The Freezer Aisle

Maybe it's because I haven't really had to go grocery shopping too much yet, but it just hit me today as I went into the store to get some healthy choice meals - how much ready-made, frozen, and packaged foods we eat. As I passed the rows and rows of freezers, it made me a little sad. My roommates in India didn't even want to buy frozen peas but would rather buy fresh and shell them themselves (which ironically sometimes they ended up in the freezer anyway!) But really there aren't many frozen options available there at all. Overall there are just not as many processed, packaged foods.

As I was tempted by frozen Aimee's thai stirfry, the $5 or 6 for one meal made me wince. Dang, I forgot how expensive this stuff is! I had to all but close my eyes as I walked through the frozen dessert freezers, conveniently located last thing before you reach the check out.

So in the end I guess I am conflicted about it. Indians' insistence of fresh foods and dislike for prepackaged items results in women spending a huge portion of their day in the kitchen preparing fresh meals. (Does it make that much difference that the food was fresh after it's been chopped and stewed and simmered to death so that it is now beyond recognition? Well, I don't know.) But I bet they still spend a smaller percentage of their paycheck on food than we do. But then, when I was in India I did miss the variety and choices we have in the US. It's nice to walk through the store and have the option of 10 different brands of ranch dressing and to have an entire aisle dedicated to breakfast cereal as opposed to having maybe 7 cereals to chose from. And even though I know it's still not healthy, I do love that I can buy lots of weight watchers desserts, and still have my sweet fix knowing that it's at least fewer calories and fat than buying a cookie from Donut Bank...

Back

I just got back to the US on the 8th. All the flights home plus layovers amounted to over 30 hours of traveling, I think. I flew from Ahmedabad to Mumbai. I was worried about the 5 hour layover at Mumbai, but going from the domestic to international airport took so much time that I actually only had an hour or so to kill before my flight left. My two large, checked bags were over the weight limit so I had to pay $50 for each to get them home. And to make more of my luggage allowance, I purchased a rolling, carry on and took my huge laptop backpack. Along with these bags and shipping home all my research books fro $100, everything made it back, and happily only one glass lantern ended up broken out of everything!

To go from the domestic to international airports, for security reasons even though all my luggage was checked through, I had to wait for it to come of the luggage belt and identify it before they would send it onward. Finally after that, I had to wait in line for the shuttle to the international airport. For some crazy reason, there was only one shuttle that came only once every 30-45 minutes! As I lugged my carry-on done the stairs and then up the steps on the shuttle, I was reminded how difficult India must be for anyone disabled!

I have to say I felt kind of sorry for the American flight crew with a plane full of Indians. They had a hard time getting them to put on their seatbelts. Repeatedly they had to tell people that their children could not just run around the aisles but needed to stay in their seats. One father would not keep the seatbelts on his kids and himself. The flight attendant said that if they did not keep their belts on over their blankets, she would have to wake the kids up to see if the belts were on. Later he assured her that his belt was on. I heard her say, "Sir, I can see your seatbelt hanging down from your seat there!"

One of the things I had really missed besides American food, was American bathrooms. I'm not talking about the squat toilets or anything, but just the more luxurious feeling of our bathrooms. Indian bathrooms are small rooms completely tiled. Although there are often shower heads, everyone fills a bucket of water from the tap and uses a cup to pour water over themselves. I did this for most of the time, until it got really hot, and standing under the shower was a respite from the heat. There is rarely hot water, and believe me sometimes in the winter there, you do want it. If it is needed, they may purchase a 'geezer' which is a unit that attaches to the wall and warms the water. You have to turn it on 10 minutes before your bath to get the water warm. Or get a plug in heating rod that you put in the bucket of water to heat it up.

Adjusting to life back in the US hasn't been much of a problem at all really. One of the only things that really hit me was taking a shower for the first time. At home there was a new showerhead with multiple settings. I turned the shower on, and the water came out so hard that I felt like I was standing under Niagara falls! I changed the setting to the one that seemed to come out the most gentle, but still I felt horribly guilty about how much water I was using to get clean! Compared to the small amount I had been using in India, even when I did use the shower - there I was able to turn the shower off while I soaped my hair and back on to wash the soap off, and the water pressure was a mere trickle compared to this! And I will admit, I have never been a very environmentally conscious person, I know it's bad, but I'm not, but the shower made me feel horrible!

