Who's coming in November!

On Wednesday, Nishu (Gaurav's Bro) took us around to look at the locations for everyone to stay when they come in November....Who's in let us know!

First stop was this cute little resort thing.  It easily was my favorite, although its not likely to be big enough depending on how many people are coming.  It isn't in Chandigarh, its a little more rural.  I swear, driving through the farmland I easily could have been in Illinois.  There isn't too much trash out in the middle of nowhere, its just fields. Really, could have been in Illinois.

After this one we checked out a couple of hotels. One was called the Lemon Tree or something.  I swear the must pump this god-awful super fake lemon smell into the hotel. (In hindsight Gaurav wondered if it was to keep the flies away.)  The hotel wasn't bad, but no one could tolerate that smell for a week.  Probably gives you cancer.

Overall the hotels are quite a bit different from the US.  I'd even venture to say they are dirty.  Not in a dust and trash all over kind of way.  But some of the chairs had stains, the carpets were not commercial grade carpet so they had track marks and were just really dirty overall.  Or you'll be walking around and there will be gross icky paan spit on the stairway. Here's a link to what it is http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paan  (Actually I figured it was sort of like an amped up chewing tobacco, apparently its way worse. Even the kind without tobacco makes your cancer risk shoot up.)

It just was a little different I suppose. In US hotels everything is generally pretty pristine. You might call down if your drinking glass had a spot on it, or your towel wasn't folded correctly in fear that it wasn't clean. So stains on the carpet and what not were a little different for me.  Made me feel a bit snobbish, but you certainly get used to things being a certain way.

We did stop by a marriott, which actually might have been nicer than the Marriotts I have stayed in in the US. And I think my last 4 hotel stays were Marriotts. The Indian marriott was also 3x more expensive than the other hotels!

We did a little more shopping afterword. We had to go home from the last store empty handed because the power was out, so they couldn't accept Gaurav's credit card.... 

Power goes out in India: No one even reacts, not even a little

Power goes out in US: Everyone freaks out and runs around and worries if there is a fire, or a tornado, or a terrorist attack.  Everyone HAS to know "what happened"

As usual, I came home and passed out.  Gaurav came and got me to say hi as Manik stopped by again, and so did Aman, another guy Gaurav works with.  I woke up, said hi.  Got bored of not understanding any conversation and went back to bed.

Gaurav tells me that Aman had a little too much to drink and then tried to give himself cancer with Paan...and ended up puking in the potted plants out front.  I was in bed long before this.

It wears the gloves before it touches the tablets.

So, on the way home from the dinner Monday evening, after “sharing”  a few glasses of Whiskey with gaurav’s uncle, I found out we were supposed to leave at 8:00 for Mukerian, the town where Gaurav’s dad grew up.  I bargained my way to an 8:30 departure time. In hindsight this was unnecessary, due to Indian time. I think we finally rolled out of town around 9 or 9:30.  

We shared the trip with the family friend who hosted the party the night before.  I’ll call him Uncle Chopra. 

He owns a pharmaceutical manufacturing plant near Mukerian, so Gaurav, Ravi, Uncle Chopra, his son and I all rode together. We’ll just say it was a little cozy in the back with three of us, but we managed.  We stopped by Uncle Chopra’s facility, got all bootied-shoe covered-hairnetted-and facemasked up and were given a tour.  That was pretty neat.  We were told we had to put on gloves if we wanted to handle the tablets.  As tempting as it was to dig my hands into a big box of random pills, I decided againstit. He’s all into using as much “Indian” stuff as possible, he gets all of his machinery made in India etc. Kind of like "buy American"...only...Indian.  They took us in and let us watch the whole operation, his daughter lives up there and runs the show for him. 

…You know how in the US most people would prefer their boss not come in and watch them?  I think in India it’s the complete opposite!  Anytime Uncle Chopra or his daughter walked into a room, all the employees stood up or stopped what they were doing (at least the employees that weren’t operating the machinery.)  Every time the boss comes in you get to take a break.  Instead of pretending to work hard, you actually get to stop everything you’re doing.  Pretty sweet deal!

