Big city, small town

I don't think anyone would argue with me when I say that Mumbai is a bustling metropolis.   It would be difficult to call a city of 20 million people anything else, after all.  You have so many people in this city that many are forced to sleep on the street - there isn't enough housing for everyone.  On a nightly basis I will pass by people sleeping in doorways, on medians in the road, or just on the sidewalk (which provides an explanation for why many Mumbaikars choose to walk down the middle of the street rather than the sidewalk).  Traffic is so crowded and the roads are in such poor condition that it is not unusual for my colleagues to have a 2 hour commute to work - each way - every day.  And most people in this city (something like 90% of people here) don't even use personal transportation but rely on the public buses and trains!  I have yet to take any public transportation, but I've heard that it isn't unheard of for people to crowd themselves onto the subways that they will fall off the train as it's moving, fall onto the tracks and die.  Similarly, I've heard stories about inter-city bus trips through the desert where the ticket inside the bus costs full price, and a ticket for hanging onto the outside of the bus is half price.  As long as you're ok with the guarantee that if you fall off, the bus will leave you where you land, you get a great deal!  This entire country is overcrowded, but Mumbai is a special case.  People from all regions of India flock to Mumbai because it is the largest city in the country, so of course there must be more opportunities for jobs and housing here than elsewhere, right?  Wrong.  The stark majority of people in this city live in slums, and I've already mentioned those that don't even have that luxury. 

With the monsoons coming, I find myself wondering what exactly is going to happen to this city with the change in seasons.  An independent report released recently showed that Mumbai's readiness for the monsoons is abysmal.  It's rained a few times already, and the roads clearly don't have proper drainage to handle just a simple shower, let alone consecutive days of hard rains.  Actually, that reminds me - I need to invest in a substantial pair of good rain boots.  Genius that I am, I didn't bring anything appropriate from the states over here with me. 

Side note - as I'm writing this blog entry, the guy who is in my apartment cleaning it today just came over and turned the air conditioner in the living room off as I'm sitting right here.  Um, excuse me, buddy?  I turned it on when I walked in the room.  I'm wearing a freaking fleece top for crying out loud!  I don't want to be rude so I'll wait until he leaves to turn it back on.  Does that make me a coward?  Please don't judge me.

Anyway, Mumbai is huge.  But actually...it's not.  I'm learning very quickly that the circles in which I travel in Mumbai are quite limited, and I'm starting to feel like I'm back in Durham living in the "Duke bubble" or in EGR and the bubble I lived in during high school.  While this is indeed a city of 20 million people or more (probably more - I don't exactly trust the government here to conduct an accurate census of the slums), people here don't cross cultural or social barriers to mix with each other.  I'm not sure if this has anything to do with the lingering caste system, or if there are other drivers behind this dynamic.  Regardless, the friends I am making and the people I am meeting - seemingly randomly - on a daily basis in my social life are actually part of a small sub-set of the Mumbai population, and it's unlikely that I'm going to become friends with anyone outside of this sub-set. 

The limitations on my social circle are four-fold:  First, you have socioeconomic limitations.  The places that I am visiting in my social life for dinner or drinks are not accessible to >99% of the population here.  People can't afford to spend the equivalent of $10 on a meal for their entire family, let alone a single drink at a bar (by the way - have I mentioned how alcohol is so expensive here?  Food is cheap - I rarely have a meal for more than $2 US, but drinks here carry the same prices as in the US - mostly due to state-level taxes).  The second limitation on my social circle is the fact that I speak English, and only English.  I've been shocked - shocked! - at how well everyone speaks English here.  I would expect the people at work to speak well, but the randoms that I'm meeting out and about are similarly fluent.  It turns out, of course, that this does not mean that the entire city of Mumbai is fluent in English - far from it.  It's just an issue of selection bias that is skewing my perspective.  Third - I'm not actually hanging out in a very diverse set of locations.  I've mentioned Bandra a lot - after all, it had a lot of fun bars and restaurants, and many of my friends live there or spend a lot of time there.  Bandra isn't actually a big neighborhood, and it is largely populated by expats, Bollywood stars, or Indian people who have a lot of international exposure.  That explains why the only crepe restaurant I've come across in Mumbai is in Bandra - that neighborhood's target clientele are the people in Mumbai most likely to want to eat (relatively) expensive crepes.  The fourth and final limitation on my social circle is related to common interests.  There may be people in this city with the financial means, English speaking abilities, and home address that are the same as the people I am meeting, but they choose not to hang out at the same places I am frequenting.  They may be home-bodies, have an aversion to bars that play Western pop music, or some other taste that keeps them away from the places I'm visiting. 

With these four limitations in place, I'm starting to feel like a local - within my particular social sub-set at least.  A few examples come to mind that illustrate what I mean.  Last night, for example, I was planning to stay in and go to bed early.  I rescheduled my first date with Mr. Pampered Man-child (which was supposed to be last night), and Ami Kevin and I put on pajamas and ordered take-out for dinner.  It had the makings of a typical night for me in Chicago, actually :)  Then Ami was contacted by one of her future Wharton classmates about going out at The Big Nasty, and she and Kevin decided to go join.  Kevin hadn't yet experienced the bench-dancing phenomenon, and we had all realized that after two hours of lounging, we weren't as tired as we had expected.  I tried to stick to my guns and stubbornly sat in bed listening to music, willing myself to go to sleep.  Becoming bored, I picked up a call from Mr. Straight Talk, who then serenaded me again for about an hour (awww) with some original songs of his.  He's pretty good, actually!  Once I realized his lullabies weren't doing anything to make me tired, I decided to just man up and go dancing.  When I arrived in Bandra, I walked in and saw Ami standing in a group, which included Ashwath - one of my future Booth classmates!  Apparently he works with one of Ami's future Wharton classmates, and so he had been part of the group of people Ami and Kevin had gone out to meet up with.  Small world!

