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Published: August 4th 2008
Brad, John, Brenda and I have been here for three weeks now and I think it is safe to say that we've settled in quite nicely. But make no mistake, we still see something new every single day...something that makes us smile, something that makes our jaws drop, something that makes us laugh out loud...and something that reminds us how fortunate we are to live in Canada.
I will never claim that I know what India is all about; I can only say that I've seen a tiny part of this vast country. However, if what I've seen is typical of all of its States, then I would say that India is a remarkable contrast between dirty and clean, ugly and beautiful, sadness and contentment. For sure, beauty abounds. Women wear brilliantly coloured saris in every colour imaginable...fuchsia, lime green, bright sapphire, pure white, sunburst yellow, orange, rich gold, bubblegum pink, chocolate brown. Some are complimented with jewels and matching sandals. Dusty, garbage strewn streets and expressways are lined with bushes bursting with fragrant white frangipani which attract hundreds of butterflies. Trucks are personalized with carefully hand painted pictures, flourishes and signs. Yellow and green motorized rickshaws are adorned with
Colours of India
Richly coloured wool and silk yarn is used to make gorgeous area rugs.fringes and foil streamers that shimmer in the sun. Roadside vendors in the poorest of neighbourhoods sell pyramids of mangoes, piles of ready-to-eat bananas, perfectly stacked corn-on-the-cob, clay and glazed pots, bangles of every hue. It truly is a feast for the senses.
Some of you have asked to see pictures of our living quarters so I've posted some pics to give you an idea of what our place looks like. Although we live in "luxury" by Indian standards, our home is not without its annoyances. The living room has a Phillips TV as does each of our bedrooms; however, the signal is very poor and the audio is muffled at best. We get two American channels...ESPN (ugh!) and STAR TV. "Friends" is on every weeknight at 7:00 and I've watched each episode enough times over the years that I'm not ashamed to admit that I can watch the show without listening to it yet still know exactly what is being said! It comes in handy with these TVs.
My bedroom air conditioner leaks a pool of water on to the floor every time it is turned on and the bottom of the drapes, which rest in the
Colours of India
Beautiful sandstone brick is everywhere. Workers build temporary shelters out of the bricks for their families but then dismantle the shelters to use the brick for their intended purpose. pool of water, have soaked up the water over time and now have a stain on them about 12" in depth! Oops. I pointed out the leak to our maintenance supervisor, Rajendra, several days ago but it still continues to leak. Thankfully Rajendra fixed my leaking geyser above the toilet a few days ago so I've moved the big bucket from my toilet tank to beneath the air conditioner.
I thought my issues in the bathroom were over after my leaking geyser was fixed. Not so. The other day, I pulled the shower curtain back to step in to the shower and was greeted by a pigeon in the window, peaking at me through the screen. He was not the least bit startled by me and, in fact, stretched his neck out curiously and turned his head left, then turned his head right, then left again, then up, then down. He was very curious! I can only hope that he was impressed by what he saw! Alas, my shower was to be taken alone because he flew away shortly after I snapped a picture of him.
While on the topic of showers, I had another rude surprise the
other day. I use a Schick razor to shave in the shower and I kept the razor conveniently on the window ledge along with my shampoo, shaving cream and shaving brush. Groggy eyed, I picked up my razor one morning to begin shaving and was taken aback by what I saw...long black hairs in the blades. Hmmm...last I checked, I don't have black hair. Nor is it long. I actually stood there for about a minute trying to make sense of this. DO I have black hair? After all, it was very early in the morning and I wasn't thinking clearly. Was I seeing things? No, there were clearly long black hairs in my razor...and they weren't mine. How could this be possible? I eventually concluded that one of the young guys who cleans our apartment had used my razor to shave!! You may recall in my last entry that I mentioned the young cleaners live in TINY little quarters next to our apartments. I don't know what they use for bathroom facilities because, based on what I've seen, it seems impossible that there would be a bathroom in the little room that they sleep in. However, it does seem
Colours of India
Trucks are adorned with handpainted signs and flourishes. entirely possible that they use our bathrooms to shower and shave while we are at work. We would never know if it weren't for the carelessness of leaving the evidence.
I mentioned it to John, Brad and Brenda when I emerged from my room that morning and, of course, they too were a little surprised. I had locked up my razor that morning (as I do every morning now!) but that didn't deter the cleaners. John came home from work to find that HIS razor had been used instead!! I might as well share the wealth, John! By the way, I would like to thank my friend Roger for furthering my paranoia..."I wonder if they've been using your toothbrush too?" he asked. AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!