The funniest part was though that later that day, Sam and Mom just happened to be talking about the new shower head. They were complaining that they didn't like this new one because the water pressure was way too low! I couldn't believe it!

And I must say that I do kind of miss the outsidey-ness of India, despite my promise of never going outside again when I came home. I woke up in my bed the first day back (which was fabulously comfortable) and missed my open balcony doors. And, yes, I realize my hypocrisy because I'm sure the minute I'd be back in India, I would be complaining about the heat and the pigeons getting in, and the dirt, etc from having the doors open. But the bed is great too. Mattresses in India were pretty thin and hard, I mean it wasn't uncomfortable but there's just nothing like lying in a big, fluffy mattress with lots of nice bedding!

Here are some pics of me arriving back home. They made my favorite dinner of steak and Caesar salad, and I gave the family all of their goodies I brought back. Sam was excited about the cricket T-shirt I brought; he said it was a perfect bike riding shirt.

Monsoon!!

So finally! Here is the big monsoon! Almost every single day it has been raining, often more than once. As this has cooled the temperature dramatically, I do not care in the least about the wetness! However some days the insane humidity does get to me.
We were watching Indian Idol yesterday, and my roommate asked me, "How is her hair so smooth and shiny?? They don't have humidity there??"

The three of us roommates got ourselves niced up to go out for my going away dinner with some friends. We got outside and it just started raining. And when it starts raining, it can be hard to find an autorickshaw. All the autowalas suddenly have an attitude, I suppose knowing that now the whole city is depending on them, they refuse to take anyone anywhere, and when they do, they increase the fare. We finally found one that night, but not before the effort of fixing our hair and all was for naught.

Part of the problem is that there is no stormwater drainage system, so low points just flood with nowhere to drain. Traffic gets completely jammed as everyone is in a hurry to get where they are going, and no one will give way to each other. That night we sat at an intersection for 10 minutes at least because the vehicles coming from either direction just kept moving forward without letting the others pass. Finally no one could move at all. All the poor people on motorcyles and scooters were completely drenched. Finally our heroes, the autowalas, hopped out and started directing traffic and got things moving. Even after this trouble, we still were the first to arrive at the restaurant.

In this humidity, the clothes that dried on our balcony in a day, now take days to dry, so we have to bring them inside under the fan.

Harpreet's Shaadi

I came to Chandigarh because my good friend, Harpreet, was getting married. We had worked together on a project at CEPT when I came to India in 2005 on CapAsia and since I came back last year, we had kept in touch through email pretty regularly for people on opposite sides of the globe. So I was really excited that I would be here, in the country, and could come to his wedding.

I actually just attended the reception, as the actual wedding was in Jalandhar. I planned on wearing my new, blue sari for the occasion. I had been all over town before trying to find a place that sold ready-made sari petticoats. I could have had one sewn to exactly match, but didn't feel like going to that trouble! But I thought, with the number of women wearing saris, it would have been easier to find a ready made one! Finally I found a shop, and they actually sold very nice, quality ones. The women went through the stacks to find the right color and size. They helped me try them on and pulled out darts there to make it fit better and hemmed it while I waited.

As Rashmi had helped me tie my sari at home for pictures, I was pretty confident that I could do it alone. Accomplishing the feat of wrapping myself in 6 meters of fabric I think took about an hour! As soon as I got one part right, I had to re-fix another part, but finally it came out right. I added a red, jeweled stick-on bindi to my forehead, and was ready to go. As I locked the door, the hotel workers saw me dressed up, and was excited to go tell the other workers that I was wearing "Indian dress."
They obligingly took my picture before I left. When the autowala dropped me at the party plot, he told me he couldn't express how pretty I looked in Indian dress.

