Last Weekend in Pune: Part II: Sunday, August 29, 2010

I woke relatively early this morning – well before my alarm at least – and decided to head over to the Chetak to use the high-speed wi-fi. Out on the street pockets of puddles gave evidence to a night of rainfall; it seems the monsoon is back. The street is fairly quiet on Sunday mornings, especially before Pune Central is open. There were several families out walking, a group of older women gathered at the gate of the Hare Krishna temple wrapped in their red and white sari’s and a single motorcycle speeding down the street that was transporting a tall bamboo ladder. When I arrived at the Chetak I ran into Debbie from NYC who said the wi-fi was spotty that morning. We tried for about half an hour to connect to the internet to no success. The clerk claimed it had something to do with the rain, so Deb and I decided to take a trip down to Laxmi Road instead and find a shop that sells fabric – a dangerous venture for me. I ran home to put away my computer and grab a snack and see if Kathy wanted to come as well. Kathy and I grabbed a rickshaw then rode over to the Chetak to retrieve Deb. The rickshaw driver pulled up into the driveway to provide front door service and then we were off to Laxmi Road. Deb told the driver she was in search of a place called High Fashion.
” Acha – fashion, Laxmi Market” he smiled and wobbled his head.
“Great! He knows where it is!” Deb exclaimed. The driver made a few more turns then pulled up next to a green and yellow gate that blocked Laxmi Market from the road.
“Fashion, fashion,” he gestured at the tables of shoes and clothing aligned for as far as the eye could see. Not the shop we were looking for exactly, but we decided we might as well investigate. We had arrived at an optimal time, vendors were setting up their tables and there were few shoppers. We wandered from stand to stand and each collected a few small items. Eventually we reached the Gandhi fabric shop, my favorite place by far in Pune, where shelves upon shelves are aligned with bolts of fine cottons and silks. I restrained the urge to collect more fabric – I made a trip here earlier in the month and purchased a few yards of this and a few yards of that. We inquired about the High Fashion and learned we were remarkably close. A few minutes later and one road crossing we were there, though the sign read Hy Fashion. I was interested in acquiring a few more Indian-style shirts for my upcoming travels but everything I liked was either too small in the shoulders or too big everywhere else. I think that my head is pretty average-sized yet some of the shirts had a hole for a head that only a dolls head would fit through. I left empty-handed. All this shopping was making me hungry so we ventured over to MG road for lunch, a clean restroom and Dorabjee’s – a western supermarket and travelers delight. Kathy and I ordered fresh lime sodas, she wanted sweet and mine was to be a little sweet/a little salty. Something went wrong between the ordering and the preparation because when they came out they tasted like the Mediterranean. We sent them back and requested that the ingredients be brought individually to the table and we would assemble the drinks on our own. The rest of the meal didn’t really make up for that start- our Nan and parathas were undercooked and the food came out of the kitchen cold. I didn’t expect the same quality or service I accustomed to at the places I frequent around the Institute, but it is a restaurant after all and the tables were full of Indian diners with plates of hot food.

From the restaurant we headed down the street to the Bombay Store which is like an Emporium of fine handicrafts, clothing and souvenirs from around India. And finally to Dorabjee’s which had expanded five-fold since my visit in 2005. I was tempted to indulge in cheeses, chocolates and other imported goods but fortunately I’ll be heading out of Pune in a few days and I didn’t want to be carrying a bunch of food with me. I bought a Ritter Sport (chocolate bar from Germany) and some lip gloss. By the time we were ready to leave the rain was coming down in full force. Upon arriving home I put on my shin-length vinyl rain coat covered in daisies and headed out to buy papayas for the next two days. Mr. Singh asked about where I was from and if I was here to do yoga. We had a pleasant conversation and I told him that next time I come to India I’d do my best to speak to him in Hindi. I’m going to miss Mr. Singh!

The photo is of my fabric dealer at the Gandhi cloth shop.

Last Weekend in Pune: Saturday, August 28, 2010

How quickly the days have peeled away! Last night I had dinner with Nina, Karen A., Karin B. and Kathy at the Ambience Hotel. Nina and K.A. leave this afternoon to start the long journey home. Vivien and so many others leave tomorrow.