Having to now lock up my razor after using it each morning has become a nuisance. On more than three occasions now, I've forgotten to get my razor out of the locked drawer in my closet before getting in to the shower. Not until I am dripping wet have I remembered that it is still locked up...so out on to the cold marble floor I go, shivering and stomping to my closet
on the other side of the bedroom, careful to step around any pool of water from the air conditioner so as not to wipe out, all the while cursing the cleaners for putting me through this blasted inconvenience. Sheesh...
The shower itself is meagre at best. Water piddles from the showerhead and, if I don’t remember to turn on the geyser in the morning to heat up the water, then I’m having a cold shower.
Oh, and the cat that crapped in the hallway a couple of weeks ago made a return visit the other night. I promptly went downstairs to the security guard on the main floor and told him that the mess had to be cleaned up. He didn't understand a word I said so he summoned a maintenance employee who politely told me, "Yeah, okay, we'll get that in the morning". Gee, don't put yourself out.
So back to my earlier point about our “luxury” accommodations. Yes, they are very nice and I am thankful that we have a nice place to come home to at the end of the day. But I realize that I’ve been spoiled by living in Canada with our
everyday conveniences.
Something else that some of you have asked about is the food. I love Indian food and have enjoyed all of my meals here although something in particular came back to haunt me one Thursday night. I’m not sure what it was but I was fine by morning despite having had a very sleepless night. Each of us has had our bout but I think Brenda has been struck the worst. She was out of commission for about three days. We’ve started throwing in a mix of Canadian food and vegetable-based dishes just to keep us on track. In fact, last night Brenda and Tara made grilled cheese sandwiches. They were the best!!!! Brad is an awesome cook too and makes delicious and inventive meals. I wouldn’t dare cook for everyone. It’s not that I can’t cook…it’s just that I need days of prep time to cook for several people. The others are able to open the fridge and make something up with apparent ease. Having said that though, I could recreate the grilled cheese sandwiches with no problem! Right now, I help out with the dirty dishes and setting the table if required.
We’ve had
pretty good success with restaurants. One memorable restaurant is called Punjabi by Nature http://www.punjabibynature.in/. It is located in the marketplace right next to The Great India Place shopping mall in Noida. The atmosphere is very modern and moody and, more importantly, the food is outstanding. It is definitely worth a trip back, especially for the naan bread, a round flatbread made of white flour. It is especially good with butter or garlic.
Some of you know that I am a dessert freak. I think it is perhaps because, growing up on a busy farm north of London, Mom always had fresh baked cakes and pies and tarts and cookies and muffins and squares on hand for all of our meals. Desserts in India are not quite what I am used to but I do like kheer which is similar to rice pudding (but with a runnier consistency). The canteen at the office serves awesome mango shakes with a dollop of homemade ice cream on top. They are a favourite, especially since mangos are plentiful right now. In The Great India Place shopping mall, I found an Australian-based shop called The Cookie Man! Two bags of those homemade treats have
disappeared quickly! And in the pastry shop in our apartment complex, I bought a Black Forest Cake for Brenda’s 29th (!!) birthday on July 26th. The cake was actually delicious. It also helped that the shop keeper pointed to the pineapple cake which I was originally going to buy and said, “Not fresh.” Then he pointed to the Black Forest Cake and said,
“Fresh”. Yeah, I’ll take the Black Forest Cake, thanks.
The four of us have been putting in long days at the office, sometimes up to 12 hours each day. Our first week and a half was spent finalizing training material with the on-site training developers as well as tying up loose ends in preparation for our training start date. We were fortunate to participate in an afternoon "Canadian Culture" class that our new students attended a couple of weeks ago. Our intent was to quietly sit at the back of the class and listen to the presentation and watch the slide show on Canada that had been prepared for them. It is always interesting to see and hear how others perceive Canada (and I write that knowing full well that I had my OWN misconceptions about
The pool at our apartment
The entire pool is approximately 4' deep which is perfect for me, a non-swimmer. Women with long hair beyond the shoulders must wear a bathing cap. If not, you will have attention drawn to you as security blows a whistle and ask you to get out. India so I know it goes both ways). The slide show depicted pictures of Canada paralyzed by house-deep snow, cars buried (interestingly, one of the cars in the pictures had European license plates...hmmm), and a picture of trees, cars, roads and a brick wall along an ocean, covered in a two inch thick ice (this too was not a picture from Canada because it is a picture I have seen make several rounds on the Internet over the past couple of years...I'm sure you have seen it too). We clarified for the class that Canada can certainly have brief winter storms that wreak havoc on the country, but we also have beautiful warm summers too.