So, they decided to stay behind at their facility for a while, so they arranged for a driver to take us the rest of the way to Gaurav’s relatives.  They have a really beautiful house, they used to run some sort of a grain processing plant or what not back in the day.  We had some more meet the family, two of Gaurav’s uncles live there.  I had met one before, because  they (aunt and uncle) had stayed with us for a few days in Chicago.  We also met his uncle that everyone calls Daddy.  He was older than the other siblings, and when their dad passed away he sort of filled those shoes. 

I had talked to Daddy on the phone before, and he invited me to his “village.”  He told me he couldn’t wait to see how I reacted to being in a village.  I found out they had a few cows there, so he promised that if I came to visit, I could meet and pet his cows.  I told him this was a deal.  So of course, when we showed up I was sure to collect on his part of the bargain.  He got some sugary type pellets stuff (I guess people eat it too), but apparently the cows love it.  He got a nice big bowl, and out we went to visit the cows.  He pointed one out and said she was an old lady.  When I asked him favorite he said that she was, then he looked around and pointed at another and said, this one too, then pointed to the next one and said “they’re all my favorite.”    Yep.  Me and Daddy could be friends!  I fed the cows, scratched some ears, happy girl.  He then took us for a little walk around the property, showed me their garden.  They had a peach tree, the peaches were about the size of a cherry tomato, but they were full grown.

He also let us take some pictures with his car from the 1930’s (I think), that was just a few years younger than he was.  It was in pretty awesome condition!  He also pointed out a huge tree in the back that was just a few years older than he was.

I have a hunch that everyone at this house knew about my extra special sleeping “talent” as everyone kept suggesting beds for me to sleep in, or asking if I was tired.  No one asked Gaurav or Ravi if they were tired and wanted to go to sleep.  This was pretty welcome, at least I didn’t feel like I had to sneak off to go take a nap.   I had myself a nice little nap for about an hour or so, once I woke up Uncle Chopra and his son were back,  eventually it was time to pack up for the 4 hours of back-seat-squishyness.  Its worth mentioning that not all the roads were paved on the way…so it was squished and bumpy.  But it was a good time.

Monday Monday....

Monday is a lot less depressing when you don't have to go to work.

Its Thursday now, so I can't remember all the small details, but I'll give it my best shot.

I'm sure I woke up at 6:30, I've woken up every day before 7am, but I'm still tired.  I think because I've been napping so much my body isn't quite sure what its supposed to be doing.

We decided that we wanted to go out and do some shopping.  Poonam decided to go with us and leave Taisha with a non-family member for one of the first times.  (Gaurav convinced Seema and Ravi that they should go to work, so they will have enough days off when we come in November).  We all agreed it was good practice, since she is planning to go back to work 3 days a week this fall.   Gaurav and I gave her a pretty hard time about being so worried and upset about it, but we know it was hard for her.  Indians put any American "Helicopter parent" to shame!

There were a lot of normal american/european stores, but since I can get that at home I wasn't really interested.  We wandered around, I bought some random trinkets and crap that I probably don't need but is pretty cool regardless.  There was a store that billed itself as "slightly naughty" or something to that level.  I'm thinking Victoria's Secret,. nope,more like Forever 21.  Now...really...with a billion people, how does this country manage to pretend to be so conservative...you're not fooling anyone.  Obviously there is tons of sex going on here....

We got the Indian equivalent of "garrett's" popcorn.  Obviously it wasn't the same, it was just regular popcorn.  But it was some of the best popcorn I ever ate.  It was also, seriously, like radioactive yellow in color.  I know I should be alarmed by this, but it was too good to care.

Shortly after we got the popcorn I had one of my more disturbing Indian experiences.  I was well aware that it existed, but I met my first begging child.  I'm sorry, you can't be ready for that.  Especially if it is something you never experienced.  Poonam shooed him away.  He was probably 5.  He wouldn't go, so eventually she handed him a handful of popcorn.  Of course, as you can expect that only makes it worse and he followed us for a store or two.  I know I had to ignore.  I don't have enough money or popcorn to feed the entire country's children...much less enough to feed even the begging children at the mall.  Its one of those things, you might want to help the one child you can, but the 30 others waiting will see and they'll all come and start begging. I guess you have to draw a line somewhere?  It was pretty distrubing.

