty, recently came to visit from Delhi and I realized then how important it was to prep someone coming to Chennai for the first time.  Every city has its nuances and cultural mores, completely agreed.  But, for some reason (and possibly for the same reason why many times I am forced to justify why I still live here and if actually do like it), Chennai has its quirks that just need to be explained.

So, for future visitors (including mama and papa bhatia who are descending upon Chennai next week), here are some things to keep in mind...some of the weirdest things about Chennai are what make it such an interesting/crazy/romba weird place to be.

5.  Lungis are the new pants. 
Once you learn how to correctly tie a lungi (it's not quite as easy as it looks), they are really comfortable, really cheap and come in a variety of really cool colors (making them ideal for theme parties across the globe, FYI).

4.  Add 'aa' to any word to um, be understood. 

Seriously.  Straightaa, Rightaa and Leftaa are part of my daily vocabulary.  Try it – you'll never get lost again – that is, unless you're looking for street signs.

3.  Address Rajini as Rajini Sir.  
Rajinikanth, the iconic symbol of Kollywood cinema for the past thirty years, is worshipped across theatre halls across the South.  Never dare utter a negative word... or for that matter, even something slightly neutral if you plan to make Chennai home.  Oh, and don't forget to bring the milk for the ritual 'Pujas' that are performed for him during and soon after the release of a new blockbuster hit.

(By the way, check out a music video, Kilmanjaro, from his latest hit, Robo.  Trust me, this is not to be missed.  A friend of mine describes it as an anthropologist's nightmare... but for sake of identity protection, I will not quote him directly.)

2.  It's all about rice.
Rice is a staple of the Tamil diet.  Whether breakfast, lunch or dinner (or, even dessert, like payasam), rice is on every menu, always.  Many dishes are made from ground rice batter like the ever-popular idli, dosai, idiyappam, utthapam, and appam varieties, while other dishes are undeniably just rice-looking, like pongal.  It's all about the rice.  White rice.  Brown rice (ok, let's be honest, not so much).  Red Rice.  Sambar and rice.  Tamarind rice.  Lemon rice.  Mint rice.  Curd rice.  In attempt to not sound like Bubba Gump... I'll stop there.  (Fortunately, Shruti's wonderful food blog offers suggestions and tips to find and enjoy 'non-rice' eats).

1.  Romba is the only Tamil word you'll ever need to know.
Learning Tamil is romba hard so it's better to learn one word romba well so you can be romba informed when you need to romba impress someone or are trying to romba fit in.  Romba thorough list?  I'd say so.

*Addendum:  I'd suggest you'd read about the Chennai auto-wallahs here.