my friend, jordan, has a friend from school who is from mumbai. they had a class together last semester and when her friend, farheen, heard that jordan was going to be in india, she told jordan that she should come visit. jordan was nice enough to invite tracy and i along.
last thursday night, we got in a rickshaw and made our way to lingampally, which is an area of hyderabad. lingampally is my least favorite place because it is super busy all the time and the cars honk at you all the time and people stare at you all the time. and it's not like i'm not used to these things, but lingampally is just all of those things times hundred. so we get to lingampally and we don't know where we are supposed to wait for our bus. we look for a bus stop sign, none. so then we go to a travel agent and they tell us to wait by the gandhi statue across the street. as we are crossing the street, an elderly woman gets her foot run over by a rickshaw! but this is not the united states where you would make a huge scene and then sue a bunch of people. no no. this is india, where instead her husband yelled at the rickshaw driver and she just limped away.
once we safely made it across the street, we waited for our bus to arrive at 7:30. bus after bus came, we asked where they were headed....7:40....7:50...8:00 is when our bus arrived. we got on, found our seats and then focused our attention on the extremely loud bollywood movie that was playing on a flat screen at the front of the bus. everytime a character punched another or got punched, we'd hear a hyperbolized POW noise a few seconds delayed from the actual physical punch. at 4 am, we wake up and notice that the bus has stopped moving. perfect, tracy and i think, since we have to go to the restroom. the two of us get off the bus and see that we are in the middle of nowhere, at a chai stand along the highway. oh well--we had to go. tracy didn't have her contacts in so i had to lead my legally blind friend to a grassy area behind a building so we could properly squat. right when we finish our task, we notice that just ahead of us in the dark, is a group of men doing ascestics in a field. at this point, nothing shocks us. we shrug it off and pull up our pants. as we meander back to the bus, we hear a loud HONK HONK and our bus lurch forward a bit. tracy and i booked it back to the bus and as soon as we stepped on, the bus started up for real this time. jordan was in the aisle, looking groggily scared and also relieved we didn't get left in the middle of nowhere india.
friday morning, we wake up at 7:30, since that's what time our ticket said we'd arrive in mumbai. we keep on making little stops, so jordan walks up to the front and asks when our stop is.
"three hours," the bus guy says.
again, this does not shock our acclimated indian-timed selves. so around 11, we get off in mumbai.
we hop in a rickshaw and head toward our hotel that farheen had booked for us. we show up, after a forty five minute sweaty, bumpy rickshaw ride in clothes we have been in for approximately twenty four hours, and the hotel asks us for our passports.
learning moment: always carry your passport on you, or at least a copy of your passport plus a copy of your visa plus a copy of your residential permit while traveling in india.
the reason why we purposefully did not bring our passports was because ciee told us time and time again that it was pretty much the worst thing we could possibly do because we might get pick pocketed and then the hotel might get broken into, etc. etc. sweaty and pitiful and tired, we call farheen and off we go to the nearest hotel. farheen and her mother immediately come over to this new hotel and start negotiating a cheaper price for the three of us and also a way we could get a room even if we don't have our passports/visas. meanwhile, i'm on the phone with one of the ciee directors asking him to scan photocopies of our passports/visas (which they luckily have on file) to the hotel's email. farheen gets shit done. even after she negotiated and we got the scans successfully sent, she looks at him and asks "when is checkout?"
manager: "noon"
farheen: "they don't leave on sunday until 7:30 so let them check out at 5"
manager: "okay" (along with a classic indian head wobble...see what i mean in the video below)
WE GET IN. farheen told us she'd call us later to see when we'd all meet up that night. we went upstairs and showered and then headed to one of farheen's favorite hang out/eating places, the mumbai times cafe. after lunch, we went back to our hotel and took a cozy nap, all cuddled together.
when we woke up, we went bangle shopping for our sarees. it's almost a sin to be caught in a saree without a bangle or two or seventeen. jordan got some beautiful orange ones to match her saree, and i got orange and green ones to match my dual colored saree. tracy borrowed one that jordan already had.
after we got our bangles, we gathered up our sarees and cameras and then met farheen in a rickshaw so she could show us her house. her house overlooks the arabian sea:
yeah i know right? living the dream. at her house, we sat and talked, ate some snacks and then her helper tied our sarees for us. farheen wore a salwar suit (which is like a fancy kurta with fancy pants..usually with sequins or glitter). i know i may be biased, but we looked like a dream come true. then it came for us to go to the indian wedding farheen hooked us up with!