After buying more crap, we knew there was a bar somewhere in the mall.  (its a larger outdoor mall....but don't picture outdoor malls in america.  Well...you can, but that's now how it looked).  There were no neon "bud light" signs in the window so it was a bit harder to find.  They were playing all american music, it looked just like a nicer bar that I'd be used to.  We had a drink and it was time to go. 

As we were getting to the car we were approached by more beggars.  A guy missing 1/2 of his arm and his child.  Again...the kids...sheesh...
BUT, as they were asking and asking. (Or what I assume is asking and asking because I can't understand).  Gaurav finally offered him one of the bags of popcorn we had gotten to bring home, so it was full.  He told Gaurav he didn't want it.
Just like the freaking bums in Chicago, they beg and say they are hungry, but when you offer them food they don't want it.  Makes it hard to feel sorry for them. Don't lie and tell me you're hungry if you're not.

So we meandered home.  Poonam actually did really well the whole trip, for as anxious as she said she was.  But she was certainly glad to go home to see Taisha.

On the way home Gaurav mentioned that we were going to go to his parents' friend's house for dinner.  I asked what time and Poonam just started laughing and said "there is no time, you just go when you want...but probably around 9-9:30" I can understand a culture that is maybe late for stuff...but how do you not have even a ballpark time to be somewhere.  Its like you just say 'come for dinner'...and people come whenever. (Worth noting, Indians eat dinner about the time Americans are thinking about breakfast.  Somewhere between 10 and midnight seems average)

So we go to their large, beautiful home.  (These people had come by on Sunday when the family was over so I had met them before).  They had arranged for a Dhol performer to come and play! He was accompanied by some random old guy who would periodically yell something that got everyone excited.  People also seem to wave dollars around everyone's head and then I think give them to the drummer.  I was so terribly exhausted I probably looked crabby and pissed off.  But it was really neat.  I just didn't have the energy to dance.  I just needed to sit an listen.  It seemed OK, it was mostly the dudes dancing together anyway.  I felt bad that I was such a party pooper, but I just. could. not. do it.  I was running on fumes already.  Apparently no one gets mad if their neighbors bang loud drums at late hours.  It was really nice of them to arrange the drummer for us, it was fun for everyone.  (The Dhol is the drum that Gaurav's friend Harish played for a little while at our wedding) 
We went back in and I got myself into a conversation about US healthcare with Gaurav's Uncle (Or whatever it is that I'm supposed to actually call him).  I sort of perked up during that and started sharing his Whiskey with him.  We ended up spending the rest of the night "sharing" the Whiskey.  The people who hosted the party were terribly nice.  It was a really good time.

We went home...and I passed out....

TGFF - Thank God For Facebook

So, after Gaurav's extended family found out that we would be in town, those who were able came by on Sunday for a party.

Let me just say, Thank God For Facebook.

Meeting a shit-ton of people you don't know is always "exciting"...now imagine if their first language is not your own, their culture is different, and you can only pronounce their names after practicing in a mirror for a week.  Facebook makes this 100x easier!  I've already been able to put faces to names (well, the pronunciation that I have made up on my own of these names)

The other really beneficial thing is that I made Gaurav list off his family tree a long time ago.  It just hung out in the back of my day-planner.  (Yes, I have an actual paper day planner, one that you write in with pens and pencils).  I would look at it periodically, or sometimes I would pull it out when I got a new facebook request.  As a general rule, if your last name is Jain, I would accept your friend request without having any idea who you were...

The other thing that helped make this a little less "exciting" was the receiving line after the Hindu ceremony.  I got to get used to that feet-touching thing that is reaaaaalllllyyy "different" if you didn't grow up doing it.  Gaurav's friend Kristen (Of Kristen and Harish) promised me that I'd get used to this.  She was right.  BUT the hardest part can be figuring out WHO you're supposed to do this do.  At first I thought it was anyone older than you, but its more like anyone a generation older than you.  So even if you have a cousin much older than you, it appears that this is a no-go.    So my strategy for this was to always hang back and be the last to say HI.  (This was pretty easy, since Gaurav hasn't seen his family in so long, he usually ran right up to greet them)....as I was waiting for my turn, I'd yank over some other family member that I had met all of 5 minutes ago and ask them who the new arrival was.

