Tractor in the rain

It’s a pretty sweet feeling when a woman at the store doesn’t believe you have only been in the country for 5 days but thinks you have already spent 2 years here!  It warmed my heart.  And that was necessary since we are having difficulties securing a place to live.  I am not sure I understand the meaning of “negotiating” when the original asking price keeps increasing.  And we are not getting much love from HQ on the other side of the ocean.  Something’s got to give.  Fingers crossed.

I am getting fat.  The hotel keeps feeding us.  They understand we are not interested in their fancy Italian fare and would rather have anything Indian, though we know it’s Indian for Western tastebuds.  Never mind, bring it on, it’s yummy!  And hospitality is such in this country that if the chef remembers you like non fat fluffy omelets, they will have one delivered to your table every day! Want to have fun?  Order masala tea two days in a row and switch to Darjeeling tea on the third.  They will be so confused!  I don’t even waste time looking at the menu anymore, I simply ask them to choose for me.  I may very well be getting what’s left in the kitchen, but I don’t care.  Actually, that can’t be true because jet lag is getting the best of me this time, and I am in bed snoozing by 8:30pm.  They are also teaching me about fruit.  They have a variety of fruits I had never seen nor tasted before.  I tried tamarind this morning.  I am not a big fan.

It’s raining.  A constant drizzle interrupted by heavy rains.  It makes for traffic jams even worse than usual.  Los Angeles has nothing on Bangalore.  But it’s way more fun here because: 1- we have a driver, and yes, he’s an excellent driver (admit it, you read that in your mind in the voice of Dustin Hoffman!), 2- you get to share the road with cows, tuk tuks and tractors.

Tractor in the rain

Tractor in the rain

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