Another example would be with my house party.  Ami, Kevin and I invited people from all of the different areas of our lives here in Mumbai.  We invited colleagues, friends of colleagues, random people we had befriended along the way, etc.  It turns out that there were two connections between our invitees that we hadn't expected or anticipated.  First, one of my Booth classmates (Hi Praveer!) knew one of Johanne's good friends, who I have become close with - Richa.  They were classmates at IIT Delhi and had been meaning to connect since they were both in Bombay, and it took my housewarming party for them to actually hang out.  The other connection was through another Booth classmate, who is friends with Kishore, who is Ami's friend from San Francisco.  Like I said, it turns out that Mumbai is actually a very small town...

Thankfully for me, I'm not here long enough to start feeling suffocated by the bubble I'm living in. I'm still meeting new people weekly (if not daily) - interesting, intelligent, worldly people from diverse backgrounds...all of whom are spending time in my bubble.  It's actually a little comforting to come to the realization of how small "my" Mumbai actually is - it makes it feel more like home.

My Aryan Prince

Last night I went on a date with Mr. Straight Talk - our first date, if you even would call it that.  He and I had agreed beforehand that there was the possibility that we might not get along, so calling it a date was premature until we could tell if there was a connection (like I said, he's a straight talker).  I'm honestly curious today to hear his opinion on whether it turned out to be a date, since he certainly didn't act like it was when we were out.  Or if this is his idea of dating, then perhaps I'm getting the lesson in Indian dating culture that I wanted when I set out on this experiment. 

Mr. Straight Talk got off on wrong foot for the evening when he tried to switch our date from 7:30 pm to 7 pm.  It turned out that I actually had a pretty busy day at work yesterday (hooray!) so I told him I would try to make it by 7 but wasn't optimistic.  I get stuck in traffic on the way to Bandra to meet up with him, and so get there around 7:40.  During my car ride, he's been texting me with charming messages like "I'm bored."  Chill, dude - I told you I wouldn't get there until 7:30, so it's not my fault you have the attention span of a gnat and can't entertain yourself for a mere 30 minutes until I arrive!  Geez.

Upon arrival, I call him to tell him I'm there, and he sets off the tone in the most romantic way possible - a handshake.  I'm more comfortable with that greeting than if he had tried to kiss me or something, but it still was awkward.  We go inside the restaurant and he starts saying how this isn't the best place, but we'll have to make do, blah blah blah.  Um...you chose the restaurant, dude!  We could have gone somewhere else - easily.  Plus it turned out to be not that bad of a place - it was kind of a sports bar/restaurant playing some ridiculous combinations of 80s and 90s music - some of the songs I hadn't heard since the last time I attended a middle school dance (think Lady in Red).  Plus the food was good.

We order drinks, and he acts surprised that I ask for a gin and tonic.  His response is puzzling - that he had been under the impression that I was a party girl, and party girls don't drink gin and tonics.  I have two problems with that statement: 1. Why did he assume I'm a big party animal if he hasn't met me yet? and 2. Gin and tonics are perfectly social drinks with no negative stigma attached to them.  We start bantering (arguing?) about that, and I'm starting to think that this guy is the most argumentative person I've ever met about things that don't matter.

Next we order food.  He tells me he's a vegetarian and acts shocked that I say I am as well.  I start to explain to him that I've been enjoying it, that I had expected to be craving a hamburger by this point but am really not missing meat, etc.  He then takes the hamburger comment and changes the conversation to how he's an activist against cow slaughter.  I find this topic interesting, so we start talking about Hinduism and the reasons that cows are sacred here.  It quickly becomes clear that religion is one of his favorite topics of conversation, so off the conversation goes down this politically charged and emotionally sensitive rabbit hole.  I don't think I will ever be able to do justice to the ridiculous nature of that conversation, but I'll record a few gems here for posterity:

Him: "People think that everything that happened before Christ was born is mythology, but that's not true.  It's history!"
Me: "I'm pretty sure everyone else calls it history too."
Him: "No, but the Catholic church instituted the Gregorian calendar to make people think that anything that happened 'BC' didn't really happen."
Me: (eye roll...sip of my drink...check the time on my phone)

Him: "Evolution isn't real  - it isn't fact.  It's just a hoax that Darwin made up."
Me: "Then how do you explain the fact that people are taller today than they were in the middle ages?"
Him: "They haven't gotten taller over time - they've gotten shorter!  The average height of a human used to be 6'5"..."
Me: "Um, no it wasn't...but you're proving my point that populations have changed over time.  And what's another word for change?  Evolve! Granted there are environmental non-genetic factors affecting something like average height, but..."
Him (interrupting me): "Yeah but natural selection is still a bunch of bullshit."

Him: "People and animals were all created at the same time by God, so it's impossible that people and monkeys are related to each other."
Me: "Do you agree with the scientific classification system that maps kingdom, phylum, etc.?"
Him: "Yes I don't dispute science."
Me: "Do you agree that humans and monkeys are both mammals?"
Him: "Yes..."
Me: "Then you agree that we're related to monkeys!"
Him: "No there's no way we're related to monkeys!"
Me: "Agree to disagree?"
Him: "As long as we both agree that I'm right."

Him: "Do you believe that there is a higher power of some kind in the world?"
Me: "Yes of course I do..."
Him: "Then you're definitely not an atheist."
Me: "Um, I never said I was an atheist..."
Him: "Yeah but now you know you're not because of how you answered my question."

After about two hours of that nonsense, it was time to go to Blue Frog to meet up with my friends.  Actually - there are a few other things to note about our time at the restaurant.  First, I was really put off by the way he treated the waiter.  We were sharing a paneer dish for dinner, and the waiter had divided up the food onto our two plates, leaving some on the original serving plate.  The serving plate was right next to me on the table, but when my date noticed that I had finished what was on my plate, he calls the waiter over, points to the food, and say "serve us."  Um, really?  This is definitely a cultural thing here that I've noticed about other people too (not everyone, but some people) - people don't always observe the niceties when making requests.  Ami and I were talking and we think it may have something to do with the way that these types of requests are translated from Hindi into English. 

