Why is Mike always making me travel ridiculous distances just to hang out with him? Let the 20 hours of flying (not including layovers) be a testament to just how far I'm willing to go!
See that lovely pink condo? That's home. And it's called "The Embassy", can you believe Mike didn't both to blog about that? It's actually massive, like a whole city block with really lush green grass, plants and trees throughout the courtyard. We have a yoga class every morning and veggie market twice a week just for the building. Outside its more like the other photo. If it were more socially acceptable I'd wear galoshes and a surgical mask as a prophylactic for pollution, red paan spit, dog poo and garbage:). A few more days and I won't even notice. I'll just smell the indescribable perfume of sweat, lime pickle, smoke and rose incense.
I'm discovering
that being a personal chef sounds far less glamorous to Indians that it does at home. "Oh, you are a house wife?" Me: "No, I cook in other people's homes" The only logical conclusion after that is that I'm a servant. It's all very confusing. Mike also didn't mention that we have a 21 year old boy who lives in our apartment named Sagar (Anil got the boot) who makes our bed, washes the dishes, does the laundry and cleans. It's actually only weird in juxtaposition to the state of our apartment which is great for India but not something I would agree to pay money for in the US. And yet we have a house boy, like everyone in this building. It's just like that here.
Have you heard of eyebrow threading? It's starting to make it's way out of India. The other ends of those strings are in the stylists mouth. With a quick bob of the head she's ripping out your eyebrow hairs in some esthetically pleasing shape. It's not as painful as it sounds and makes for a fun afternoon adventure. Basically leaving the apartment is an adventure.
- S. Mangosteen
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