The other culturally different part of this is that, in the US you have "aunts" and you have "uncles" which are any collection of your parents brothers and sisters in their spouses.  In India, your maternal OLDER uncle has a different name than a maternal younger uncle, or a paternal older uncle, or paternal younger uncle.  You get the idea.

Now, I don't really know all the ins and outs of this, but I'm picking it up as I've met people over time.  But I don't know this well enough to remember it all on the fly.
So someone would say: "This is your..... Chachu"
I think to myself "Bless, you.  Now what was your name"

(I won't even get into the whole "cousins" that are sisters or brothers thing.)

The other thing that takes some time getting used to is that Gaurav's uncles, aunts cousins, whatever become MY uncles, cousins, aunts.  I would introduce my uncles as "Uncle Guy" "Aunt Mary Jane" etc...and then I would reasonably expect Gaurav to call them by their first name.  Its sort of like if you didn't know someone as a child, you don't really start calling them Aunt or Uncle as an adult.  Not so in India.

My new strategy is to see how long I can survive without calling anyone by any name.  Smile. Touch the Feet. Smile.

The one thing I am a pretty huge fan of is the "Uncle" "Auntie" thing.  Pretty much any family friend/anyone older than you who doesn't have some other "title" can be an Uncle or an Auntie.  I got familiar with this when I went to my friend's (Sree) wedding.  I asked her what her parents' names were and after standing in shock and awe at her mom's southern indian name, she smiled and just said "Just call her Auntie."  DONE.  You never have to remember any names.  This would be even sweeter if it applied to actual aunts and uncles.... I'll take what I can get.

Another thing about Indian get-togethers...they try to make you fat.  I had been in India all of 24 hours, after traveling for more than 24 hours and being on an adrenaline high.I was exhausted.  I didn't want to eat, I wanted to pass out.  But someone probably tried to suggest that I get something to eat or drink at least every 30 minutes.  And if I was eating, they try to shove more food on your plate.  Its like you have to "box out" your plate while you eat or else more food appears. I wish I had an indian relative around during girl scout cookie time.  I might feel less guilty if someone else is standing there telling me its ok.

At some point I must have looked like the walking dead because I was invited to "lay down for a rest."  I'm gathering quickly that most of the family doesn't know that "lucy" and "lay down for a rest" doesn't mean what you think it means.  I can have a 6 hour nap, and then sleep the entire night.  But, this might be in my favor, as people might not suggest that I sleep if they knew I wouldn't be back for half of a day.

This party started around 9am, and I can't remember exactly, but it ended somewhere between 9pm-11pm. There are multiple meals involved.  I feel like the  minute they put the food away, they bring it back out.  Thank God I was so tired, or I may have gained 15lbs in one day.

My computer tells me its 5:11pm central time, but I have no idea what time it is here.  I think somewhere around 3:45am here.  Normally I'm a champion at sleeping, due to a little "help" from mother nature.  Here I am sitting up.  I really have to find a way to save my boobs before I come back in november. I swear, no women must sleep on their stomachs here.

Anyway, Its technically wednesday morning here, and I am caught up through Sunday.  Hopefully I can get the trip finished before I come home.  I suppose 15 hours in an airplane on Friday might help finish up any loose ends.

More observations about India

So, here are some more general observations about India.

The driving:
   As much as the driving rules in India appear to be "optional," once I got used to riding on the other side of the road, it actually isn't that bad.  No one stays in their lane, bikes, horses, rikshaws, whatever...everyone shares.  But I think the reason this works is there is absolutely no road rage, no swerving, no aggressive driving of any kind.  Everyone lets everyone in, which seems to make it easier.  No one panics to merge, because its assumed that someone will let them in.  I honestly feel somewhat more comfortable here, the driving is a lot more relaxed, despite the initial feeling of complete chaos.

     Child seats are not used here.  This sort of made both me and Gaurav nervous.  We were driving down the street and there was a little baby hanging out the open window of one of the TukTuk's (Auto Rickshaw...three wheeled car)  I feel like that can't be safe, but I suppose they know what they are doing.