Even though I ended up being about an hour late because of putting on my sari, the bride and groom had not arrived yet. I was quite happy to see that the reception was inside, in a well air conditioned room as it was soo humid! Overall I was happy to notice that the Punjabis seemed to use A/C much more than the Gujaratis. As I entered the room, I was greeted right away by Harpreet's father and brother. His two younger brothers are identical twins, and I had to admit to him that I wasn't sure if he was Sunny or Hunny. He admitted that most of the relatives couldn't even tell them apart. I guessed correctly that he was Sunny and had worn matching yellow shirt and turban to make it easier, while Hunny wore pink.

Some of the other relatives had me sit with them while we waited for the couple, and servers came around with soft drinks, spring rolls, fried veggie nuggets, and hot chocolate. Finally the couple arrived and sat on a special dais to receive guests and take pictures and receive gifts. The bride, Simpreet, looked beautiful in a really lovely pink and mint sari and the traditional forearm full of red and white bangles that a bride must wear during the initial stage of being married.

Later on, some other friends from CEPT arrived, so it was nice to have some friends to sit with. There was a small dance floor in the front which mostly the children were using. They were pretty cute. I took some videos; one little girl really had some moves! Our group ate dinner there late. There was daal, rice, and other typical Indian foods with areas for veg and non-veg. I had some of the chinese food.

We stayed late, and I didn't get back to the hotel til 1 am. By this time I had had to re-adjust my sari multiple times, and I was not looking nearly so good as in the beginning. If my roommate had been there, she probably would have scolded me for pinning and unpinning the fabric over my shoulder. Hahaha, several times while wearing my salwar suit and see me holding up the corner of the tunic with one hand, she would make sure I stopped. My train for Delhi left at 6:45 am, so I didn't get much sleep at all before I had to get up.

I took the train to Delhi and met Rashmi's boyfriend at the station. She had some gifts she'd asked me to give to him. With him, I rode the Delhi Metro train for the first time. Overall, it was impressive, however to get a single token for one trip the line was a 15 minute wait, and to get through you had to put your bags through a screener like at the airport. The train and stations were clean, but as are most things in india, the cars were very crowded. Finally I took my flight back to Ahmedabad exhausted after the travel and walking around Chandigarh for the week.

Like Father Like Daughter??

I found the Ruby Tuesday in Chandigarh! And it was a GENUINE, American Ruby Tuesday, right down to all the old junk and pictures on the wall, the bar with colorful liquor bottles, and stained-glass lamp shades. It ended up being the single most expensive meal, I've had here; it was pretty ridiculous actually. It was over 1/4 of my monthly rent, but then I did order the most expensive item on the menu... At a mall in a Le Cobusier or Corbu-eque building in the suburbs of Chandigarh. They were having some kind of Indian Idol singing competition when I went in, so half of my meal I could still hear the horrible singing going on downstairs. The other half someone must have complained, because they turned the music up louder in the restaurant.

Between yesterday's restaurant experience and today, the only problem was deciding what to order with all the western choices. And yes, I know, I coming home soon. DON'T CARE! I'll have it again when I come home, but the novelty of this stuff in India is too great. Most of it was American stuff on the menu, but there were also some Indian junk thrown in, too. There were a few curries and a biriyani, I guess for that family member who just wouldn't eat that foreign stuff.

There were lots of typical appetizers, quesadillas, eggrolls, artichoke dip. Pav Bhaji for the Indians - kind of like chili with diced vegetables eaten with hawaiian rolls. I was amused by this addition. Buffalo wings and nachos. For the main courses, there were 'burgers' chicken of course. Chicken parmisean, big, real lettuce salads, new orleans fish and shrimp. So many choices.

Finally I thought Guacamole sounded too good to pass up, so ordered that as an appetizer. I almost decided on a burger, they looked so good in the pictures, but I kept reminding myself that it just wouldn't be as good with chicken. Finally I decided to go with the Ribs, Shrimp, and Buffalo Wings platter. Yes, taking after my dad, the meat-a-saurus, I decided the ribs just sounded so good.