The other off-putting conversation we had was about race.  He kept telling me that he's Aryan. My basic understanding of what Aryan means is that it's some kind of European people that migrated to the Caucasus region, so it makes sense that there would be some people in India who self-identify as Aryan.  He is definitely very fair for an Indian - he looks nearly as white as I do, actually. In my experience, though, the term "Aryan" conjures up images of white supremacy and ethnic cleansing, which are not the most endearing topics of conversation on a first date.  I asked him if he ever felt that by calling himself Aryan if he ever felt that people reacted negatively to it, and he basically then just gave me a lecture on what he means by Aryan and how he has Irish ancestry, but missed the point of the question entirely.  Then we were back to the topic of how all people were created at once by God and that God created different races at once, and how white people (Aryans) are nomadic in nature and so therefore they don't farm as much, which makes it even more impressive that they don't eat meat.  Or something - I zoned out for part of it.  Then we were back on the topic of meat and how India is the only country in the world that's a vegetarian country (even though I pointed out that there are non-vegetarians here and being vegetarian isn't a law here) - oh and let's not forget about Nepal where there are also a lot of vegetarians.  He then talks about the Moghul invaders and how they're the reason that some people are non-veg here because the Moghul armies told the Hindus that the reason they were so fierce in battle is that they eat meat and therefore have fewer qualms about killing people...because they already kill animals, and what's the difference really?  I'm going to stop here because I'm getting exhausted just recounting the conversation, and I think you have an idea of what it was like...

We had planned the date on Thursday even though I already had plans to go to Blue Frog.  He had told me over email and gchat that he is "passionate" about music - he's a musician who composes and performs his own songs, so I figured he would love the whole Coke Studio performance - plus it was the finals, where the bands that we had been watching every week for the past month had been whittled down to the top 5, and they were all competing for a spot on the TV show itself.  I figured he would be in his element....oh how wrong I was.

He had asked me earlier if it was ok to invite a friend to go to Blue Frog with us - I had told him it was completely fine, especially since a bunch of my friends were going to be there.  His friend and my friends had all arrived on time (we were late due to his long-winded religious diatribes), so I was hopeful that we could all just hang out and have it be ok.  Once we got to the club, though, he kind of started ignoring me.  Ok, maybe I won't go so far as to say he ignored me, but he definitely wasn't acting like we had come there together.  He and his friend would stand there talking while I sat and listened to the music.  He talked to my friends but kept his distance from me.  I would turn around and ask him his opinion on the music, and he would respond with something negative like "It's terrible - I hate fusion music."  Charming. 

The first three bands were just "eh," but I was waiting to hear the fifth and final band because my friends had seen their performance a few weeks ago (but I missed it) and they've been talking ever since then about how great the band was.  After the fourth band, however, my date tells me he wants to leave to "go on a drive."  He invites me to go with him, which sounds like an absolutely terrible idea in my book.  I ask him where exactly he will be driving, and he says that his friend will be driving but that they're going to go "wherever."  He again asks me to go, and I tell him that I want to stay and see the last band and plus I want to go home afterwards.  He asks why I don't want to go with him, and I tell him - quite honestly - that going for a drive at 1 am with two strange men sounds like a recipe for abduction for me, and I'm doing my best to not get kidnapped while I'm in India.  He laughed and said his friend is the abductor type (I'm pretty sure he was joking...I hope), and then took off.  Oh right - he gave me a handshake before leaving.  How romantic.  Afterwards, Praneetha told me that "going for a drive" is something that people do in Bombay at night, since traffic is so bad during the day that you never get the chance to just cruise.  She said it also could be a code for "let's go make out" but I'm really hoping that's not what he meant, particularly because his friend would be there too.  Either way, I'm comforted that he wasn't trying to lure me away for devious purposes - that the whole "going for a drive" thing is normal.

You'd think that would be the end of the story, but today he has been texting me and asked me out on a second date.  I actually said yes - not because I think I have any future with this guy, but because I'm expecting great future material for this blog.   Plus I've probably been a little unfair to him above - I spoke only about the negative experiences, but he does have some redeeming qualities.  He's clearly intelligent (although drastically misinformed), passionate about his country, and a talented musician.  He was nice to my driver and made me a laugh a few times, so he's not all bad.  Plus he's kind of fun to argue with because he's so used to arguing that I don't feel bad at all about getting up in his face.

His charm has continued during our texting conversation today.  I'll leave you with one direct quote from today's conversation as a parting treat:

Him: "Also wanted to tell you that you have a very pretty face :)"
Me: :)
Him: "And pretty eyes and smile too :)"
Me: "Aren't my eyes and smile technically part of my face?"
Him: "Technically some people who have a pretty face need not have pretty eyes or smile."
Him: "They can just have nice facial features and shape such as nose ears lips...Salma Hayek has ugly eyes, but still considered a pretty face."
Me: "But if they have ugly eyes or smile then it's hard to say that they have a pretty face"
Him: "Do you always reason so much about compliments people give you?"
Me: "Always.  Are you always so argumentative when you're complimenting someone?"

UPDATE:  He just called me and serenaded me at the office with a live acoustic performance of "When You Say Nothing At All."  (He's working from home this afternoon).  It was sweet, actually.  Like I said - there are redeeming qualities to him - plus I've never been serenaded before.  Bonus points for Mr. Straight Talk. 





 

Some well deserved shout outs

Last night Ami, Kevin and I hosted our (belated) housewarming party!  Various attendees were quick to point out the fallacy of the term by noting that we live in an apartment, not a house, and that we've nearly reached the midway point of our residency there, but I don't think that "I Just Want To Have a Party On My Awesome Balcony Before My Time Here Is Up" has the same ring to it...