Traditionally week four at the Institute is Pranayama which for the most part we have done. Thursday was a double header- Pranayama with Prashant in the morning and Pranayama with him in the evening and what different classes they were! In the morning I struggled to comprehend what he was saying and at best understood ten percent. In the evening he was in rare form- as though performing stand-up at a comedy club, cracking joke after joke as he dispersed guidance on how we should approach our pranayama practice. There was something he said that moved me profoundly but I can no longer remember (I purchased a recording of that class so I can re-listen). At about ten minutes to six, rain started to fall from the sky with high volume and velocity that it created a blanket over any sound that was not rain. While chanting the invocation thunder clapped and the rain fell even harder and faster. The experience was profound and soothing.

Earlier in the afternoon I was agitated by a trip to the Chetak. I needed a change of scene and so I went over there to use wi-fi and have a pot of tea. I stayed until the battery in my laptop was almost completely drained and when I went to settle up the bill there was no one behind the desk. After a minute or two I found one of the employees and no sooner had he sat down than a young man ran up to the desk to ask for change for a one hundred rupee note. When the clerk had none, he asked if I had any. ”No change”, I replied and we all laughed. He left and as I pulled out a note to settle my bill he was already back saying something in Hindi or Marathi. This is common and expected – there is no sense of cue and westerners often interpret this behavior as rude and interruptive. I thought about all of the Indian women I have seen deal with situations like this and I turned to him and asked in a probably too stern voice for him to patiently wait until I had finished settling my account. He stared at me and then turned to the hotel clerk who told him to wait minute.

Brothers and Sisters Appreciation Day Tuesday August 24, 2010

Someone told me that there are over 120 holidays celebrated in India each year or a number close to that. Today was Brothers and Sisters Appreciation Day when the brothers vow to protect their sisters. I had forgotten about the significance of the day after class when I had decided to go to the restaurant at Ambience Hotel for some bhindi masala (okra in a spicy tomato-onion sauce), butter nan bread and a sweet lime soda for dinner. I crowded into the elevator with a group of six or seven and we rode to the fifth floor where the rooftop restaurant is located. I have been to Ambience a handful of times since I have been here but I have never seen it so packed! There was a party of ten, a party of eight and a party of twenty-five or thirty which occupied most of the tables. I found a table off to the side that faced the large party and provided enough light to read my book. What amazed me was that the staff was amazingly efficient with the big parties. Other times I have had to wait ten or fifteen minutes before a server visited the table and often the servers stand in the corner near the cash register waiting for something to happen. At one point all the women in the large party stood up and passed out gifts – little cube-shaped boxes wrapped in blue cellophane. Then everyone started to clap and sing “Happy Birthday to You!” Several people at the large table were sung to but also in the other parties around the restaurant. I ended the evening with a little mango ice cream and returned home satisfied.

Getting Things Done Tuesday, August 24, 2010

During my last visit I mailed a few packages home of gifts, souvenirs and such. It was a relatively straight-forward process. You brought the items you wanted to ship to an area outside the post office where men sat at tables with cloth and sewing needles and turned your pile into a package. Then they would write the address on the top and tie the bundle with a string. It was charming and old-style. I am not sure about other parts of India but at my local post office in Model Colony this practice has fallen away. Instead a man, he calls himself Mr. Rosenthal, who can take care of all of your shipping and packing needs. Mr. Rosenthal also makes and sells handmade stationary and he does not seem to have any competition. I decided to make an inquiry with Mr. Rosenthal to compare with the rate the post office quoted so I called him last night. Our conversation went like this:

Mr. Rosenthal: Hello, namaskar. (His voice is quiet but high-pitched)
Me: Hello Mr. Rosenthal. I have a question about shipping a package to the United States.
Mr. R: Yes. Which country are you?
Me: U.S.A. My question is about shipping but I don’t know yet if I need to send a package.
Mr. R: Which apartment are you?
Me: Mr. Rosenthal I would simply like to ask a question is that all right?
Mr. R: Yes, please.
Me: How much would it cost to send 1 kg to the United States- shipping, packing and all fees included? (Including all the fees, etc. is a crucial point and you have to make sure you get a total quote)
Mr. R: To which country?
Me: U.S.A.
Mr. R: One kg to U.S.A. from India about 400 rupees (a little under $10). Which apartment you?
Me: Four hundred rupees total for one kg with packing and shipping to U.S.A.?
Mr. R: Yes, yes. Four hundred rupees total.
Me: How about 2 kg?
Mr. R: Two kg about 1000 rupees. Excuse me, which apartment you?
Me: Next to the Institute. What about 50 kg (inquiry made for a friend shipping some large items).
Mr. R: Oh, 50 kg! Maximum 20 kg shipping to U.S.A. Which apartment number?
Me: How much is 20 kg then?
Mr. R: Twenty kg about 6500 rupees but I have to check. Which apartment are you?
Me: Can you check tomorrow and let me know the total amount.
Mr. R: Yes. Which apartment number?
Me: Second floor.
Mr. R: Ah second floor, U.S.A. I came the other night and you bought stationary! (He sounded giddy and it was true- I had just bought stationary from him the other night.) I’ll be at your building tomorrow and can come by at 12:00.
Me: It’s no trouble Mr. Rosenthal, you can just call me.
Mr. R: No, no I come by. I check on twenty kg for postage.
Me: Okay Mr. Rosenthal. I’ll see you tomorrow at 12:00. Good-bye.
Mr. R: Yes, good-bye.

Mr. Rosenthal arrived just after noon. My friend with the big package was here to get the details from Mr. Rosenthal. All the prices were as he had quoted last night. I wondered if he thought that if he showed up in person we would not be able to refuse. He suggested that multiple packages be mailed: two at 20 kg and one at 10 kg. A pretty good plan really. We informed him that that was not really going to work for this item.

He seemed disappointed, “No other shipping?”
“I’m afraid not. At least not today Mr. Rosenthal,” I replied.
“Okay. Thank you,” and with that he picked up his bag of stationary and walked put the door.

When I checked at the post office today all the rates I was quoted were much higher than Mr. Rosenthal’s rates. Perhaps there is a sliding scale or some other method of shipping unattainable by foreigners.

Perspective Sunday, August 22, 2010

Sunday is the day off from the Institute: day of rest, which was exactly how I began my day. I remained in bed long after I was awake and considered cancelling my lunch plans because I did not feel like standing up. Eventually I got out of bed, only because I wanted a cup of coffee. Just after noon I met Kerri from L.A. at the end of my drive and we both confessed that neither of us were hungry but we should walk somewhere for a cool drink. Not far down Hari Krishna Mandir Road was a man pushing a cart filled with coconuts and we ran across the street to start our adventure there.

After drinking the coconut water we walked down the street with the Chetak and Ambassador Hotels in search of a place I could print off some documents from my thumb drive. No job is ever quick or simple. After the young boy booted up the computer and put my thumb drive in, he clicked on every icon on the screen and hit refresh several times. Eventually the right combination of things worked and the documents appeared. I indicated which ones I needed printed but there was a hold-up on the printer end of this task. I suspect that the printer was not plugged in. He shut down the computer, fussed with some cables then turned the machine back on. He started to click all the icons again but I simply pointed to the name of my thumb drive and voila! A few seconds later the printer was working as well. Not a painful or frustrating experience as they sometimes turn out. I realized later that I forgot to print one of my tickets so I’ll probably have to make a return visit.

We continued down the road, I had a place in mind for a refreshing drink and I was starting to get an appetite. We went to Lalit Mahal, a place I frequented during my 2005 trip – I think I went out to eat almost every night that trip, now I just eat Papaya for dinner. We shared some Dahi Idli, fermented rice cakes dunked in spiced yogurt, and vegetable samosas with cilantro/mint chutney. Kerri had her first sweet lime soda and I indulged in a mango lassi. I could hardly believe that Kerri had not yet tried a lime soda and she thanked me for introducing her to so many new things. I thought it was funny because I still consider myself a novice here, especially compared to my flat mate Kathy who has been to India several times and seems comfortable here, but for Kerri I was adventurous in trying different foods. I guess it is all a matter of perspective.