farheen's sister's friend was the bride. for the record, indian weddings consist of weeks of different parties, so we didn't go to the wedding ceremony, we went to the cocktail party (which is kind of like a reception except WAY more fun). it was held in the sea princess hotel and the whole room was packed with people, a buffet, an open bar, and a dance floor. the dance floor wasn't one with a dj. it was one with traditional dancers and musicians. they played and sang on the dance floor and called up family members and friends to come dance for a minute or so in the spotlight. everyone was so happy! it didn't matter how old you were or how young you were or how awkward of a dancer you were--everyone gladly made their way up on the dance floor when the singer called their names and danced danced danced. if i get married, i think i'd like an indian wedding :)
i wish you could hear me talk about the wedding instead of read; you're missing out on giggles and squeals of excitement! attending the indian wedding is probably my favorite part of my time in india so far.
saturday morning, tracy and i went on a early morning walk while jordan slept until a normal hour. tracy and i stumbled upon the indian equivalent to starbucks: lavasso. i got a cold mango smoothie (usually i would say that watermelon is my favorite fruit...but i might be a mango girl now), and tracy got some kind of mocha something. when we got back to the hotel, jordan was awake and writing in her adorable journal. we decided we'd be touristy, so we caught a cab to south mumbai.
farheen told us that south mumbai is where all the touristy sights are, therefore heavily populated with touristy prices, touristy hotels, and touristy con artists. we got dropped off at the gateway of india, which was built for king george the fifth and queen mary in 1911. the gateway is right on the ocean, hence it's name. right next to it is the famous five star hotel, the taj (where the bombers attacked in 2008).
at this point we were starving, so we found a cute little cafe called cafe mondegar. it was pretty touristy, but very cute. honestly, it was a bit strange to see other westerners in india. i am so used to hyderabad, a very non-touristy place, so i was probably staring just as much as the indians stare at me, each time i saw another westerner.
after lunch, we went back to the taj hotel so we could get a peek inside. it was absolutely gorgeous. inside it had shops (louis vuitton, rolex, & the like), multiple restaurants, a bar, a SWIMMING POOL! just for fun, jordan asked the manager how much it would be per night for three people. he smiled at her, knowing that she nor tracy nor i had the money for that hotel. it was close to 500 USD per night. we made up little scenarios about how if our parents were there, that they would have to splurge and we'd all spent the night and go swimming in the bungalow pool and oooh and ahhhh over the photographs of past taj hotel guests (john lennon & yoko ono, hillary clinton, robert plant, president obama, former president bush, ravi shankar, tina turner, mick jagger) and eat the most exquisite food.
we quickly snapped out of these dream-fantasies of nights at the taj hotel as soon as we exited and and a woman with a monkey on a leash came up and started begging.
shortly after, farheen met up with us. she helped us shop for some souvenirs, bargaining in hindi for the lowest price possible. after a brief shopping excursion, farheen's driver picked us up and took us on a driving tour of south mumbai. we drove by the victoria terminal (where the bombers attacked), the courthouse, and saw lots of british inspired architecture. then we got out of the car so farheen could show us a washing slum. the slum was for people who make their living washing clothes and towels for a living. people were just bathing in the open in the little water ravines.
interesting fact: the slum in slumdog millionaire is in mumbai.
as we were going back to the car, these little beggar children started asking us for money. farheen told us that we should just try to play with the kids. so we had fun with them, and when we passed a street food vendor, farheen gave him enough money to give food to all the kids.
farheen's driver dropped us off again to go check out this mosque called haji ali dargah, which is in the middle of the sea. you have to walk out on this little aisle during low tide and then you'll be able to see the mosque. before we left for our trek to the mosque, farheen had us try pan. it tastes minty and sweet and bitter all at the same time.
walking on the aisle to the mosque, there were beggars lined up and down the sides, asking for money, praying. some people were mutilated, deformed, handicapped. farheen told us that most of the time, when mutilated or deformed people beg like that, instead of trying to live a normal life, they most likely have had it done to them (like in slumdog millionaire when that little boy gets scalding hot water thrown on his eyes, making him blind, therefore more "profitable" as a beggar). it was the most culture shocked that i've been while here.
inside the mosque, it was absolutely beautiful.
we got back in the car and got dropped off at our hotel. farheen had to do some packing, but she made us dinner reservations at this restaurant called china gate, which was a fusion of indian and chinese food. it was delicious!