At that point, we were invited to the front of the class for what became an impromptu question and answer period. It was so much fun! They were truly interested in us as Canadians and they were interested in Canada as a country. They asked intelligent questions like, what is the history of Canadian settlement that resulted in so many different cultures being drawn to a metropolis like Toronto and what are some Canadian traditions? And curious questions like what is a typical breakfast
Oops!
Water from my dripping air conditioner has stained the curtains in my bedroom. Regardless, the maintenance guy doesn't seem to be in a hurry to fix the problem. for us and what is a high-school prom?
We began our six weeks of training last Monday (the 28th) and we are very pleased with the first week. Our students, 26 of them, are so eager to learn and are clearly very intelligent. The group is about 75% male and 25% female and I estimate that all are in their early to mid-20s. The dynamics of the group are ultimately not any different than any other group of students. Some of them are very forthcoming; others are reserved and quiet but always polite and with a warm smile which I have learned are characteristic of Indians. They love to enthusiastically shout out answers all at the same time which makes it difficult to hear the answers and also makes it difficult to know who is piggy-backing on someone else's answer. We've asked them to please raise their hand and speak one at a time. That lasts for about two minutes and then the enthusiasm prevails again. They want so desperately to please us and to show us that they are learning. Our challenge is to draw out the ones who are a little quieter to ensure that they are
My bathroom geyser
The tank above the toilet is the geyser (pronounced geezer)...it provides hot water for my shower (when I remember to turn the geyser on!!). on par with the rest of the class.
Brenda and I posted maps of Ontario and Quebec and gathered our class around the maps to give them an appreciation of the geographic territories that they will be dealing with on a daily basis. "How did Ottawa become the capital?" asked one student. "Uhhh...let me get back to you on that one." Yikes! I probably learned that in public school but I certainly don’t remember it now. I will only speak for myself, but I don’t remember key dates and events that shaped Canada to be what it is today, not in detail anyway. Indians, on the other hand, are very proud. They easily recite details about their history and traditions and cities and key events and temples and their people. Very proud indeed.
When we aren’t working, we take time to enjoy ourselves. Brenda, John and I went golfing at the Noida Golf Course a couple of weeks ago. Our driver had not been there and was not aware that we could not drive up to the clubhouse. As we entered the gates and drove by all the young boys patiently waiting to be someone’s caddy, we were
My shower companion
This pigeon greeted me one morning as I was about to step in to the shower. I hope he was impressed by what he saw! suddenly chased by them up the driveway. Are we famous???!!! Are they our paparazzi??!!! Do they think we are Tiger Woods???!! We innocently stepped out of the van as they caught up to us, only to find out that we weren’t supposed to drive in. Instead, parking is outside the gates along the street and the idea is that you pay at the gate and pick out a caddy (or a caddy picks you as was the case with me…poor sucker…he had no idea what he was getting himself in to. A golfer I am not!!).
We went back to the gate and paid our fee. A round of nine holes with clubs and a caddy was 1300 rupees (Rs) each or about $30 CDN. We were known as Mr. Mark, Mr. John and Miss Prenda (that is not a spelling mistake…Brenda became Prenda!). After paying our fee, we walked to the Pro Shop to pick out our clubs. The Pro Shop was actually a cement structure and being inside was like being in the cellar of an old farmhouse…dark and damp. After getting outfitted, we followed our caddies to the first tee.
The very first thing we
noticed was some obvious activity taking place right next to the first hole. Workers were rebuilding one of the holes. Now, you might picture heavy equipment digging and moving dirt, dump trucks bringing in loads of fill and machines laying turf. Not so. In fact, the rebuild was very laborious. One by one, women in colourful saris, carried bowls of dirt on their heads. They would fill the bowl, hoist it on to their head then carry it several feet away and dump it. Over and over. Dirty and hard work. Men also helped but it seemed to be the women who were doing the grunt work. Next to the workers were their children, playing or sleeping in the sultry heat. I was in awe of what I was watching and felt so bad for them, yet I know that they were very proud of their work. They watched us with curiosity just as much as we watched them. And what I wishfully interpreted to be support while I swung at the ball was probably contained laughter. “Look at that silly white boy…can’t hit the ball!!”