Now, I should have known it wouldn't be as expected, but for "American" food it was decent. However I immediately knew when the brought out the guac it wasn't gonna be good. The texture looked more like lumpy, instant mashed potatoes or something. It didn't really taste like avacado, it just tasted like tomato. But the chips were good, and the tiny dish of salsa with it was good, so whatever. Then they brought out my meat extravaganza! With as much meat as this had - pork, shrimp, and chicken (in the land of veggies) and with it being the most expensive on the menu, I can't imagine it gets ordered very often.

The shrimp was breaded and fried...but not to a crunchy friedness, but a soggyness. The mix of steamed cauliflower, beans, carrots, and broccoli was nice. Nice to have some vegetables that aren't a.) cooked beyond recognition in a curry sauce or b.) raw slices of cucumber, onion, and dried up carrots. And there was a baked potato with sour cream! The buffalo wings were ok, not too great and must have come from the scrawniest chickens ever! But whatever, I'm not complaining...too much. The ribs were the best though. But I will admit, the sauce covering them at first frightened me a little. It was a very thick dark sauce. It kind of reminded me of some gloopy crude oil scum dredged off a oil spill. But it tasted good, and I made a mess of myself, but that's what ribs are for right?

So being a bit embarrassed by ordering so much for myself, I declined dessert. Even though there was Italian Wedding Cake for dessert, and this is my FAVORITE. How many times have I asked for this for my birthday? Or the one time I made it without using all-purpose flour and it was flat as a pancake. But I refrained. As I write this at 1:30 in the morning, making myself hungry, maybe I should have had it...

But maybe I'll go have a "BoxMaster" at KFC tomorrow instead...

Food, Glorious Food

So I have come to the thought that maybe it's just Gujus that don't particularly like western food. Which is surprising when so many of them have lived in the US. Now Ahmedabad has I think 6 million people, and there are restaurants that serve western food, but it is generally very disappointing. It usually tastes nothing like what it is supposed to. They always add masala. One restaurant had pad thai on the menu. I skeptically asked if it had lots of peanuts in it. He assured me that yes it did. When it got to my plate it was just a bunch of noodles with chili sauce that had none of the peanut flavor it should. Oh, and ketchup. What is WITH the ketchup? Seriously, NO KETCHUP ON PIZZA. Nooooooooo! Just No! I usually acknowledge that people should be free to eat what they want. But here I put my foot down. It is a crime, no, a sin, how much they douse their pizza in ketchup. In times of grumpiness, I have truly had to restrain myself from grabbing the ketchup bottle out of the hands some poor Guju at PizzaHut.

However already in Chandigarh I have found many good spots. Yesterday I was very happy to see a honey-mustard chicken sandwich on the menu. I suspiciously asked the waiter if there was any masala on the sandwich. He said no, but I didn't believe him. But lo, and behold, it was good and not Indian-ized. Not only that, but there was also a side salad. And by 'salad' I don't mean the usual slices of cucumber and dry-up carrots, but actual LETTUCE. Yes, it was a real salad with lettuce and dressing. oh it was good, expensive, but good.

I noticed there was a KFC not far from my hotel. Now I hadn't been to one in India, so I thought this was a good time. In Singapore everything was pretty much the same. I had some of their nice mashed potatoes. Well, in India apparently they don't have them. Actually in one place they had advertised a chicken thali meal. I slapped my forehead on this one. They had completely indianized it, and instead of mashed potates and all that, you got a rice plate with chicken.

Anyway at this place, on the menu they had a 'BoxMaster.' As I could not figure out what is was from the picture, I had to try it. Basically it was chicken strips with lettuce and dressing with an aloo (potato) spicy patty wrapped in a tortilla. Where did this idea come from?? I have no clue, but it was pretty good. And of course in India, there is always the ubiquitous veggie selection, even at KFC.

But not only that! I found a restaurant the shopping area of Sector 9 called Backpacker. There was a QUICHE! yes, quiche! Not only that but it had ham! And it tasted exactly as a quiche should! And it came with a salad of lettuce with olives. It was great! I was so excited by the menu items that I couldn't resist ordering the baked mushrooms as well. And guess what! They were stuffed mushroom caps, and they tasted like they should as well! Expensive, but sooooo good.
Ok anyway, I had to say it. I've been sick of Indian food, sorry, but the masala (spices) are getting to me. And yes, I have considered that as I am leaving soon, maybe I should be getting in some last Indian food. Well, I've had some...the spices didn't...come out well. So I'll just be excited by my findings here!