I was so happy to hear feedback from everyone yesterday about my last post.  I'm glad that so many of you can find entertainment by living vicariously through my dating life.  It's fascinating to me to hear everyone's opinions on whose date invitations I should choose to accept - I was expecting everyone to answer the same 1 or 2 people, but everyone has a different opinion!  Beware that I'm mentally inferring things about your taste in romantic partners based on the advice that you're giving me.  Side note: my mom pointed out that it wasn't clear from yesterday's post that I haven't actually met all of these men.  I really hope you all know me well enough to understand that I wouldn't actually meet up with Mr. Slick & Slimy, but I wanted to set the record straight in case of any lingering ambiguity.  So far I've gone on 3 dates with Bachelor #1 and will be going on my first dates with Bachelors #2, #3 and #4 in the next week. 

A particular thrill for me was to find out how many of my Indian friends are reading my blog as well (whatup India peeps!).  I began writing this as a way to keep my family and friends back home apprised of what I'm doing all the way over here, plus to keep a record of the ridiculous things that happen to me (and that I perpetrate on my own).  I'm honored that people who already live in Mumbai find at least some of what I have to say relevant enough to spend their time reading it, so thanks to all of you!

On that note, I have a few other things to say to some of the people in my life - some comments are more sincere and others lean toward sarcastic - and am choosing to use this forum for that purpose.

To my flatmates Yummy and Klam - I heart you both :)

To the cleaning crew in our apartment: Thank you for doing what you do. I honestly don't know where the trash should go once the bin is full in my apartment, which is both hilarious and sad at the same time. Thank you also for not questioning the sticky floors or mysterious stains on the bathroom towels from last night (it's red wine and diet coke, in case you're wondering). 

To the makers of red Solo cups in the US: what distributors do you partner with in Mumbai?  The plastic cups we bought yesterday were clearly inferior in their efficacy at flip cup and beer pong.  I think we can dramatically increase your sales here by spreading the popularity of those drinking games, so it's in your best interest to get back to me with the name and address of a preferred supplier.

To the person(s) who turned on my shower last night and left it running, then turned off several light switches in my bedroom, including the ones providing power to my phone charger and air conditioner, I have only one question for you: why? 

To the one person who RSVP'd "yes" to the party last night and did not show up: you're dead to me. Seriously. No more intellectually stimulating late night conversations will be sparked only by your charming go-to pickup line, "hey." This girl isn't falling for the same old line more than 20 times, no sir-ee... Even fewer conversations will be prompted by the numerous facebook profile photo changes you make per day...except conversations happening at your expense while you're not around, of course.

To myself: Next time you host a party with drinking games, buy more beer. Wine is a much less popular choice during waterfalls whilst playing Kings Cup.

To the men on the street who stare at me all day, every day:  I know I'm not the only white person you've ever seen.  I see other white people here in Mumbai (nearly) every day, so clearly it's not like I'm THAT novel of a sight.  Maybe if I looked like the little-person Martian with three breasts from Total Recall then I would understand the staring, but I think we all can agree I don't resemble that woman all that much.  Please take a photo because it will last much longer than the eyeful that you're getting in the fleeting moment you see me...plus the photo will significantly lower the likelihood that I will start throwing produce at you, grabbed hastily from one of the many nearby street vendors.  You think I'm joking, but I'm not.  Bunch of Tomatoes: 30 rupees.  The look on your face when I knock you off your motorbike with a well placed throw of one of those tomatoes: priceless.

To the person who decided that women's clothing in India should almost always be worn with leggings: you're my hero.  I've never had a more comfortable wardrobe than the clothing I've bought here.  Except for maybe my extensive collection of sweatpants back home, but those are a little harder to pull off with heels.

To the people in Russia, South Korea and the Ukraine who are reading this blog: who the hell are you and why do you care about what I'm doing in India? I don't recall knowing anyone in those three countries, so I have to guess that you're either conducting research on snarky American slang, you too are planning to move to Mumbai for a period of 3 months and want to learn from my mistakes (hint: Smaash isn't actually a restaurant), or that you have so little going on in your lives that you spend all day using blogs of random tourists as a window to the outside world. If you make yourselves known via the comments section then I'll send you some home-made chocolate chip cookies or something...if only for my own peace of mind to know that I haven't gained any additional foreign stalkers on top of the ones I already have (cough-Tunisian dudes-cough). That's a topic for an entirely different blog, though.

To anyone interested in attending our next fabulous party, stay tuned.  We'll have to come up with another excuse for having a party - how about "Let's Drink The Wine We Didn't Finish At The Last Party?"  Don't worry, we'll have cheese there too.  Because we're classy like that.

The Dating Game

Annnnnnnnnd welcome to today's edition of The Dating Game.  Here we have a lovely bachelorette, an American woman living temporarily in the great city of Mumbai, India who is looking to explore the dating scene in this exotic land.  Now, let's meet our bachelors!

Bachelor #1: He's smart, ambitious and charming!  Since he owns his own startup, his long hours at the office mean that he has no room in his schedule for pesky things like a girlfriend.  He's still kind and caring and will be a great friend, as long as you don't ask him to have feelings for you whatsoever.  If you can handle the dearth of emotional validation, then cozy on up to Bachelor #1, Mr. Harmless Sociopath!

Bachelor #2: He's living far from home and misses his family.  He's the baby of his family and is used to his elder siblings, parents, and friends doting on him, but here in Mumbai he has no one to fill that role (Audience: "awwwwwww").  He's used to getting what he wants, and he wants you!  Welcome Bachelor #2, Mr. Pampered Man-child!

Bachelor #3: He works in finance and seems to be more comfortable talking about equity markets than....well, anything else.  He wears a suit with the best of them and can stimulate the most important part of your body - your brain!  Try to crack through the nerdy exterior and find the creamy romantic center of Bachelor #3, Mr. Awkward Finance Dude!