The course is fairly rough compared to what we are used to and
Mmmm...Canadian food!
Brad is an awesome chef. In fact, he used to cook in the kitchen of a five-star restaurant in Mont Ste- Anne. This particular meal consisted of rice, grilled vegetables and fresh chicken breast stuffed with cheese, asparagus and serano. It was soooo good! covered in small debris from trees. Many of the holes are along the expressway which, for the seasoned golfer, would be an annoyance given that there is no escaping the constant blowing of horns and the hum of the traffic noise. On some holes, the air smelled like a pig farm with fresh manure spread across the fields on a warm damp day. But on other holes, I couldn’t help but notice the lushness of the foliage and the many contrasting colours of some of the shrubs. Standing at one of the holes is a monument identifying the location of the 1803 Battle of Delhi, a battle which increased British power and prestige in India at that time.
My caddy was Sunil. He was neatly dressed in a white golf shirt and navy pants, although they looked like they hadn’t been washed in a few days. Neat nevertheless. He knows his game and, in fact, the caddies get to golf on the course which is probably a privilege for these young men. Sunil has been working at the course for about four years. He spoke little English but enough that he could instruct me. “Head down. Knee bend,” he
Dinner at Punjabi by Nature
Clockwise, L to R: John, Tara, Jane, Brad and Mark would tell me. I would swing and shamelessly watch my ball lumber down the fairway or in to the rough. “No problem,” he would say and off he would go, retrieve my ball and toss it on to the fairway in a better position. Over and over. “Head down. Knee bend.” Swing. “No problem.” Poor guy.
Part way through the nine holes, we came across a building that sold cold drinks. The caddies were happy to be offered a somewhat cool bottle of pop to get them through the remainder of the holes.
We finished our game in about an hour and a half. We started at 10:00 am which is a time when no one is on the course (due to the heat). I really didn’t see any other golfers until we were nearing the end of our game. We thanked our caddies and tipped them generously, so much so that they asked us to call them if we came back. I’m sure Sunil would rather spend his day doing something other than chasing my balls (??!!) but money is money.
Last weekend, we took a day trip to Agra which is where the Taj Mahal
Moody
This is a really interesting painting in Punjabi by Nature, a restaurant that we really enjoyed. The restaurant has several other paintings that are very similar in mood...all by the same artist. is located. Unfortunately, Brenda was not able to join us…her itinerary included multiple visits to a white porcelain bowl while our itinerary included a visit to a white marble masterpiece! Fortunately, however, Brenda’s work assignment lasts until December so she will have lots of time to go there in the upcoming months, perhaps when the temperature is a little cooler.
We travelled to Agra with two of our new co-workers, their respective wives and children. Vikesh’s wife’s name is Ragni and they have a five-year old son named Pushan (which means “sun”); Shailendra’s wife’s name is Shalini and they have a seven-year old daughter named Anushka. Pushan and Anushka are the best of friends. In fact, they are all best friends. We started our day at 5:30 am and finished it just before midnight. It was a LONG day, a day that most children would NOT get through without some whining and screaming and fighting and complaining. But I can honestly say that Pushan and Anushka had fun and were a pleasure to be with. They played so well with each other the entire day. They played hide and seek in among century old columns at temples, they chased
butterflies at the Taj Mahal, they played a game called “Statue” in the car (you point at someone and say “Statue”…that person has to freeze…then the other one says “Go” to unfreeze. It’s a fun game to play in the car), they entertained themselves while we ate, and they slept quietly at the end of the day.
The drive to/from Agra was approximately four hours each way and was an adventure in itself. In fact, that is an understatement. I can not possibly describe, or show in pictures, what the trip was like. If there was an empty spot on the highway, then someone tried to grab it. And you were never quite sure if the oncoming traffic that was DIRECTLY in front of you would get out of your way until the last second. If you recall the “dramatic” and poorly played out street scenes of Starsky and Hutch or Charlie’s Angels, then you know what I am talking about. Jill Munroe is driving her white Ford Mustang Cobra on a deserted California hillside; an unshaven hoodlum is driving a battered Ford LTD towards her. The scene flips to Jill…her mouth gaping open, her golden mane blowing in
the wind and her eyes darting back and forth…she can’t go left because she will go over a cliff…she can’t go right because she will drive in to the hill. Then the scene flips to the criminal, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth…a toothless smirk on this face…he thinks he has her cornered. Then it flips back to Jill. She is panicked…what would Bossley do? Then back to the criminal…he’s ready to claim his victory. Then at the very last second, a delivery truck miraculously appears out of nowhere in to the path of the criminal and he plunges off the road, over the cliff in to jagged rocks lining the Pacific coast below.