We left Lalit Mahal – I will definitely need to make a few return visits and made our way down Fergusson College Road (FC Road). It was midday by now and the shops were closed so we decided to turn down another road in the direction that we came from and do a little exploring. We passed a huge and very clean temple and some empty lots. As we continued the road became denser with people and the side lanes were packed with houses, the streets filled with children and everyone sitting in shade in search of relief from the heat. My toes were burning. We were entering what felt like a very local area of Model Colony.

I am not sure how it started, but we saw a couple of girls sitting in the back of an auto-rickshaw and they saw our cameras in hand, so we started to take pictures. ‘Mera! Mera!’ ‘Mine! Mine!’ other kids shouted as they made their way in front of the camera in search of a shot. Thank goodness for digital cameras, we pressed the button until most of the children in the area had been photographed. Some adults jumped in as well. Young boys looked straight into the camera, serious. Girls would pick up and hold smaller children for the photo and throw their arms around each other. The older boys waved fingers in the air as though they were auditioning for a Bollywood movie.

We finally came to the end of the street and familiar surroundings. I looked down the street and remembered someone warning me to not walk down that street – I wondered if she too had come across the hundreds of children asking to have a picture taken.

We went to the vegetable market and the Maharashta Store and also to visit Mr. Singh, my papaya supplier, but today I only bought bananas.

Unexpected Visitors and Pune Thursdays August 19, 2010

Thursday in Pune means power cut city-wide. I don’t know why I expected the power to get cut at the same time as last week from 11 to 6 but today it started at 3. Fortunately there is a generator to supply some power to the building I am in. Unfortunately it is a floor below me outside my bedroom window and if the open windows are not properly organized to maximize ventilation otherwise you might suffer asphyxiation by diesel. The rumbling of the generator is probably heard on any floor of the building – I remember hearing it from the fourth floor during my 2005 visit. Hopefully the power will return by class time in a couple of hours so that we can have fans during class to help keep the mosquitoes away.

Last night, about 11 p.m., I was startled by what I initially thought was a car alarm. It would start and stop then after ten minutes there was a strange sound. I crawled out from under my mosquito net to investigate and from my window I could see a dump truck that had just delivered a load of gravel to the yard next door. I was grateful that that they waited until morning to get to work and only a small pile remains though it is not clear what has happened to all that gravel.
The night before last I was summoned from my bed when the doorbell rang around 10:45. It was the mother-in-law and sister-in-law of my landlord at the door. There had been some sort of family emergency that the S-I-L had to tend to so she left the M-I-L here to sleep since my landlord was out of town. When we returned from class yesterday she was gone- I guess it was a one night emergency, a mystery to me!
The asanas that Prashant selected for class this morning were mostly hamstring extensions and standing forward extensions. The other direction from backward extensions however my legs feel wonderfully balanced and I can tell that I have used them.

This afternoon Nina and I went to Pune Central for gift shopping. Although I have been there a handful of times I am still confused by the set-up and I get sucked into the vortex of looking around though I end up making few and small purchases. The titles on the map make no sense to me so we went up and down the escalator and in and out of the elevator several times in search of items. Five of the six levels have clothing for both men and women on each level of varying styles and quality. We discovered that our expectation of where to find an item did not match up with their product placement. Employees outnumbered the customers and most were leaning against the merchandise chatting, some were sitting on the floor. There are registers on each level and though you might shop on multiple levels, you are expected to pay on the floor where you bought the merchandise. At check-out time there was a long line of customers at the lone register. I keep telling myself that I will not go in there again but I will probably have to make a visit or two to the gelateria on the top floor before I leave.

I was going to post a picture of the gravel that was dumped last night (yes, I took a picture of it) but it was boring. Here is a picture of me with Naana's rickshaw instead.

For the Yogi's: Wednesday, August 18, 2010

It’s the time of day when the sounds of the birds returning to the park to settle down for the evening drown out the sounds of horns and construction from the street below. There was a brief resurgence of the monsoon yesterday and today but the clouds have left and a cool breeze fills the apartment.

My health has been fluctuating the last few days but my strength has returned and I survived most of this morning’s backbend class. Abijata (B.K.S.’s granddaughter) who usually leads the Wednesday class is out of town and class today was mostly instructed by Guruji through at least five assistants. Much of the focus in class over the past 2 weeks has been on the various parts of the foot and the actions that take place there. A good deal of class is done without the use of any props at all likely due to logistics and the size of the class. Even sitting for invocation we have only a sticky mat.

