Rain, Thali, and Apartments

One day on the way to Malleshawaram, the conductor is laughing as I tell a passenger, "Excuse me that seat is for the conductor." I would blow a whistle if I had one to be even funnier.

“That is his seat" and I am pointing at him. I am shouting in my cartoon like voice and half the bus is laughing. The driver is laughing hysterically and I think a girl was recording me secretly.

I said, “Don’t worry I won’t let anyone take your seat.” The one seat in the front is for the person who takes the money-the bus assistant. I learned this on my own when I tried to sit there a couple times.

All locals know the rules, but there were exceptions and there were just ignorant people. One lady was shouting at me one time that I could not sit there and the conductor said, “Don’t worry, it’s fine.” She went on and on and on for the whole bus ride when it was clear the driver was helping me figure out what stop to get off on-ridiculous s or the whole bus ride when it was clear the driver was helping me figure out what stop to get off on-ridiculous some women on the bus...ridiculous.

In India, the female passengers ride for free with their government ID card and the males have to pay… 

Would this would ever be in allowed in the USA or Europe? I would say….. Never 

 

Another day, I paid him 25 rupees and I was looking for 5 rupees change. I said,  “Ok Ok wait wait.” I am searching through these coins that never seem to go away from Georgia and Armenia. He takes a coin from my hand and he examines it-he was so interested in this coin.  

I said, “Ah ha I found the 5 rupees.”  

He looks at the coin the same way as the other one.” We were laughing.  

You can’t identify your own currency, that is a rupee sir. 5 rupees change. He nods his head, “Ok , ok yeah.” 

 

“Can I have a special coin?”  

Since I do not value holding on too old currency especially when traveling for months. 

I say, “Oh yes you can and hand him a few coins.” He is happy as can be with a couple dollars in change.  

Making these serious bus conductors smile totally makes my day.   ome women on the bus...ridiculous.

In India, the female passengers ride for free with their government ID card and the males have to pay… 

Would this would ever be in allowed in the USA or Europe? I would say….. Never 

So now for the exciting stuff, I stopped in Malleshwaram for a North Indian thali meal(small compartments of food with rice and roti).  I just usually go to where I see the most people, which I did not really hit the mark on this one. The guy starts slopping all the stuff in the cups and I tell him, “I want to take a photo.” He takes so much time making sure each compartment is clean and perfectly filled and puts the last touches on it like a chef.  

I sat next to two men at a small table because there was no space. I just went to the dentist and I could still only eat food on one side and had to be really careful. The roti was not as soft as it could have been so I just took small pieces and ate some with a fork. The Indian guy across from me was trying to keep his patience while watching me eat…he kept staring at me using the fork and said,   “Take the roti and dip it inside the curry- just use your hands.” lol 

I was really trying, but I could not keep up with the Indian standards right now… I went back and got a couple of refills of Paneer, “Yes madam.” Enjoy madam. " 

I got a message that a guy from an apartment was available to show me a one month room, but I had limited time to go see it. I hopped on an e bike to go to Koramangala and I looked at the sky. I knew this was the day to bring my rain coat and instead I just had my umbrella. It begins to pour and the driver pulls over to put his black rain coat on. I put my umbrella up and we start riding I guess I forgot they don’t work when you are driving fast. The umbrella opens up with spokes all coming out and then the wind would close it and this continued between major intersections and traffic. 

When it comes to riding a motorbike in the rain, I would normally be scared about the bike slipping, but with Indians….they are experts with bikes. Some of them have rain jackets and most of them are just getting soaked and navigating through the traffic like rockstars. 

I had my Google maps on because the driver did not know how to get there and when we were stopped the bike behind us said, “It is the next street to your left past the gas station.”  

It was pouring rain and these guys were giving directions and making jokes asking what the American expression is for it’s raining.  

The guy said, “Isn’t it like they say Dogs are raining.” 

I said, “It’s raining cats and dogs.”  

He said, “Yess, it’s raining a cat and dog” with a heavy Indian accent.”  

