The trip is winding down and this may well be my last post from India.  Yesterday I worked an 11-1/2 hour day after being sick the day before, and today might not be any more leisurely.  

I met another Yankee in the hotel; a guy named Don from LA.  He works for Haas, a company that makes CNC machines.  I was about to get on the elevator, and he was dressed in what I could only describe as elevator repair man clothes.  So I asked him if he was "the elevator guy" and he said yes.  We chatted on the way up until I realized that he was not the repair man, but another guest.  He is also here to train his counterparts here.  He has been holed up in the hotel for nearly two weeks and hasn't really been out except a two hour tour by car.  We're meeting at 6:30AM  to walk the neighborhood and see the Osho compound.

If you don't hear from me for a while, I'm on a plane, returning to the land of suburbia and big cars.

Luck runs out

I have been careful about hygiene since arriving in India, but evidently I slipped up somewhere (I have a hypothesis) because  I woke up at 3AM with diarrhea.  I got out my various instructions from the University of Michigan travel clinic and read the directions for treating traveller's diarrhea.  I immediately took some antibiotics and Immodium AD.   I haven't felt feverish (just tired) or had any serious symptoms.  No further episodes in several hours.  

I had to cancel today's training, but fortunately Dick Vile should be able to do some training in his area of expertise in my absence (Dick normally gets to work at 4AM, so he overlaps with the Indian work day for most of the afternoon).

I'm still awaiting the next gastrointestinal event to decide whether I feel up to showing my face in the office at all today.  Maybe better to just cool my heels.

I think the hygienic lapse was at lunch yesterday.  Before lunch, I was engrossed in the training I was doing and completely lost track of time.  Around 1:15, Manish interrupted me and told me that people were waiting for me and we needed to stop our session and get going (in Hindi: chalo!).  Most of our lunches have been at the canteen in the building.  Basic cafeteria-style Indian fare.  Manish hadn't told me that there was a restaurant meal in my honor.   Anyway, I think my lapse was that in my confusion and haste, I didn't visit the restroom to wash before the meal.  Indian food is eaten with your hands by tearing pieces from a flat bread and wrapping that around a curry or whatever the main dish is, then putting it in your mouth.  There's an Ethiopian restaurant (Blue Nile) in Ann Arbor where you eat in a similar style.  I used my fork and spoon for the first many days here before I got brave (foolish?) and used my fingers (but no licking!).  

Perhaps it's back to fork and spoon for me for my remaining days (only 3 more).  Better to be conservative and have an unencumbered flight back on Friday.

I've never been one to chronicle my life, so blogging isn't natural for me.  When I first arrived, I was in shock and holed up in my hotel, I had a lot of time on my hands.  Now that I only have 5 days left, I'm not so eager to sit in front of the keyboard when I could be out seeing new things.

Actually, since I am here for work, I expect most of my remaining time to be in the office.  I've typcially been leaving the hotel around 9AM and returning close to 8PM.  Too shagged (can I use that word?) to do very much.

My brother Brian's wife Meher's is from Pune.  Her parents live only 2 blocks from my hotel.  So some evening this week I hope to visit with them.  Brian was concerened that they would feel obligated to entertain me, so he didn't want me to disturb them, but Meher thinks it's OK.  I planned to drop in for a very brief (1/2 hour) visit, but last night Meher suggested I let them take me to the "Turf Club" a clug with horses, stables, etc for well-to-do Indians.  It's starting to sound like maybe Brian was right.

Saturday I toured all day with two colleagues here - Sriram and Manish.  Sriram is another programmer and Manish is his manager.   First we visited Karla caves.  Caves dug into the mountains 2200 years ago.  The caves have an arched roof supported by teak arched support beams.  The sign there said that the wooden beams were original.  2200 years old.  Truly amazing what they were able to build, and that it could last so long.   The link above has good pictures of some of the relief sculpture.  Few of my pix turned out.

Next we stopped along the roadside in Khandala.  There is a scenic overlook into a valley/canyon.   Not so much to see during the dry season, but they tell me that it's covered in waterfalls during monsoon season.  There were monkeys in the park, including a mother with baby.  My camera failed me again and I only got one good shot.