We began with Adho Mukha Svanasana to Uttanasana several times to learn the basis of our feet and establish the legs that would carry us through backward extensions. Next in Sirsasana a similar part of the hand was explored and revisited towards the end of class. Urdvha Mukha Svanasana was the first in the series of backward extensions. I felt like I was part of a human puzzle in the prone backbends since several bodies were longer than the mats – tall people had to swap with shorter people to allow for space. Dhanurasana followed U.M.Sv. and we worked on bringing the big toe and the skull closer together. Next came Ustrasana with the knees and feet together- the classical pose and quite intense. After several rounds of Ustrasana we repeated Dhanurasana like Ustrasana with the legs together and taking the metatarsals up to the ceiling. We finished with Urdvha Dhanurasana and pressed up into the backbend eight times. Around the sixth one my legs began to shake, I could feel I was rapidly approaching the end of my energy. Ten minutes before class was to end the thick mats came out. This is often the most frustrating part of the class and it often more chaotic than the streets outside. We use the thick mats in Sarvangasana and have been using them in Sirsasana as well. Three people fit on one mat: one goes to get the thick mats, another holds the spot with the sticky mat, and the third gets any other props needed. Kathy got the thick mats and no sooner did I place my sticky mat on top was it pushed to the side. I tried to retrieve my spot and I shoved sideways. I wasn’t going to stand there and argue – that would be fruitless. I picked up my mat and found an empty spot for Sarvangasana and Savasana to finish the class in peace.

During afternoon practice the hall was visited by a couple dozen young Indian men outfitted in blue and yellow tracksuits with YOGA written on the back. They looked around at the room, the pictures of Guruji that cover the walls and they watched us practice. Some took pictures with their cell phones.

Post-practice I decided to finally do a little shopping and headed to the Maharashta Store and the fruit kiosk across the street where I could get most of the items I needed for the next few days. Traffic was thick and endless and it took about ten minutes to cross to the other side of the road but it was well worth it for the papayas. I then had to cross back to get home. I guess 6:00 is peak commute time just about anywhere you are!

Another Week Gone By: Friday, August 13, 2010

It's hard to believe that tomorrow is Saturday and the end of the second week! I intended to write earlier but somehow the days escaped me. The week started off hot and humid with very little rain but now there is a cool breeze and it rained earlier this morning.

Tuesday night I got walloped on the skull (by another skull) during another full class. We were all supine and the man behind me did not turn around to see if he had clearance as be came back at full speed. Other than the pounding head that followed I was fine physically but I felt I needed some space. Wednesday and Thursday I stayed out of the hall during practice time and instead practiced in my room, napped and went out to breakfast one morning with Vivian. It was refreshing to retreat from the masses and chaos that can take over when you are practicing along side eighty others. This morning I returned to the hall for practice and enjoyed a luxurious two and a half hour practice of inversions and forward bends.

My schedule is great and I am in a routine. Monday and Thursday I have class from 7 to 9 a.m. then practice from 9 a.m. to noon. Tuesday, Thursday and Friday I have class from 6 to 8 p.m. with a 9 to noon practice time (double class on Thursday!). Wednesday and Saturday I have class from 9:30 to 11:30 a.m. and practice from 4 to 5:45 p.m. During non-class time I run errands and try to keep the shopping to a minimum during weekdays and stay in the neighborhood. I have quite a few things to keep up with on the computer between the blog and putting the final touches on my medical school applications. I am also doing some data work for PSU. The wi-fi in the apartment is operational now but on occasion I go to the Chetak to enjoy a sweet lime soda or masala chai in the open air lobby. Around midday I take a rest or indulge in a book.I am close to finishing book number 3 and I am enjoying reading with leisure- there are many books to chose from off of the bookcase in the apartment.

Kathy and I couldn't get it together and to buy vegetables every few days for Sima, the woman who cooks for Sanjeev, so we changed cooks and now have a tiffin delivered weekdays around noon filled with all sorts of Ayurvedic delights. Today we had a pumpkin curry, yum. No vegetable shopping required!