back at the hotel, we got dressed and ready for our night our with farheen. she wanted to give us a glimpse of mumbai nightlife. however, nightlife doesn't start until 11:30 pm at the earliest! so we took a power nap before she came to pick us up. she took us to a an awesome bar called the hawaiian shack. it had three floors; the first floor had 80s/90s rock music playing, the second and third floors had punjabi music playing (northern indian hip hop music). we had a blast! it was so nice meeting some of her friends.
sunday morning we woke up hungry for some breakfast ice cream. our hotel was partially connected to a mcdonalds, so we went next door. there is something so incredibly satisfying about eating ice cream right when you wake up. well, and french fries (yes, they do taste the same as in america).
a couple hours later, we went to farheen's for lunch. there was a cucumber salad (kind of like pico de gallo), chicken biryani, kofta, and cabbage. for dessert, we got another round of ice cream--this time though, it was gourmet: roasted almond ice cream. farheen's mom gave us her phone number and told us that whenever we make it to delhi to give her a call and she will hook us up with her friends there. so once again, we will be spoiled silly, this time in delhi.
farheen had to finish her packing and last minute errands, so we all said goodbye. she was the best hostess ever. she made everything comfortable and fun and way more than we had expected. i told her that anytime she makes it to dallas (which surprisingly, she does have family in dallas) to let me know so i can return the favor. jordan said the same of new york. and tracy said the same of wisconsin. i'm sure wisconsin is first on farheen's list of places to see.
we left her house and went to the ELCO market (per farheen's mother's request). there were street vendors, but what she wanted us to do there was to try some authentic mumbai street food. we tried ragda pattice and dahi puri. ragda pattice is potatoes in a chickpea sauce, and dahi puri is these little puff balls with a filling inside, and then a sour cream sauce poured on top. strangely enough, the dahi puri tasted a little like enchiladas.
on our way back to our hotel, jordan and i stopped at a shoemaker stand. she bought these awesome sandals and i bought a pair of flats with little bells on them. homemade shoes for around 4 USD. i know you're jealous ;)
at the hotel, we packed up for our bus ride home. we stopped at subway for sandwiches for later, and caught a cab. the cab driver head wobbled for us when we told him our destination so we hopped in.
we got lost for an hour and a half and our cab driver didn't speak english. he kept yelling things to tracy, who was sitting in the front seat and she would just nod and say okay to whatever the hell he was saying. he kept stopping and asking people where the place we needed to go was. finally, we found some students who spoke great english and they starting talking to the cab driver, giving him directions. meanwhile, tracy unwraps her subway sandwich to have a little snack. the windows are rolled down, and since it's dusk, it's mosquito time. mosquitoes swarm the car, her sandwich. the students send us on our way, giving us their blessings. as we drive off, the cab driver yells to tracy (who is wrapping up her sandwich while swatting away attacking mosquitoes) HYDERABAD BUS and slaps the steering wheel. okay, she says.
we finally get to the place we are supposed to be and we start to get out. he asks us to pay the full price that the meter reads. we try to communicate that we don't want to pay the full price since it was his fault we got lost. and remember, we don't speak each other's languages. jordan starts handling the money situation and then a crowd of indian guys forms around the cab, trying to translate for jordan and the cab driver. tracy, already flustered from the constant yelling during the cab ride, gets nervous that we are causing a scene with all these indian people surrounding us. jordan ends up paying him the full amount, just to stop the madness. we start walking and i ask tracy for the bus ticket, since she was the last one who had it. she gives me a blank stare and drops her bags, rummaging around for the ticket. she freaks out and can't find it. jordan tells her to look in her sandwich bag, and lo and behold, it's snuggled up next to her ham sandwich. right after she finds it, she hands it to jordan and then tracy starts to cry. an indian woman with kind eyes and flawless english asks tracy why she is crying. jordan answers with a simple "she's just tired," and then goes into business mode with this woman, asking her where we should stand to catch the bus (since of course, there is not a bus stop sign). i'm standing next to tracy, rubbing her back, trying to make her feel better.
we make our way to the spot the woman recommended us to go to, and on our way, tracy gets a bug bite on her pinky toe. "guys..." she says like a nervous voice, "i think something bit me." jordan and i look down and think, that is definitely something stronger than a mosquito bite, but we look up at her and say "oh it's probably just a mosquito bite." she exhales. to make her calm down, jordan hands tracy two benadryl.