Only in India….the innocence is just the cutest.  

In the meantime, everyone is looking at my broken umbrella and I also have my lace cover up on top of my head so I don’t get head lice sharing the public helmet. They can handle the rain much better obviously bc no one looked as dumb as I did.  

We finally get to the destination and I meet another happy, friendly Indian-sales manager for a building. He is also from North India-bengal region and he is just so happy and full of life with a slight belly, which I love and the Crocks shoes.  

Another place that just doesn’t meet my expectations. I thought to myself, “This is just hopeless.”  

He was super friendly, jolly, with a belly (these are the Indians that melt my heart).  

He said, “Well if you don’t like this one, I have another one you might like.”  

We hopped on his Royal Enfield and drove to a brand new building that was pretty nice, but it was full of college students…not really my scene.  The locations is good, but I don’t know how to tell him nicely, “I’m not interested in either of these.”  

It is hard saying “NO” to him. He looks at me with these hopeful eyes and this kind smile. He says that there is only 2 rooms left and they will go very quickly like within the next few hours and I saw his phone going off with messages and calls.  

Apparently, this room was in high demand, but not in my demand.  

We parted ways and I decided to walk around the area where there were many signs. I saw this building that said, “Luxury apartments” and I could immediately see that this was my place. It was a PG, but it just looked like a luxury apartment building with only females and serving 3 meals of food per day.  

 A kind lady came out from the door wearing a longer pajama. She was his wife and she had her little 3 year old come out- the cutest child ever… They were from North India and her, her husband, and two children lived there. She had her 2 month old baby with her and she showed me a sample room and all the amenities, but then ended with “there are not any vacant rooms at the moment.”  

She calls to the other property and they have space, but it is 30 minutes away from the prime location and it is not THIS building with THIS lady and these adorable kids. I just liked the whole vibe there, the 8 floors, the rooftop AND the North Indian food only-ughhhh  

She invites me to sit and have dinner with her and she eats a few bites and attends to the baby. I tell her that I will check out the other location the next day and I will let her know( I never got a room there, but we kept in touch and she moved back to North India where she invited me a few times.  

I consider her my new friend and good friend-how friendships form in the most unexpected and beautiful ways in India.   

After this lovely exchange, it is 6pm rush hour and madness begins….most of the time I love India and all the noise and craziness and sometimes it is just way too much. There were rats, a biker ran into me and hit my leg, all kind of weird/strange scenarios happening. I thought to myself, “Do I really want to live in this area?” It was like some full moon or after midnight scenario. I could not find the bus stop and I caught the bus from the corner of madness and 5th just in time.  

When the bus is really full, everyone just pushes their way on and you get caught in the middle or you luckily get a seat.  I was pretty much caught on the bottom stairs just barely making it on.  I was holding on as people kept pushing trying to get inside.  

The traffic was insane and we were a million people on a bus, bikes crowding the streets, and we were not moving. People would get off and on and I would climb up to let them through. I get to the bus station and again-it is that crazy dash for the 276 bus. Yes one bus to another bus…readers are questioning my sanity I am sure especially when Ubers are cheap, but taking them every day is not something I choose to do.  

The driver is so friendly as I step on out of breathe and smiling. The conductor starts some conversation with me and says he would like to visit USA. Sometimes people take a genuine, kind interest and want to ask questions and usually I answer, but sometimes I just want to chill.  

I met Krishna -a lawyer at the bus stop. He actually reminded me of the guy who showed me the three places- it could be his son! He had the belly and the cute colored socks and the white shirt. These people will always attract me to smile and talk with them. Krishna gives me his card and says he will help me find some nice flat. He knows many people. Now if this was California – you would hear these statements and get no response 90 percent of the time. This was not the case here- if people said they were going to help that meant they were going to try and help you.  

He kept in touch throughout the day and wishes me good morning-all kindness of the Indian’s heart.  

A totally mad day, but that is what India can be sometimes a chaotic and wild place with rain, traffic, and angels sent to make your day better.