Bachelor #4 (that's right, folks - there are more): He works in corporate communications, but that doesn't stop him from telling you the truth - in all circumstances.  You won't be sure whether he is a master communicator or needs to spend some time in a Dale Carnegie seminar, but either way he'll keep you on your toes.   See if you can smooth off the rough edges of this blunt blusterer, Bachelor #4, Mr. Straight Talk!

Bachelor #5: He's rich and handsome...and he knows it.  He will sweep you off your feet, and leave you wondering where your inhibitions and several articles of clothing have gone!  He travels around the world for work and meets interesting people, tells interesting stories, and looks damn good doing it.  Good luck figuring out whether you can trust a single word out of his mouth, but enjoy watching his perfect teeth and tongue move when you're chatting with Bachelor #5, Mr. International Man of Mystery!

Bachelor #6: He's an advertising exec, but the question is: can he sell you on the prospect of dating him?  He's a party animal who loves posting photos on Facebook of him with women in skimpy outfits, and asks you inappropriate questions that are not commensurate with your level of familiarity.  You might feel like you need a bath after you talk to him, but he'd be happy to jump into the tub with you...and bring some friends along too!  Try to avoid catching herpes or a case of the dry-heaves when you shake hands with Bachelor #6, Mr. Slick and Slimy!

Bachelor #7: He's a fellow visitor to India, whose accent and dancing skills prove that he hails from the land of Colombia (arriba, arriba!).  He works in oil & gas, so he spends most of his time in mosquito-infested developing nations and is looking for a little more refined company.  Unfortunately his sense of adventure ends at the door of his career, since his idea of exploring Mumbai is going to the mall!  Explore a more boring type of adventure with Bachelor #7, Mr. Latin Lame-o!

Bachelor #8: This man needs no introduction - after all, he's a famous actor...in his own mind!  He boasts about his prospects in the entertainment industry while at the same time acting so desperate to meet you that he contacts you through two separate websites when you didn't respond to his initial message!  Good luck getting away from the grips of Bachelor #8, Mr. Actor/Singer/Dancer/Director/Borderline Stalker!

Bachelor #9: He is an outdoorsman and makes his money by shooting beautiful animals...with a camera.  Right now he's caught you in his lens and wants to capture your affections.  Spend some time with him to find out whether a photo really is worth 1,000 words, Bachelor #9, Mr. Wildlife Photographer!

Bachelor #10: He lives three hours away from you but is willing to drive to Mumbai to see you every day of the week if you ask him to.  He's not the cutest or the smartest guy, and his description of his job makes it sound like he's a dry cleaner.  If you want someone who will thank his lucky stars every time you decide to give him the time of day, then throw a bone to Bachelor #10, Mr. Dependable & Desperate!

Now, audience, you've met our bachelors.  Who do you think the lovely bachelorette should spend her precious time with?  After all, she's only here for 6 more weeks and doesn't have time to indulge every date request she receives.  Plus new bachelors are arriving every day - there are three more waiting in the green room that we just couldn't feature on today's show due to time constraints.  Cast your votes now and help our bachelorette decide with whom she's going to play The Dating Game!

The best balcony in Worli

I've been spending a lot of time on balconies recently.  It's not intentional, just something that has happened.  Last night, for example, I spent time on three separate balconies in Worli.  I think that makes me enough of an authority to identify the best balcony in Worli - or BBW if you are a consultant and like to use acronyms indiscriminately.

Balcony #1: My balcony.  My apartment has a small balcony - I like to go outside and just look at this insanely huge and crazy city I'm living in.  Last night I was surprised to find three different office chairs sitting on the balcony that hadn't been there the last time I was out there.  This is one of the odd parts of having a staff that services the apartment - they will move things, switch things around, bring in new items, all without explanation.  I'm not sure why we need 3 chairs on the balcony.  Maybe I'll find out, but they'll probably be gone in a couple days to back from whence they came...

Balcony #2: Aer.  This is name of the rooftop bar at the Four Seasons.  It has these gorgeous 360 degree views of Worli and the city of Mumbai.  Ami, Kevin and I have been meaning to go there for a while now, but our schedules have just been too busy.  With the monsoons arriving, Aer bar will close for the season soon, so we had to make sure to visit it at least once before the option was no longer available.  It rained yesterday afternoon, so that when we called the hotel around 9 pm, they were closed, but said that it's possible they would open later tonight if the rain dried up.  We decided to go grab dinner at a nearby restaurant and keep our fingers crossed that the bar would be open by the time that we were finished.  We met up with a friend of Ami's from San Francisco, who also lives in Worli, and he suggested Olive restaurant by the racecourse.  It's the same ownership as the Olive restaurant in Bandra, but much less "sceney" and more focused on the food than the crowd.  The food was Mediterranean and was just ok. We had a veggie mezze platter with some delicious hummus and pita and cous cous, but my gnocchi main course was underwhelming.  We spent some time catching up with Kishore (Ami's friend) and then called Aer and confirmed that they were indeed open - yippee!  We arrived at the bar - it's at least 20 stories up with chic white furniture and clear glass barriers extending about 6 feet high to keep people from being swept up by the wind, I suppose.  Since it was a Monday night, the bar was pretty empty.  We ordered some insanely expensive drinks (I made sure mine had fresh pineapple juice in it, yummm) and hung out there for a little while.  We talk about our upcoming house party, my dating adventures, and how Kevin was approached by a 60-year old man at a public pool and went to coffee with him randomly before the guy invited Kevin upstairs to his apartment (he declined) - and then how on the same day how he jumped on the back of a different strange man's motorbike to get a ride to yoga class.  He wasn't sure how to hold on to the guy so awkwardly held onto his shoulders as if he were giving him a massage - hilarious.  Kevin has been holding out on us with these stories - they happened 2 weeks ago!  Anyway, we took some photos of the view from this balcony, and then decided it was time to go home.

