Days 8-9: Mumbai Wrap-up

Yesterday I overcame two things:

1) The Cold. It must have been a 24-hour type thing. That, or the Indian medicine really was good. However, I do think I might have overdone it with the pill-popping. At one point, taking my own pulse, I determined that it was under 50 beats per minute. I don’t think that is normal.

2) Two Cycle Sleep. I hit the sack almost immediately after returning from conducting appointments, about 7:30pm. I awoke thinking it must just be a few hours later, but upon looking at the clock rejoiced in seeing it was 4am. Eight consecutive hours, though a bit offset. Yes, unorthodox for someone who is not yet a senior citizen, but it works. Great that I’m finally approaching normalcy. Tonight I hop over 5.5 time zones to Morocco. Typical.

Overall, this visit to Mumbai (my third) was a big success in terms of work, but a dismal failure in terms of recreation. Oh well, you can’t win them all. Despite my mixed feelings, I am looking forward to my next trip to India in the fall. Before catching my plane, I had dinner with our agents. We discussed some interesting plans for the future. Now I just need to find someone up above to listen to me. More on this as it occurs. Now, I'm off to once again disprupt my diurnal rhythms by catching the 4 am red-eye (just as long as it isn't pink eye) to Dubai and then Morocco.

Tune in next time for J.C.’s reunion with Naser, as they explore the nightlife of Casablanca.

“Play it again, Sam.”

Days 6-7: Colaba

After the hour-plus cab ride from Bandra to Colaba, I check in to the Taj President and immediately move to the pool deck for some sun. After I've seen more than enough middle-aged European men in Speedos (three), I go back to the room for the afternoon siesta followed by hours of e-mail catch-up. I complete this familiar ritual in boxers and a fluffy bathrobe, three-day stubble, and the window open to a sweeping view of the bay separating Mumbai from the mainland. I feel so worldly in a Graham Greene kind of way. If only I had Havana Club on the rocks. Though I do celebrate with a couple of Kingfishers from the mini once I'm done. Then it's reading in bed until the second shift kicks in.

So I wake up and I'm obviously sick. Again. Seems like just yesterday this happened in Oman. Luckily this time it isn't as bad (knock, knock). I don't feel that under, but my nose is dripping steadily. Why has this happened to someone who usually prides himself on being quite healthy? Well let's see:
1) 36 hours of transportation and sitting in airports.
2) A messed up sleep cycle that isn't allowing a good consecutive 8 hours nightly.
3) Two days stuffed in the Education Boutique for ten hours with the masses.
4) Constant temperature changes, going from A/C to non-A/C areas.
5) The generally polluted atmosphere that is Mumbai.
6) There is no six because, no, I have not had any nights out on the town. So much for being good. Next time I'll keep myself pickled.

So this puts me in a great mood for dealing with the oppressive amount of service that one is often beset with in India. I've gotten used to most of this, but when I'm going through the breakfast buffet and a server hops in front of me and starts opening each dome of edibles one by one as I move along, that's too much. This is not the French Court, and my name is not Louis followed by Roman numerals. I swat him off. And get your damn hands off my decanter of juice. I can pour it myself. Coffee? Black. Just leave it.

I spend most of my day at the offices of our agents - meeting with interested students, perusing information gleaned from visitors at our weekend booth, and wiping my nose. Feeling miserable (more psychologically than physically, for wiping your nose all day just makes you feel like a disgusting specimen of humanity), I leave a bit early and go to the pharmacy on the first level of the building. I find some cold medicine and go to ring out. The clerk says "One Five." I take this to mean 150 rupees, or about $3.50 US. Not bad for 10 pills. But no, he meant 15 rupees. Thirty-five cents, folks. Yeah, US pharmaceutical companies ARE screwing us. Reading the back of the box, and calculating in my head that an Indian child is to an Indian adult is as an Indian adult is to me, I can probably pop half this box at once. Give me ten more. If no more posts follow, I probably passed out in the tub and drowned.

Days 3-6: Back in Bandra

First thing I do after checking into the hotel, is take a bath. A nice long, hot bath. Long, mainly because I fell asleep in it. Failing to drown myself, I awoke when the water cooled off. I moved to a drier sleeping environment, the bed, and continued for another few hours.

I should have tried to stay awake ‘til bedtime, because when I rose in the evening, I knew it would be that much harder to get myself on local time. I was right. Since this day, I’ve been stuck on a sleep schedule that puts me out in the afternoon for a few hours, keeps me up most of the night, then finally gives me a couple more hours sleep before once again awaking with the sane people. It’s a two-shift sleep system. This is a new one for me.

The two-day Times (of India) Education Boutique is brutal. First, because there are so many Indian students avidly seeking answers to the question “What next?” and second, because half of them think the answer is Fashion. Therefore, my already jet-lag bedraggled brain cells must further burden themselves as I pretend I enjoy this loathsome subject. Just throw me to the tigers and crocodiles, now.

But I make it through. Thank God and the Devil it is only a two-day fair. On the third day I rest, kind of. I move my encampment to another Taj hotel, this time the President, which is in South Mumbai, the Colaba district. This is close to where I will be holding appointments with students this week, at the offices of the school’s agents here in town.

Day 1-3: Jet-lag-o-rama

A pastoral panorama

This go round it took me about two days to get to India, minus the hours lost by traveling east through time zones. Domestic I was on Delta. International (Newark-London, London-Mumbai) I was on Virgin Atlantic. Ever wonder where all the hot stewardesses went? Wonder no more. Richard Branson must have hired every good-looking Brit on the island.


I can't remember, are people supposed to resemble their dogs, or visa versa?

I had about a 10 hour layover in London. So, after checking in at the gate, I used this opportunity to take the Tube into a suburb called Richmond to meet a friend, T_____, for lunch. T_____ and I met back last October when I was in Munich. She was at the booth next to me representing an American University in London. We met at O'Neil's Pub, grabbed a pint, then had some Mexican and shared gripes about our respective offices.


Life on the Thames

I was actually a bit early to meet T_____, so I took a walk around Richmond, which is a ways up the Thames from London proper. Georgeous place, as you can see from the pictures. And in just wouldn't have been England without the overcast sky.


Swans are mean little buggers

So in Mumbai I dragged myself off the plane and checked into my old friend, the Taj Lands End in the Bandra suburb of Mumbai. I feel like a regular.


Ain't that precious? Look at the Yorkie (this is for you, Mom).

Intermission

OK, so I was back in Southville for three weeks. Just enough time to catch up on all the new work I produced for myself. I also got to hang out with my old friends and make a few new ones. Let me also update you on Home-Owning for fun and profit: so far, little fun, no profit. This however, is largely my fault for being too trusting with my first tenants. They are now gone, and new ones are moving in already. Oh happy day.

Now, for my next trip: Mumbai, Casablanca, and Atlanta. Yep, hot and humid, hot and dry, and hot and full of pretentious wags. And a look at what is down the road: A fishing trip to my old stomping grounds in Central America with Dad, Uncle, and Cousin; A weekend excursion to the Outer Banks with some work friends; A week in Washington, DC for a conference on International Recruiting (this, of course, is when I actually go in for an update on my top-secret training. shhhh ). Should be an interesting summer. And I still have plenty of vacation time to spare. Might be taking a lot of half-days to go to The Island. We'll see.