Our trip was kind of like that. Okay, I exaggerate a bit, but not by much…and the others would agree!!! It was insane!! Oh, did I mention that two of the seats in our van didn’t have seatbelts??? Yeah, that was a real treat. Ten hours of NASCAR driving without a seatbelt. I will say, though, that our driver, Sagar, got us home safe and sound despite all the craziness. Thanks Sagar!!
Anyway, enough of the drama and back to our trip. Along
the way, we stopped at a roadside vendor near Kosi for some chai tea. We sat underneath a thatched canopy and drank fresh brewed chai tea and ate paneer (cheese) deep fried in a golden batter. Very oily but very good. Further along, we stopped at the Jai Gurudev temple. Our drivers parked along the highway across from the temple so we had to dart across the highway during a break in the traffic. Just as we got to the other side, Vikesh yelled, “Grab your cameras!!!” We turned around and there was of herd of cattle (there must have been a hundred) crossing the highway in a fairly orderly fashion and at a quick pace. They were guided by farmers I assume and it seemed perfectly normal. Traffic stopped and waited while we were the typical tourists snapping pictures and filming it. It was the strangest thing. Clop, clop, clop, moooooooo.
After that excitement, we turned toward our original destination…the temple. Before we could enter the temple, we had to remove our socks, sandals and shoes and leave them at the front. Bare feet were the footwear for this stop on our trip. The marble grounds were wet
Brad outside the Central Cottage Industries Emporium
We went shopping at the Central Cottage Industries Emporium. It is an open shopping centre that offers all kinds of Indian-made merchandise. and were a bit of a hazard to say the least. At first glance, the temple appears old but is actually only about 10 years old. The pure white marble structure is surrounded by white railings, columns and marble-laden grounds; inside it was somewhat peaceful. The one thing that took away from it was the string of Las Vegas LED rope lights that lined the walls and ceilings in a room underneath the temple. In that room, you are to make a wish but your wish will only come true if you vow to give up a bad habit. I didn’t bother because I don’t have any bad habits (ha ha…just kidding). I didn’t make a wish because, once your “wish comes true”, you have to return to the temple. I wasn’t about to take another ride with Jill Munroe in her Cobra to return to the temple!
As we travelled through Agra to get to “the Taj”, we worked our way through some noisy, dirty and people-packed streets, albeit colourful. After a stop for a quick washroom break and to pick up our pre-arranged tour guide, we arrived at the parking area about two “blocks” from the Taj.
As soon as we stepped outside of our van, we were fresh meat for people trying to get us to travel in their rickshaws or horse-drawn and camel-drawn carriages and also for the young kids selling postcards and Taj Mahal books. We opted for an old rickety, but fairly clean and comfortable, bus to drop us off at the Taj. We went through the usual security checks and then entered the grounds which lead to the Gateway where we caught our first glimpse of the Taj Mahal. Wow!! It truly is majestic in every way. We were there on a rather overcast and dull day, yet the marble tomb, symmetrical from every angle, still seemed like a beautiful jewel.
The Taj Mahal is strategically placed high up on the banks of the River Yamuna so there are no unsightly structures behind it…just the backdrop of the sky. They say that, during early sunrise, the Taj just gradually appears as if out of nowhere and appears to be floating. We weren’t fortunate enough to see it from that perspective but I can imagine it in my mind’s eye. The Lotus Pool in front of the Taj reflects its beauty. Our
Teach India
That is exactly what we are here to do! tour guide gradually led us to the steps, stopping along the way to tell us some of its history. It was built by the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan for his favourite wife, Mumtaz Mahal. It took approximately 20,000 workers almost 22 years to build it in its entirety at a cost of nearly 41 million rupees (approximately $1M CDN). It was completed in 1653. Unbelievable when you stand in front of it and think about the scope of that project over 350 years ago. And I can’t even change a flat tire!!!!