Balcony #3: As we're walking out of the hotel, Kishore offers to bring the group back to his apartment so that we can see the view from his balcony, which he has dubbed the best balcony in Worli - or BBW (I can't claim ownership of the phrase).  Ami has already been there before, but Kevin and I are interested and so we all go across the street to hang out a little longer (Kishore lives very close to the Four Seasons).  Since Kishore grew up in the US, his is by far the most western apartment I've seen here in the states.  He has a couch very similar to Jen and Chris' couch, an XBox and other various furnishings that just felt western to me.  It was comforting, actually.  His balcony turned out to be as good as promised - it didn't have the neon lights or expensive bar menu that Aer offered, but it has an expansive view and is quiet and peaceful.  I would have to agree with his boast - this is my favorite balcony in Worli.  Now if I can only figure out how to get invited back to enjoy it some more.... :)  Anyway the four of us hung out and watched Modern Family - American TV!  I haven't turned on the TV since I've been here - again, it was comforting. 

Worli is a great neighborhood to live in.  Aside from not experiencing regular power outages, it's an older part of the city with less crime and poverty than you find elsewhere.  We're close by SeaLink (the brige I posted pictures of a while ago), which means it's easy to get to Bandra and the northern suburbs without having to go through the city.  We have ocean views, a boardwalk on which to stroll, and cool breezes blowing down the streets.  Even though I still think that my firm is significantly overpaying for the rent in our apartment, I'm really glad that I'm staying there nonetheless. 

The rest of my week is filling up quickly.  I'm being courted by no fewer than 13 different men - it's becoming quite overwhleming, actually.  I had to turn down two separate date invitations last night because I had planned to go to Aer already.  These men don't seem to understand the concept of requiring some advance notice to get a date - they both asked me several times if I could meet up at various times/places last night. I'm not sure what kind of women they're used to dealing with, but you need to give me several days' notice if you want to get on my social calendar (especially here in India)!  I'm not sure why they're so eager - I realize that the novelty of me being white is factoring into their interest, but I'm not sure what else is behind it.  Guys in the states are so much more noncommittal - "hey can I have your number" doesn't always translate to the guy actually calling you.  Here, if I give someone my number they are texting me or calling me within hours.  Hours!  Hopefully these guys will quickly learn that they need to book me in advance if they want to spend any time with me - I already have plans for the next three nights lined up.  Maybe these guys are just used to girls being at their beck and call?  Or maybe I'm being too harsh and they're just eager to meet me because they know I'm leaving in 6 weeks.  I don't know - will keep you posted. 

Monsoon season

The much-discussed monsoon season seems to have arrived.  It rained in Goa on Friday night and Saturday morning, and then it rained for a little bit here in Mumbai last night as well.  I'm sure there will be many downsides to the rains - flooding, traffic delays, afternoons huddled indoors, frizzy hair, whatever.  But there is one upside - the heat!  The rains seem to make such a difference in this bloody infernal heat that it almost makes it bearable.  For this reason, I'm choosing to view monsoon season as a positive - if anything it will provide a reason for my clothes to be damp when I walk inside (or at least a reason less gross than how sweaty I am from spending 10 seconds outside).

In other news, my dating life here continues to progress.  I went on date #2 last night with the guy from last week. I gave him free reign to plan the date, since I was out of town and know little about the options available in Bombay.  He definitely exceeded my expectations on the planning front!  We ended up going to see a play - Chinese Coffee.  It's actually an American play - my good buddy Al Pacino made it into an independent film a few years back.  I couldn't help but imagine Al Pacino and Jerry Orbach in the lead roles while I was watching the actors do their thing, although the two actors on the stage were impressive in their own right.  One interesting element is that they took the American play and adapted it to be more relevant for India.  There were a few pop culture references throughout the play that they changed to be India-specific.  I'm not sure what the original references are, but they talked about Indian literature, Indian cities.  They changed some of the names in the play to be Indian.  They even changed some of the jokes to be in Hindi.  They would switch to Hindi for a sarcastic punchline of some sort, and the entire audience would crack up...except for me.  My date did graciously explain a couple of them to me, but I would have liked to understood the full nuance of the jokes without having to have them be explained to me.  Maybe I'll rent the Al Pacino version :)

The play was held in the Prithvi Theater, which is the one that Ami and I had tried to go to a few weeks ago and had arrived late.  I finally got to see a play in this theater - yay!  The play itself was wonderful - I was particularly impressed with the quality of acting.  The play was done as a single act - 75 minutes long with no intermission.  It's just two actors on the stage the entire time without getting a break.  They did a wonderful job of keeping the audience engrossed in what they were saying, showing variations in mood as the conversation between them drifted from happy to sad to funny to cruel.  Apparently one of the actors is a pretty famous TV actor here in India (although I would have no idea what he's been in).  The set was minimalistic, but it fit the mood of the play well.  It was a small theater, intimate so that we all felt like we were part of the action.  I loved it - will definitely be going back to see more shows at this theater.  I was also impressed that my date seemed to enjoy the play as much as I did.  I had been a little curious to see whether he actually enjoys the theater, or was taking me to a show to impress me and make himself seem cultured and worldly.  I was happy to see that he enjoyed the show as much as I did.  We've talked about going to other shows together while I'm here - we'll see how it plays out (pun not intentional).  I'm talking to several other guys as well, so I'm trying to keep it all very casual.  I can't break my promise to Mom, after all.  I reallly want to make a monsoon-related dating joke about when it rains it pours, but I'll refrain.  It would have been hilarious, though, trust me.

I'll make this a short post for now, since the Goa one was longer than usual.  Too much blogging for one day. 
 

Vegas rules apply...