The 'security' detail:
     So, if I thought I was alarmed by they airport security with the assault rifles, imagine how surprised I was when we showed up at Nishu's bank and the door guard also has an assault rifle.  Everything here has a security guard.  Banks, stores, his parent's neighborhood.  The funny thing about this is that I guess the crime isn't that bad.  We were walking around the previously mentioned "lake"....and I was asking Ravi about the crime here.  He said the biggest crime is political corruption.  Followed by...rape.  But for the most part, things seem pretty safe here in Chandigarh.  I guess all the security detail is to keep it that way!

I get stared at.... A Lot.  I think this would happen a lot less if I was with a big group of white people.  I think a lot of the stares come from people trying to figure out the dynamic.

India has tons of gays:
    Ok, not really...well I mean, I guess I have no idea.  But because there is nothing wrong with two guys riding on scooters and motorcycles together, if you saw it in the US you'd think there were a ton of gay guys around.  Its also completely acceptable for two males to hold hands as they walk down the street, like...two straight guys.

Loitering People:
     There are just people everywhere, just hanging out.  Both me and Gaurav mentioned that it makes us both a little nervous. (Probably me more so than him, but he at least noticed it).  If there were groups of people loitering around in Chicago you would probably think they were selling drugs, or going to mug someone. People don't just hang out under trees on the sidewalk for fun.  There are just people everywhere.  Sleeping in the median of the road, wherever.  Nishu even took us to see the very expensive homes in Chandigarh, and even outside their homes was a woman just sleeping on the sidewalk.  I guess if you're tired you just lay down!  I might fit in well here!

The other really odd thing is that there is no transition.  Gaurav's parents live in a very nice neighborhood, surrounded by a few other nice neighborhoods...but on one side it butts up to a "slum"  There is no transition from one type of a neighborhood to another.  That would be like crossing the street from lincoln park and being in the back of the yards in Chicago.  I'm not really used to that amount of difference from one second to the other.

I'm going to come home with flat boobs.
     I knew the beds would be firm here, because when Gaurav's parents come to stay with us his dad likes to sleep on a thin futon mattress on the floor.  The bed is firm, but it wasn't bad.  Until I tried to flip over and sleep on my stomach as I normally do.  Well...since there is no give there's no where for my boobs to go except to be smashed back into my chest.  It was really uncomfortable.  All the women must sleep on their backs here.  I can go ahead and sleep on my back, but when I sleep on my back I snore...and wake myself up fairly often doing so.

Everyone here keeps complaining that it is so hot.  But I think its wonderful.  Its a nice dry heat, none of that sweaty-humidity-heat stuff.  I also haven't experienced any ridiculous amount of bugs.  I think I got bit a few times at the lake, but not like you would if you were in your backyard in Illinois in August.  So actually not that bad.

I guess I was a bit surprised at the amount of garbage laying around.  I was aware of this phenomenon (thanks Srividya!), but I guess I expected it to be more concentrated on the busy streets, or maybe in the poorer neighborhoods.  But really...its...everywhere.  It doesn't smell or anything, its just...around.

Its really dusty here.  I was aware of this, but I couldn't exactly figure out why.  For I while I thought it was because there were no curbs, but there were nice wonderful curbs in Chandigarh at the lake we went to.  (The lake was almost dried up).  Me and Gaurav decided it was because there isn't much grass here, so the dust just gets to blow around or is carried around.  Gaurav pointed out some of it is probably because of the people, there was a tuktuk just parked along the side of the road in the dirt, so it would then take off and spray and carry dust with it.  People also will walk through the dust.  Both of our eyes have been itching a lot. I think we aren't used to it.

--I suppose its time for bed.

The Surprises!

Alright, onto the actual surprises.  I'm slowly uploading the videos to youtube.  I think I will have two of them done right now, and I'll just update this post to include the third one when it is ready.  They take about 30-60 minutes each, but we have to fight over the power converters to get anything done.

Anywho...

So Manik drove us over to Gaurav's parents' house.  Apparently he had been there before so he knew where he was going.  I saw what I assumed was their house because I recognized the car...but then some random dude was washing it so I figured maybe the neighbor had the same car.  More on that later...