The picture is of Vivian, my flatmate and the spectacular Indian snack - Masala Dosa.

Gearing up for Week 2: Monday, August 9, 2010

This week is supposed to be a hot one and I am preparing myself mentally and physically for the shift. The first week of classes passed by quickly and for the most part I am feeling settled here and in a routine. Four of my weekly classes are with Prashant, the son of B.K.S. Iyengar and three are with Abi (B.K.S.’s granddaughter) or one of the Indian assistants. It feels different without Geeta in the hall. The schedule has shifted somewhat. In 2005 there were two assigned practice times per day except Saturday and we all now have the same practice schedule so the hall is crowded. Guruji (B.K.S.) is in the hall to practice during the morning practice sessions and instructs Abi from headstand, viparita dandasana or some other posture.

Guruji also practices as Abi teaches the Wednesday and Saturday classes for ladies and he often calls her over to teach her something and then has her return to the stage to teach us. He is insistent on the language, often repeating exactly what he wants her to say: no room for creativity or interpretation. It’s a sort of live-action teacher training that we are part of.

I ended the week with a couple of extravagant shopping expeditions. On Saturday roommate Kathy and I started the afternoon at Little Italy, a restaurant around the corner from the Institute where you can order a pizza for $5. We then took a rickshaw to the other side of town so I could find some travel-appropriate clothing and a few gifts and saw an elephant in traffic. Sunday I joined Karin Brown and Care Parker for a decadent buffet breakfast at a hotel. There was a mix of offerings of Indian and Continental menus, fresh fruit and dark coffee. I enjoyed some upma and idli. Idli is a south Indian fermented rice cake that is steamed, Upma is a semolina cake. Both are served with chili, pepper, sambar and coconut curry. I forgot to take pictures of my breakfast but I will remember to next time to give a visual. After breakfast we went all over town to shop- this time primarily for gifts. We had planned to visit a few temples but everything takes a little longer to plan so next time some sight-seeing will be included. After five hours we had had enough and returned home to rest.
I better sign off here and go to the hall to practice and see what is in store for this week.

Monsoon Days and Monsoon Nights: Wednesday August 4, 2010

Today was the first in several days that there has been a break from the monsoon. It has been strong since my arrival last week and was late to start this year. The rain fluctuates between torrential downpour and a blanket of sprinkles and if it is a heavy rain at night then it drowns out the sounds of the street that drift in through my bedroom window.

My apartment is next door to the Institute so I do not have too far to go when it is raining hard. It is also backed up against a large park and none of the windows in my room face the street which has become highly utilized since a large mall sprung up on the corner. There used to be a no-horn sign posted on the street outside the Institute of which I took a picture in 2005. I haven’t checked thoroughly to see if it is still there but I expect it to be deeply faded and apparently ignored. During class Monday morning it was difficult to hear Prashant’s words over the blast of horns from the street below.

I have started to make sense of when the horn is utilized, these are what I have complied so far:
• To signal that you are going to be passed
• To signal that you are passing
• To signal that you have just passed someone
• To signal to the car ahead to get out of the way
• To signal the car ahead to go faster
• To assume right of way
• To signal a left turn
• To signal a right turn
• To signal that you are going straight
• To see if you want an auto-rickshaw to take you there
• To signal you are entering the street
• To signal you are pulling over
• To get a dog/goat/ cow to move out of the road
• To announce your presence

There may certainly be more reasons than this.

I had a funny experience this evening. I decided to visit the giant mall on the corner to buy some water and look around to see if they sold any items that would be suitable in case I experienced extreme homesickness. The building is six stories high and the first five floors contain electronics, appliances, shoes, clothing, cosmetics, etc. On the top floor is the supermarket and food court. The escalators are set up in such a way that you have to walk through the entire floor to continue up or down in the same direction. It feels a little like the Ikea showroom minus arrows on the floor but there is a defined path and trying to cut through racks of clothes often leads to a dead end or bottleneck.