I know you all have been waiting by your computers for days now, wanting to hear more details about my trip to Goa, refreshing my facebook profile to make sure you haven't missed the latest blog entry.  Alas, I'm sorry to say that my cohorts and I agreed to the following rule about Goa: Vegas rules apply.  What happens in Goa stays in Goa.  That being said, I'm sure they won't mind if I divulge a few fun stories...

...because they're awesome

As I've already referenced in my previous post, Friday night in Goa was a bit...ridiculous.  Goa is known as a party-centric beach place, so we took full advantage of the nightlife on Friday night.  First we went to dinner at a place called Brittos - it is on Baga Beach, which is one of the main party beaches in North Goa.  We had dinner on the beach and played a rousing game of "never have I ever," which certainly helped us get to know each other a bit better.

 

I'm a Michigan Wolverine - get it?

The interesting thing about it is that we were one of only a handful of women that we saw out that night.  All of the bars there advertise free drinks for ladies, which makes sense now that we saw the demographics of the typical crowd.  The vast majority of fellow club patrons were men, which was fine at first, then led to us receiving a lot of attention, and then got to the point where bouncers were having to kick guys out of the club because they were getting too aggressive with us.  It was around that point that we decided it was time to leave.  I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that 7 different guys followed me outside to try to continue flirting with me and trying to take me home.  They all stood in a circle around me as I was trying to leave - thankfully Kevin cut through the circle and helped me get out of there.  Most of these guys were Indians, but there was also a whole shipload of French sailors who had been on a boat for 6 months and were desperate for female company.  Like I said, we females were not short on attention at all that night.  Our prearranged taxi driver wasn't picking up his phone, so Kevin was trying to find us a ride home when it started raining - pouring, actually.  Ami, Praneetha and I could still hear the music coming from the bars around us, so we decided it was a great idea to dance in the rain...in the middle of the street.  At 3 am.  Thankfully, Kevin found us a cab driver, and although he charged us the Indian cabbie equivalent of an arm and a leg, we got back to the hotel safely, albeit soaking wet.

 

View of the club from the balcony

About our hotel - it was called Casa Anjuna and was located near Anjuna beach in Goa.  Goa is typically discussed in terms of either North Goa or South Goa (Goa itself is an entire state in India, albeit a smaller one).  North Goa is where the party beaches are, whereas South Goa has the more secluded beaches and smaller crowds.  Anjuna is in North Goa, although it isn't one of the bigger beaches, so we were able to have privacy, peace and quiet while we were in the hotel, but still be close enough to the action to have some fun.  Our hotel was actually more of a B&B than a hotel.  It was located in an old Portuguese villa/mansion.  Each bedroom in the place was different, with various antique furniture and hand-embroidered bedspreads.  Praneetha had read some online reviews about the second floor of the hotel being bigger than the first floor, so we viewed several different options and then chose our rooms.  I chose the room with the patio, which I later regretted because the open doors during the day meant that there were mosquitoes in my room at night.  Lesson learned about patio rooms in the tropics. 

Ami and Praneetha's room

Overall, though, the hotel was charming and beautiful.  It wasn't on the beach, but that turned out to be completely fine with us - beaches here in India are different than in the west, anyway.  You're not going to see rows of beach chairs lined up on beaches here.  You won't see people sunning themselves, either.  You won't even see people wearing bathing suits!  People go to the beach fully dressed and seem to just walk around, maybe sit down and watch the waves, maybe play frisbee or some equivalent.  They don't sun themselves because people here aspire to be lighter in skin color, not darker.  They don't wear bathing suits - particularly the women - because of a cultural norm here about modesty.  A woman won't want to be seen by her friends, family, or particularly strange men while she's in her bathing suit.  She would be mortified if she were photographed in a bathing suit, and her parents would be even more embarrassed by it.  I'm not talking about skimpy bikinis either - this applies to full tank suits with skirts attached to them.  We were informed prior to leaving for Goa that only sluts and Europeans wear bikinis anyway (!). 

On Saturday, we slept in and then headed to a nearby beach to relax.  One of the great things about Goa is that nearly all beaches in North Goa have what are called "beach shacks" up and down the coastline.  People flock to these beach shacks for shade, food, drinks, and music while still enjoying the scenery offered by the beautiful beachscapes.  We went to a shack called Curlies that was only about a 5 minute drive from our hotel.  It certainly was an out of the way place.  The car dropped us off, and then we had to walk at least 5 minutes on these narrow dirt paths through what felt like the jungle (I might be exaggerating) to get to the beach itself.  Once we were there, we didn't want to leave.  Ever.   We sat at a table with a full view of the ocean, a breeze in our faces and delicious food that was ridiculously cheap - even for India.  We sat there from about 4 pm until midnight - no joke. 

Not a bad view for 8 hours straight...

 

We walked along the beach and took photos, then came back up to order more food.  We made friends with people at nearby tables, chatted with fellow tourists, and swapped stories from the night before.  This was the most comfortable I had been while outside since I arrived in India.  Yes the heat and the humidity were still there, but the shade and the breeze nearly neutralized them for me.  We sat for hours, sometimes talking, sometimes just zoning out and watching the waves.  We indulged in different freshly squeezed juices to help rehydrate ourselves after the night before - watermelon juice and pineapple juice quickly became my favorites.  We bought fresh coconuts from a woman selling them on the beach, drank the coconut water and ate the fresh fruity flesh. 

We watched the sunset over the Arabian sea and let all worries slip from our minds.  This is truly a place of beauty and peace.  

 

After our late-night shenanigans from Friday, we were not in the mood to do anything besides sit and relax.  Somewhere along the day, I made friends with one of the stray dogs hanging around the shack.  She was so sweet and affectionate, it broke my heart a little that I can't take her home with me.  I named her Ginger, and she slept at my feet most of the day.