So it appears that we are going into the "neighbor's" house, but everyone here has their name along with their house number, and this house certainly said Ravi Jain...so in we went.  (Side note, Gaurav's parents have moved since he was last home)

We didn't knock of anything, just in we went.  We weren't sure exactly who was home, but Gaurav wandered through and found his dad, who promptly threw (very gently of course) the baby, Taisha, onto the bed when he saw Gaurav.  Taisha wasn't very happy about this.  Poonam heard Ravi making an excited ruckus about something, so she came down to see.  She said she could tell he was VERY excited to see someone, but had no idea who could be there.  She was as surprised as everyone else and was also so excited!

She wanted to call Nishu right away, but we told her not to as we wanted to continue the surprise!!

After the hugs and hellos, everyone piled into the car and the "neighbor" drove us to the school....  Ok, so that "neighbor" was actually their driver.  Apparently that's fairly common here.

The security guard tried to stop us on our way in, but Ravi just kept saying "Seema Jain Seema Jain" as we barreled through.  Apparently we didn't look to threatening because they let us continue.  No one knew where Seema's classroom was so we had to look in a bunch before we could find her.

She teaches pre-school so she was sitting in those tiny pre-school sized chairs with some of her colleagues.  When Gaurav walked in she shot out of that little-low-tiny-child-sized chair quicker than you would think was possible.  They were having parent-teacher conferences that day, and all Seema's parents happened to be on time, so she went and asked her principal if she could leave.  She got the Ok and off we went,back home.

Initially we had wanted to wait for Nishu to come home, (Saturday is a work day in India) but once we realized he wouldn't be home until 9-10pm, we decided to stop by his work.  Poonam called Nisuh (or he called her...I can't remember) as we were on our way over.  He asked what she was doing and she said going for a ride with Seema.  He warned her not to do too much shopping!

So we pull up to the bank, I barely have the camera rolling, (I wanted to get it started early so I was sure I got everything) then...about 1 second after I got it on, Nishu walked out of the bank just by chance.  He was just stepping outside for a minute and there Gaurav was!

Everyone kept saying that they couldn't believe their eyes that it was actually Gaurav....until they saw me.  I suppose I stand out a little bit and couldn't be confused with anyone else in the family!

We were pretty excited that everything had happened almost exactly as we had planned!  Which is pretty surprising given that we didn't know who would be home, what they would be doing etc.

Here are the links to the YouTube videos of the surprise moments:

Ravi & Poonam: http://youtu.be/pab3XvXqpDw
Seema: http://youtu.be/Yf6b9uTW2iY
Nishu: http://youtu.be/VHcI0DXx_lc

The Travel Journey to Chandigarh

Alright, most of you that know me are aware that I get annoyed/exhausted if I get asked to tell the same story over and over upon request.  If you didn’t know this, you do now.  In anticipation of this, I decided to blog about my adventure to India.  Maybe if I get ambitious I’ll continue it to include our house renovation adventure.

The background information:  We are on a “surprise” trip to India to visit Gaurav’s family.  By surprise I mean that no one in India knows we are coming.  This is a bit scary, because for all we know they could be on vacation this week!  This trip is extra exciting because Gaurav hasn’t been home in a handful of years.  His family knows we are planning a trip in November, but we decided to come as soon as Gaurav got his green card.  (Side story…when Gaurav got his green card, I actually didn’t have a passport.  Thankfully that only takes about 3 weeks to get, and the Indian Visa only takes 24-48 hours.)

**Another announcement.  I’m finally posting this on Sunday morning (India time), this has been written in bits and pieces up until now, so I will switch between past and present tense a bunch, as it depended when I wrote it.****

As I’m starting this I’m riding in a very tiny car with 4 full size suitcases, 1 carry on, and two personal items….and three people.  Think Chevy Aveo….

So to backtrack. 

We’ve spend the past 2-3 weeks trying to pretend that we are gathering a list of things that Gaurav’s Mom/Dad/Brother/Sister In Law might want when we come in November.  But really it’s for this trip.  We figured we’d try to bring as much as we can this time because we’ll have more room in the suitcases.  So we’ve been running around trying to buy everything we need.  Around 3pm on the day of departure, we started throwing things in suitcases, packing for ourselves last, and ran out the door.  Surprisingly we managed to do this without fighting. Win for us.