The Taj is adorned with carved relief work and beautiful inlaid marble and precious stones, all in floral motifs. The colours are subtle but beautiful. Black marble calligraphy, also carefully inlaid, surrounds arches. The white marble tomb itself is still pristine. In fact, the reason we parked a couple of blocks away is because traffic is no longer permitted be near the tomb in order to avoid pollutants discolouring the marble. Inside, it is actually smaller than what I imagined but still grand. We toured the tomb and the immediate area outside of it wearing little covers that slipped over our shoes. They reminded me of booties
that Doctors wear.
After leaving the Taj, we stopped for a street-side view of Agra’s Red Fort and then our guide took us to a carpet artisan to see Indian carpets being hand made. The speed with which the artisans worked was incredible, especially when you consider the intricacy of some of the designs. The owner took us to the back to show us all the colours of the yarns and then, voila, he opened a door to the showroom. Now the sales pitch! A young man immediately started grabbing rugs and unfurling them before us. Small rugs, large rugs, dark rugs, light rugs…all in every colour imaginable. They truly were beautiful but we weren’t in a rug-buying mood, perhaps to the disappointment of the owner…and the poor guy who had to roll up all those rugs again!!
Our last stop was at Jami Masjid, a mosque that overlooks the city of Fatehpur Sikri, about a half hour outside Agra. Again, when we arrived, young kids swarmed us. This is the worst that we’ve experienced so far. Post cards, books, little snow globes, blah, blah, blah. 50 Rs for this, 10 Rs for that. It was all I
Clubhouse
The clubhouse at the Noida Gold Course could do to NOT tell them I would give them 500 Rs to get lost. Instead, I turned to them, looked them straight in the eye, held the palm of my hand up and said a firm “NO”. Yeah, right. “You don’t want, sir?” “How much you pay?” “Where you from?” “You remember me when you come back and I will give you good deal.” Aggravating (I’m going to be a grouchy S-O-B when I get older!!).
Anyway, we took a bus up a winding hill to the mosque then, after climbing the steep stairs to the huge gateway (Buland Darwaza)…it finally happened…the dreaded “You can’t go in there in shorts…put this on”. Our young tour-guide (not the same one who took us through the Taj…we had dropped him off long ago…I’m not really sure where this one came from but there he was!) handed me a bright fuchsia wrap-around skirt that I had to wear to cover my legs. Tara also had to wear one but of course it looked perfectly normal on her. For an hour I paraded around the mosque in the flowing skirt feeling somewhat like Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. If only my friends
Waiting patiently
Children play or sleep while their parents do manual labour to build a golf hole at the Noida Golf Course could see me now. Oh hell, I’m not proud; I’ve included a picture that John so eagerly snapped of me. To add insult to injury, when I handed it back to someone at the entrance, they tried to get money out of me. I totally appreciate that it is respectful to cover the legs when entering a mosque, but then to try and make me pay for the humiliation??? Not happening…and it didn’t. I told him flat out that I wasn’t paying and kept walking. Paying was not a requirement…this was just some guy trying to get people to THINK that they had to pay.
The mosque’s architecture was beautiful, again considering that it was centuries old. The back of the mosque commanded a rather sad but realistic view of how people live in Fatehpur Sikri. After about an hour, we left the mosque, scooped up our shoes which were under the watchful eyes of Ragni and Shalini and we were back on the bus, but not without being pestered by the kids trying to sell things. “Do you remember me?” YES, I REMEMBER YOU! NOW BEAT IT!!
This was the last leg of our trip and I
was exhausted, as was everyone else. We were hot, sweaty and tired. We were eventually back in Sagar’s van and on the road for the four hour action-packed trip home. Poor Brad had to sit in the front passenger seat and see everything coming at him in full living colour. I, on the other hand, sat in the very back seat and slept away my fear of riding without a seatbelt on!
On a more serious note, most of you have probably heard about the recent bombings in Bangalore and Ahmadabad. Those cities are several thousands of kilometres away; however, given that New Delhi is the capital of India, we’ve been advised to not do any unnecessary travel. It certainly puts a damper on any immediate plans we have of exploring the area outside of New Delhi and perhaps even New Delhi itself. But we can’t let it paralyse us either. We just have to be smart about it. We are fine and still going about our daily activities. So stay tuned for additional entries to the blog…more adventures and pictures are on their way!
Oh, you might be wondering about Lenny. It seems that Lenny has left
Curious
These children of the labourers at the Noida Golf Course were very curious about the white folks on the course. the building. He hasn’t been seen for several days so I suspect our constant coming and goings drove him away. Can’t say that I’m upset about that!
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