Day Three

Woke up immediately feeling the ominous onset of Tummy Lurgy. After a brief moment of communing with the nice cool tile floor (always makes me feel better), I revived and managed to choke down some suprisingly tasty honey corn flakes and yet another pomegranate. I pulled myself together and took a walk down the street.

School kids gathering for their rickety blue school buses, endless rows of vegetable sellers filling the air with cilantro, rickshaws honking at everything (the air.) Men gathered in packs around the morning chai seler, arms around each others shoulders, poring over the times of India. India is olfactory curious: one moment you smell gorgeous jasmine scented air, the next, a nice hit of steaming shit. It's almost enjoyable.

A dog was startled by my blondeness and chased me, barking, down the street. I managed to shake him behind a cow.

I returned to the villa and sat on the stoop for a while with Bimbo, the dog. We looked at the same things and scratched each other at roughly the same times. I suppose we had an understanding.

We left at 10:30 for orientation, meeting Adam, Claire and Pipa outside the Katari Villa. We then drove over to Asha's house, which was very nice indeed, full of various items from her and her husbands world travels - it reminded me favorably of my grandparents house. Asha was out sorting up I to I's current troubles in Darjeeling, so her friend Meena did the orientation - getting to know you business mostly. We discussed various dangers of hygiene and Indian men, and then my Tummy Lurgy returned, ferociously. I retrated to their nicely turned out bathroom and laid down on the floor and tried not to die again. Miracously, I recovered.

We were invited to a South Indian wedding next weekend. I must go. I even have a shalwar kemiz, so I will blend in........well, probably not.

We went to lunch at a incredibly outdated but fancy hotel - it fairly reeked of the Raj. Wooden walls, lots of carpeting, tastefully illuminated bottles of whiskey and Bombay Sapphir. We made somewhat awkward small talk and waited for the other volunteers to arrive, which they did. After a very English Mandatory Soup Course, we went through the buffet, which was passable - I did have a bit of mutton and some fruit salad. I wasn't exactly hungry.

In lieu of anything better to do, we returned to Commercial Street. I walked into FabIndia, an upscale chorta shop, but I was swimming in all their lovely multi-colored wares....maybe I will visit a tailor. We stopped for an overpriced water at Le Rock, an Indian intepretation of a glam rock and roll bar, then went to a coffe place instead - I did have a nice cup of Darjeeling. (Too bad I felt like an animate case of jet lag.)

Everyone else went into the mall, but I, exhausted, parked myself outside and watched the endless parade of saris and screeching autorickshaws go by. Not suprisingly, an Indian guy walked over and inquired about my health: "You look drunk. Are you well?"

Thanks man, I'm not drunk, I'm just..jet lagged. He claimed to be a fighter pilot (I bet!) but also noted he works at the Amazon.com call center here in his, uh, spare time. I imagine you may have had a convrsation with him before. He asked me a few questions about California til' the othes came over, then high tailed it.

We went for dinner at Coconut Grove, an excellent South Indian restaurant, all ambient and outdoors and covered in drooping palms. I wanted everything on the menu, but we managed to decide on masala crab curry, coconut milk fish curry, and tamarind chili fish. The food was killer, served on big waxy banana leaves. The crab curry was spicy and rich and messy as hell - perfect - and the fish curries were both flavorful, generously portioned, and interesting. I must return.