We probably spent 5 minutes of this packing adventure going:
Lucy: “Watch me, I am putting my passport right here in my bag, watch me do it”|
Gaurav: “Did you zip it up?”
Or-
Gaurav: “Check my passport, I checked twice, but can you check and make sure it isn’t expired”
Lucy: “You’re ok for the next 5 years”
Gaurav: “Verify this is my green card…”

To get to the airport Gaurav drove his boss’ SUV home, then we drove back out to his house and he dropped us off at the airport.  It worked nicely.  It was easier than freaking out about a cab driver being an idiot, or trying to wrestle a billion suitcases onto the blue line at rush hour.

The first leg of the trip was a ~15 hour flight to Abu Dhabi.  Everything was pretty standard.  Nice airline.  Nothing really earth shattering happened on this leg.  Except they got us all strapped into the plane, then we saw delayed for an hour.  Lots of crying babies... Gaurav said “My babies won’t cry like this, right?”  I made a mental note that Gaurav is going to need a lot of eye opening moments before we have kids.  He also once said to me when I was holding Kristen + Harish’s newborn “You can’t hold babies with one arm.”   I actually could probably make an entire post about the scary things Gaurav has said about kids.

Now, when we get to Abu Dhabi I did witness my first woman in a full burqa.  That was a first for me. Then I went into the bathroom, nothing really horrifying there except it was a lot dirtier and smellier than I expected for the condition of the rest of the airport.  I think people go to the airport just to go shopping for high end luxury goods. It was like a mall in the airport.  I had very little personal space.  I said to Gaurav “It is so crowded here, I have zero personal space.”  He just laughed and said “Oh boy, wait until you get to India.  Also in the bathroom I did see a woman re-adjusting her head scarf.  Again, I felt like I was seeing something taboo.  I know as a woman I’m allowed to see that, but I’ve never seen a head-scarf-wearing-woman without her scarf on.  There also was a Mosque in the bathroom, it looked like it had a strobe light in it. I really wanted to see what that was about, but I didn’t want to offend anyone..

We then hopped on a 3 hour flight from Abu Dhabi to Delhi.  Nothing spectacular here either….  I suppose it was the first time I had to board the plane from the ground…after we got shuttled out from a bus.  (Correction, I’ve actually boarded a plane from the ground, but it was like a 20 seater…not a real actual normal sized aircraft.)  I suppose they can do this in Abu Dhabi…because its probably always warm and dry.

So…we land…in India.  Me and Gaurav are both convinced the other one of us should be more excited….

We stop at the bathroom again, cleanest public restroom ever.  Really.  Based on the horror stories people tell me to prepare me for india.  This wasn’t expected.  Because it was 3:30 local time, the airport was also pretty empty.  I didn’t expect this either!

So we go to gather our luggage and we can’t find one.  A black suitcase….can’t find it anywhere.  Finally we ask for some help.  About 5 minutes later the lady comes back…with our GREEN suitcase. Lets just say we’ve been traveling for 24 hours and aren’t done yet….

So out we go, first through immigration.  I got through in about 2 minutes….Gaurav surprisingly took longer.  Apparently he needed his old expired passport.  He charmed his way through, but I never expected the non-citizen to get through quicker than the Indian citizen.  Next was through customs…that involved handing a little piece of paper to a guy as we walked out the door.  Gaurav didn’t even turn his in because “no one asked,”  I followed the rules and turned mine in.

Out we go to find Manik.  Manik is one of Gaurav’s outsourced IT guys that he hires to help him on “stuff”  (I don’t really know what Manik’s IT skill set is…)   Manik is the guy that I accuse Gaurav of “chatting with babes” at 2 am in languages I can’t understand.   Manik…Monica…pretty close ay?

So we find Manik, and out we go.  Now… everyone warned me that it would smell different the minute we got out of the airport.  I can fully say.  American Air, and Delhi Air smell pretty similar.  I probably couldn’t pass the test with my eyes closed.  Now…Vince and Neil could I’m sure.  Also, the security personnel at the airport hold large guns, like big scary assault rifle looking guns.  That was a bit alarming.