We had lunch at a nice roadside restaurant before returning to the city for shopping.  We went to the Laxmi Rd district, which has many clothing stores.    I can't disclose what was acquired there since certain eyes may be reading this blog.

Time is up for blogging today.  Time to head out for a run.

Time to fill in the gap some between the last two posts.  My walk from the hotel in Mumbai to the ATM three block away was, I guess, my first real experience of culture shock.  Anywhere.  I've been to the UK and Iceland.   There  was some culture shock in the UK (back in early 90's).  But they speak the same language.  They drive on the other side of the road, but our customs are derived from theirs and we're just not all that different.  In Iceland, I couldn't understand most of the people I encountered, but they looked a lot like me, and I could sort of blend in and pass.  More different than UK, but nothing scary.

The walk to the ATM was a different story.    Passing the shanty town along the way, I encountered stray dogs, public defecation, a fourish year old boy who followed me, begging, for several blocks along a busy road, dirty rubble-strewn streets, noise pollution, ground pollution, air pollution.  I could go on.   I don't think I knew what culture shock was.  

Today, only one week later, what shocks me as much, is that I don't feel as shocked.  Culture shock is about what is "normal".  India has a different normal.  After a while, you stop noticing and get up in the morning and go to work - in an office, not that different from the one back home, with colleagues that have families, etc.  Not to say that I want to ignore the poverty.  But it becomes normal, and if you're not careful, you stop noticing.

This morning I got up and left the comfy confines of the hotel to go for a walk.  One of my colleagues said that this hotel was in a posh district, and seeing so many poor people outside the hotel, I couldn't understand that.  But I saw how the other half lives on my walk.  The district is called Koregaon Park.  It's where Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh's meditation retreat compound (Osho) is.  I didn't see that today -  I didn't have my bearings and missed it.  I'll walk by tomorrow, perhaps.  Many gated wealthy homes.  5-10 cars parked in the driveway of one, for example.  Beautiful, fragrent flowers.  I think I could actually manage to get out for a run there.  Maybe soon.  TTFN.

India

It's my first post from India.  I've been putting pix on Facebook and microblogging there.  Maybe I'll try to use this forum to write something more expository.  For Miss Calhoun.  

Here's some of what's happened so far:

Flew into Mumbai on Saturday in business class (Delta).  Never flew BC before, and I probably wouldn't shell out the extra $$ of my own, but it certainly was nice accomodations.  I had my own "pod".  It had a chair that could recline all the way to horizontal.  Champagne, food whenever, etc.  No alcohol for me.  Also skipped dinner and tried to sleep right away and managed to get 6 hrs on the plane.  Yay!     Had my own boob tube and watched quite a bit of HBO series I don't get at home.  Big Love is excellent.  Tempted to get HBO at home for that.  Also watched some Entourage.

I was forewarned about "running the gauntlet" when getting out of the airport.  After flight you go through customs, baggage claim, etc.  All that was a breeze.  When you walk out of the airport there is a boardwalk with railings on both sides, behind which 100s of Indians are waiting to either take you to your hotel, or try to scam you out of a few bucks (by offering to carry your bags and then demand $5-10 to give them back to you).  Nothing like that happened to me.  There was a placard with my name misspelled (Stuart Dawnoing) I found them, they took me to the hotel car, and 10 minutes later I was in a luxury hotel.  So the gauntlet turned out to be no problem.

Hotel was nice.  Each floor theme decorated.  Mine was rainforest.  Others were ocean, fire, etc.   Got wireless net up ($2/half hr) and e-mailed home, Skyped Crash, Jeanne and Eric in San Francisco.  Stayed up until 2AM India time (4:30PM EDT) and managed to sleep another 6 hours.  No big jet lag problems yet.

Had complimentary hotel breakfast (Indian food) and read the paper.  I chose not to exchange dollars to rupees at the airport or hotel because of the 10% cut, but that probably would have been worth it.  I was about to get my first taste of real India and dose of culture shock.  I decided to walk 3 blocks to the nearest ATM to get cash.  

More on that in my next post.