I read online that there is a Ruby Tuesday's here in Chandigarh...I'm holding my breath to see if it's the real thing... I'll let you know.

Fatehpur Sikri 2

There was a treasury room, one room for gold, one for silver, and one for diamonds. There were narrow hallways between the rooms where guards would have stood watch. The guide said the emperor and his wives were said to have played hide and seek here. He creepily took my hand and tried to demonstrate how they would have skipped and played.

The other part of Fatehpur Sikri was a tomb built for a sufi. Akbar had had no sons, and this sufi blessed him and promised he would have one which is what happened. In thanks, he built this tomb for the sufi. It was in a large courtyard surrounded by walls and large gates made of red sandstone. The tomb itself was made of white marble and laid out similarly to the Taj Mahal. Around this were many other tombs in the red sandstone. There were many elaborate jalis cut into the sides of the building. The guide tried to get me to purchase an offering for the sufi, as it was a “charitable organization.” You supposedly also got your wish if you tied strings onto the jalis. I felt somewhat guilty for not giving an offering, so I threw in Rs 20 into the pot inside the tomb where worshippers were gathered.

At that point the tour was pretty much over, and the guide had mentioned before that his family did stone cutting work, and they had a small shop he wanted to show me. Again, I really didn't want anything, but it's hard to squeeze your way out of these things. There was a guy sitting in a shaded arcade with a bunch of marble pieces. It was the kind of thing where it's a elephant with stone cut out and they have somehow carved one or two more elephants inside it's belly. And marble cut out insense burners and candle holders. I really didn't want, and it was too hot to sit there. I was sweating buckets. He showed me how the marble changed color if you got it went, and said if you rubbed oil on it the colors would stay. I made the mistake of showing interest in a piece that could be a pen holder, incense holder, etc depending on which way you turned it. His first price was Rs. 1500 which was ridiculous! That's over $20, and I knew that it couldn't be more that Rs. 500. I was sick of playing that game, so I was up on my feet, but he stopped me. I could make out that the guide said to him in Hindi, that I live in Ahmedabad, I know the prices. I said I would pay no more than Rs. 300 for it. He lowered his price slightly; I said no, and he kept asking what my bottom price was. Finally I was fed up, and walked away. As we were walking to the car, the guide asked if I wanted this piece and said he could get it for Rs. 300 at a market at the entrance. Yeah, that's what I thought. Rs. 1500 my foot.

However he got the last laugh. Earlier in the tour, he must have realized that I was not going to just take any price without bargaining and that I knew how much things had cost. So he had mentioned that the place charged him Rs. 300 to get in to give the tour. I thought he meant for the entire day he had to pay Rs. 300. So I had been trying to figure out how much to pay him for the tour. I settled on Rs. 300 which I thought was overpaying, and I thought surely he would be satisfied with this. I should have known better by now. He protested and said that no, they charge him Rs. 300 for each time he gives a tour, not for the whole day. He pulled out his license which stated that for 1-2 people they should give Rs. 499. Which was way too much, and I'm sure now this license was a fake. For perspective, when I did my housing surveys, to complete one survey I paid them Rs. 300. It probably took anywhere from 30 min to 1 hour to go to the house, explain what we were doing and administer the survey. The tour was maybe 2 hours and far less skilled that these surveyors. I finally coughed up one more Rs. 100 note. When I got back and checked my Lonely Planet book, it said guides there usually cost Rs. 85. The book is almost 10 years old, but even with that, I paid way more than I should have I'm sure.

And this is why I like Gujarat. People are very honest here, and I don't feel like I'm constantly on my guard. The train to Agra takes 2.5 hours I think. It took us 5 hours to get home in the car there was so much construction. From being out all day, I could feel the grit and dust on my forehead, and my fingernails turned black if I itched a scratch. As I removed my glasses, there was a ring of black where the rims had been under my eyes.