So, we head out to the Chevy-Aveo type car.  I hop in the back, and realize/remind myself that the steering wheel is on the right side.  This drive is going to be exciting.  We pull out of the airport and I whip out my laptop to get started on recording this adventure.  Gaurav lets out a noise the minute we get on the road…apparently he is going to take some time to get used to driving on the other side of the road too.  (Since the cars are on the opposite side, when they approach you, you are convinced you are going to get hit, because your “instinct” tells you they are in your lane).

So we’re driving along here. 
Semi’s in US: Metal on all 6 sides, secured with latches and locks. 
Semi’s in India: I’m sure there is some metal somewhere, but it appears to be mostly tarps and ropes.  

Lots of honking, staying in your own lane is optional.  
A dude on a bike was riding directly into traffic. 
There are random people hanging out by the side of the road.

As we weren’t too far from the Airport there was a boy trying to sell Chilis in the road.  He probably was 14.  He knocked on the driver’s window, pretty aggressive actually. (Not mean aggressive, motivated aggressive)  Then gave up, as he was walking away he realize I was in the backseat, he made a u-turn and tried to knock on my window. I think this was my first experience being the “white tourist, easy mark”.   And to be honest, I probably could be.  This wasn’t like the drunk-ass smelly bums in Chicago trying to wash your windshield with 10 day old water, in the rain.  This boy was nicely dressed…and Jesus, he was probably 14.

I’m in the back of the car typing away.  I probably should be looking around, taking in the sites.  But part of me thinks I’ll feel safer if I’m NOT looking out the window. 

Gaurav just pointed out a car we drove by, had a bed in the back, and some dude sleeping on it.  You know, like driving down route 80 with someone in the back of your pick-up taking a nap.

I will now make a list of fun things we pass on our car ride:

Two police officers on a small scooter together, armed with a stick.  Only one had a helmet.
Honking..lots of honking…Annoying horns too.  They screech more than they honk
Dudes riding their bikes against traffic.
Dudes riding their bikes with traffic…going 5 times faster than they are…this would be like riding your bike to work on the Kennedy Expressway.
Lots of the trucks don’t have doors.
Busses that don’t  have doors.
Guys on scooters carrying more stuff than I’d try to pack in my Jeep.
A child sleeping on a bed on the side of the road.
Lots of Dogs, gaurav already told me I can’t have one.
A tractor…gaurav pointed that out.  But growing up in a more rural area, this actually wasn’t shocking.
A grandpa doing some yoga or tai chi on the side of the road.
An overcrowded bus letting patrons off on the highway.  The patrons then slowly walk across said highway.
Scooters carrying 2 people are common, scooters carrying an entire family of 4 are also common.
Often only the person on the front of the scooter has a helmet on, if anyone does.

I also played a game with myself called “House - or not.” That was sort of an eye opening, and slightly depressing game.  I think food stamps and section 8 housing have my full respect.

--At this point I ran out of battery and passed out.—

Yes, there are cows on the side of the road.  Yes, there are oxen pulling carts down the road with the rest of the bikes, cars, tuk tuks, bike rikshaws.

Yes, there is a lot of garbage on the side of the road.

Despite what everyone warned me about…I don’t find it to “smell” here at all.

I wake up, and we’re in an area that looks much nicer than when we left Delhi.  Now, that doesn’t mean there aren’t cows meandering around, or dung piles hanging out, or garbage strewn about.  But visibly nicer….

We first stop off at Manik’s house.  His wife was incredibly friendly, she offered me some water, which I knew I couldn’t drink, so I just let it sit there.  She also made us some tea, and some freaking delicious food-item.  (Don’t ask me what it was, ask Gaurav).  They were so nice!  I passed out on their sofa for a little while.  Finally, it was time to head over to Gaurav’s parent’s house.   It was probably a 20 minute drive.

So…although Chandigarh is nicer than Delhi…its still…well…India.  Everyone keeps asking how it is…all I can say is “different.”  Its not really shocking or anything, just completely different.  So we pull into his parents neighborhood, its gated, we had to sign a visitor book.  All of a sudden you’re in any nice town-house neighborhood in florida.  (Maybe more Arizona, there is no grass)  No rubble, no dusy road sides.

I’ll get to the surprise part next.  I’m “going to the lake” now, to presumably get eaten alive by mosquitoes.