 

We went back to the hotel at midnight, wanting to get a full night's sleep so that we could go shopping on Sunday morning.  What was waiting for us at the hotel was...unexpected.  We arrive and find that the power has gone out on the entire second floor of the hotel.  Our rooms had no lights, no AC, no fans.  There was absolutely no way we could sleep there, so the hotel proprietor told us he would help us relocate to different rooms.  The weird part about it was that he kept telling us we weren't allowed to go get our bags from our existing rooms!  He and Praneetha were arguing in Hindi about it, and he kept saying that we could go upstairs to get our toothbrushes but that we shouldn't bring the rest of our stuff to the new rooms.  It turns out that he was being so particular about it because he thought we were staying the rest of the week, and the new rooms are more expensive, higher quality rooms, so he didn't want us getting a free upgrade because of a power outage one night.  Praneetha told him that we are checking out tomorrow, so only then did he stop arguing with us about getting our bags.

 

Actually tracking down our stuff turned out to be a bit of a challenge.  With no electricity, and the moon obscured by all of the palm trees, the second floor of the hotel was pitch black.  We tried using our cell phones to light the way, but they didn't provide much help in this situation.  The hotelier ended up giving us candles to light our way.  Unfortunately he didn't have candlesticks, so I ended up dripping hot wax everywhere, but it still was quite the experience.  I was walking slowly up a large wooden staircase in an old colonial mansion, with only candlelight to guide me.  I felt like Nicole Kidman in The Others!  We were all making jokes about Scooby Doo and The Shining throughout the journey to our rooms - thankfully no apparitions made any appearances. 

 

My new room turned out to be bigger than my old one, with higher ceilings and a fancier bathroom, but it hadn't been swept in at least a week.  There were dead bugs on the floor, and dust on the dresser.  I was annoyed but at the same time just wanted to go to sleep - thankfully I didn't end up with too many bug bites.  (Don't worry, everyone, I'm still taking my preventative malaria medicine).  The air conditioning in my room went off a couple times during the night, but not for long enough to make it uncomfortable.  Apparently power outages are very common here in India.  I haven't experienced any yet because Mumbai has fewer outages, and in particular the neighborhood I live in is well supplied with power because it is a richer neighborhood.  Apparently most villages in India only have power for part of the day - they have to go through most days without any fans or air conditioning.  I think I would have melted many years ago if I had to sit through the summer heat here without any relief.  The power outages are an issue of supply and demand - there aren't enough power stations to support India's ever-growing population.  Electricity ends up being rationed and funnelled to areas of the country that can afford it, which is why villages have the worst end of the bargain.  I am incredibly thankful now for the AC in my apartment and hope I never have to deal with it going out!

 

Sunday we woke up and went shopping as planned.  We went to a different beach in North Goa - Calangute, which is the biggest beach and the most crowded.  It also therefore has the best shopping, so we spent our time moving from stall to stall, haggling and buying cheap jewelry, sundresses and purses.  My friends were all impressed with my "power shopping" abilities - I would be in a store, find what I wanted, and negotiate the price down to at least 50% of what I had been quoted within just a few minutes.  When they asked how I learned to shop so efficiently, I told them that I had learned from the best, and having grown up in a largely female-dominated household, I learned quickly how best to maximize my time spent shopping. 

 

The splendid balance between breeze and heat was gone today - we were hot and sweaty while shopping.  After about 90 minutes, we all were ready to pass out and so stumbled into a restaurant on the beach for some much needed shade and refreshment.  I'm going to miss the freshly squeezed Goan juices (sigh), but thankfully am able to get similar juice treats near Haji Ali in Bombay. 

 

We weren't sure how long it would take to get to the airport, so we headed back to the hotel to change and pack up before our 5:20 flight.  We were trying to leave the hotel around 3 to make it to the airport by 4:20.  When we went to reception to check out, however, they apologized and told us that the power in that area is out, and so their credit card reader isn't working (!?!?).  The power was working in our rooms, so we're very confused about why they can't just plug it in somewhere else, but they insist that we have to get in the car and go to their sister property, where they can make the reader work.  The cab driver that we had arranged to take us to the airport - who was a referral by the hotel manager, actually - tries to charge us another 300 rupees for the inconvenience of having to go out of our way to this property.  Thankfully, the hotel agreed to pay the fee, but at this point I'm incredibly fed up with the cabbies in Goa. They are ripping us off right and left, and we have no option but to just pay what they're asking!  We should have stayed within walking distance of the beach so that we weren't completely dependent on cabs taking us everywhere, but most of the beachfront properties were sold out by the time we booked our hotel.  Grr.  Anyway, we head to the sister property, pay our bill, and finally are on the way to the airport.  Any concern that we had about missing our flight quickly disappeared when it became clear that our driver had a need....a need for speed.  The roads in Goa are rarely 2 lanes - most of the time it's just a one lane road with enough shoulder space for opposing traffic to pull to the side to let someone else pass.  This guy was flying down these roads, honking nearly the entire time to make sure that no one t-boned him when he came flying around blind corners!  At one point, he actually overtook an ambulance that was speeding with its sirens going.  Not only was he going faster than the ambulance on its way to an emergency, but he didn't even give the emergency vehicle the right of way!  Maybe he had a death wish, I don't know.  At one point we sideswiped a cow on the side of the road.  There are cows everywhere in Goa - street cows, mostly, rather than someone's property.  They graze here and there, take naps in the middle of the street, whatever.  They do what they want to do because being a cow in India is like being Tiki in my house.  They can get away with pretty much anything.  Anyway, this guy is speeding down the road and - I swear this happened - the side mirror on my side of the car hit a cow in the head!  He didn't stop - just keep driving.  This was by far the most terrifying car ride of my life - I'm so thankful (and honestly surprised) that we got to the airport in one piece. 

 

That's about it for my Goan adventures.  I'll try to post more photos later - the ones I have in this post are from Ami's camera, since I forgot to load mine onto my computer before I came to work this morning.  Miss you all - send me more emails!