For fun I decided to try on a few tee shirts of the yoga clothing label they carry. I selected four items but was informed that I could only take three at a time. The dressing room was a little larger than a phone booth with tiny glass shelves and three hooks on the inside of the door. I had a hunch that it would not be successful as my torso is much longer and shoulders broader than the locals and that I would be better off having things handmade. My hunch was right so I decided not to try on the fourth top that I left with the security guard. This made him a little upset but I explained that it was not the right size and returned it to the piles of shirts from which it came. One of the sales associates took notice and I explained to him too that it was too short. He started digging through the piles and handed me some shirts to try which were marked with a smaller number. He said it was a misprint and I should try it on. At this point I had grown tired Lady Gaga blasting from the speakers and told him I had to leave.

DESTINATION: APARTMENT Sunday August 01, 2010

I’ve arrived at my home for the next month today. Sanjeev, my host is kind and courteous and I am sharing the second floor apartment with Kathy from Australia, Vivian from Malaysia and Sanjeev. He gave me the tour and showed me room and how things work in the apartment. I arrived early so that I could go out for a little shopping but the rain persisted until early afternoon. My first few days in India were both foreign and familiar.

DESTINATION INDIA: ARRIVED Thursday July 29th

After twenty-five hours of air travel on three flights I am in India. Mr. Suhas, the concierge from the hotel I booked surprised me at the customs check and provided a pleasant escort out of the airport. I booked a top-notch five-star hotel in Mumbai, extravagant and plush with its comfortable Western-style mattress and box-spring bed, the combination of anticipation and adrenaline kept me awake most of the night.

Brave the World: Saturday, July 31st, 2010

When I awoke this morning I realized I needed to make a plan to get out of my room and developed an afternoon itinerary. When I arrived in Pune last night I ordered dinner in and read the book I picked up at an airport store in Chicago. I slept surprisingly well considering the cacophony of street sounds: ringing cell phones, horns of all octaves and voices from the street below. Eventually the sounds tapered off and I awoke to silence in the early morning.
I was feeling timid but knew it wouldn’t do me any good to stay in my hotel room so the first stop on my outing was in search of the bank and an umbrella. According to the man at the front desk at the hotel the bank was up three roads on the other side of the street. Three roads seemed a reasonable distance to walk so I set off on foot. Many of the sidewalks along FC road were under repair so I followed the other pedestrians and woke my way down to the street alongside passing buses, auto-rickshaws (like a Tuk-Tuk for those who have been in Thailand), cars and motorbikes all announcing their presence with the toot of the horn. I had forgotten how loud this city can be! The stop at the bank proved futile, they could not exchange Traveler’s Cheques on Saturday because the office they need to call to validate the Cheques is closed. I did find an umbrella, just in time for the next downpour of rain.
Stop two was a beauty parlor for a little pampering with a pedicure. When the rain subsided again I made my way to stop three: lunch, finally and then on to the Institute to register for classes.
I was the first to arrive to register but realized that did not necessarily mean I would be the first to leave. There seemed to be a little more organization than last time and Pandu, the secretary, issued us through with fluctuating efficiency. From some he would accept one form of currency, from others another form. I paid my tuition and returned to the hotel. Exhausted from the outing and the effects of residual jet-lag had me in bed before 8 p.m.!

Departure to the Unknown: Friday, July 30th

Before I left Portland I had asked the hotel to arrange a train ticket to Pune. There were none to be found so I arranged the next best thing: a bus. During my previous visit I also booked a bus and recalled the lush countryside. I left the hotel with enough time to get to the bus stand which is really just a shop on the side of the road where the various bus companies have a storefront for pick-up. Apparently the taxi I had the hotel arrange was not aware of this and he took me to the address on the ticket- the travel agent who sold the ticket to Mr. Suhas. The driver jumped back in the car and managed his way a little further. I was becoming anxious, worried that the bus would for once be at the pick-up point on time. I arrived ten minutes late, but fifty minutes early for the bus. The first hour and a half on the bus was spent sitting in traffic and driving around Mumbai to the other pick-up points until the bus was mostly full. By the time we were out of Mumbai and climbing through the Ghats rain was falling hard.

Making Contact

Greetings! I've finally made it on to my blog. It will be a little barebones and out of order until I have a regular internet connection in my apartment. I am posting what I have written the past few days and hope to hear from you. Jen.