we make it to the bus depot, which has no sign. we are literally standing on the side of the highway. jordan, still in business mode, asks other people if they are waiting for the bus. tracy keeps telling me that she wants to move further down so we can get a better view, i'm telling her that we are in a good spot and assuring her that her toe is not in fact going to fall off. sheer chaos, i'm telling you. our bus was supposed to show up at 7:20. at 7:30 i call the bus and they say 7:40. at 7:50, our bus shows up, barely stopping for us to climb onboard. as soon as we're all on the bus, tracy turns to me, wrapping her blankie (which has seen better days) around her neck like a scarf, and says "i can't believe we're on this thing."
sometimes, i feel the same way about india. everything is a whirlwind, everything is an adventure. i can't believe i'm in this country.
i apologize for such a long post, i know how much my mom likes detailed stories :)
love to you all,
lauren
last thursday night, we got in a rickshaw and made our way to lingampally, which is an area of hyderabad. lingampally is my least favorite place because it is super busy all the time and the cars honk at you all the time and people stare at you all the time. and it's not like i'm not used to these things, but lingampally is just all of those things times hundred. so we get to lingampally and we don't know where we are supposed to wait for our bus. we look for a bus stop sign, none. so then we go to a travel agent and they tell us to wait by the gandhi statue across the street. as we are crossing the street, an elderly woman gets her foot run over by a rickshaw! but this is not the united states where you would make a huge scene and then sue a bunch of people. no no. this is india, where instead her husband yelled at the rickshaw driver and she just limped away.
once we safely made it across the street, we waited for our bus to arrive at 7:30. bus after bus came, we asked where they were headed....7:40....7:50...8:00 is when our bus arrived. we got on, found our seats and then focused our attention on the extremely loud bollywood movie that was playing on a flat screen at the front of the bus. everytime a character punched another or got punched, we'd hear a hyperbolized POW noise a few seconds delayed from the actual physical punch. at 4 am, we wake up and notice that the bus has stopped moving. perfect, tracy and i think, since we have to go to the restroom. the two of us get off the bus and see that we are in the middle of nowhere, at a chai stand along the highway. oh well--we had to go. tracy didn't have her contacts in so i had to lead my legally blind friend to a grassy area behind a building so we could properly squat. right when we finish our task, we notice that just ahead of us in the dark, is a group of men doing ascestics in a field. at this point, nothing shocks us. we shrug it off and pull up our pants. as we meander back to the bus, we hear a loud HONK HONK and our bus lurch forward a bit. tracy and i booked it back to the bus and as soon as we stepped on, the bus started up for real this time. jordan was in the aisle, looking groggily scared and also relieved we didn't get left in the middle of nowhere india.
friday morning, we wake up at 7:30, since that's what time our ticket said we'd arrive in mumbai. we keep on making little stops, so jordan walks up to the front and asks when our stop is.
"three hours," the bus guy says.
again, this does not shock our acclimated indian-timed selves. so around 11, we get off in mumbai.
we hop in a rickshaw and head toward our hotel that farheen had booked for us. we show up, after a forty five minute sweaty, bumpy rickshaw ride in clothes we have been in for approximately twenty four hours, and the hotel asks us for our passports.
learning moment: always carry your passport on you, or at least a copy of your passport plus a copy of your visa plus a copy of your residential permit while traveling in india.
the reason why we purposefully did not bring our passports was because ciee told us time and time again that it was pretty much the worst thing we could possibly do because we might get pick pocketed and then the hotel might get broken into, etc. etc. sweaty and pitiful and tired, we call farheen and off we go to the nearest hotel. farheen and her mother immediately come over to this new hotel and start negotiating a cheaper price for the three of us and also a way we could get a room even if we don't have our passports/visas. meanwhile, i'm on the phone with one of the ciee directors asking him to scan photocopies of our passports/visas (which they luckily have on file) to the hotel's email. farheen gets shit done. even after she negotiated and we got the scans successfully sent, she looks at him and asks "when is checkout?"
manager: "noon"
farheen: "they don't leave on sunday until 7:30 so let them check out at 5"
manager: "okay" (along with a classic indian head wobble...see what i mean in the video below)
WE GET IN. farheen told us she'd call us later to see when we'd all meet up that night. we went upstairs and showered and then headed to one of farheen's favorite hang out/eating places, the mumbai times cafe. after lunch, we went back to our hotel and took a cozy nap, all cuddled together.
when we woke up, we went bangle shopping for our sarees. it's almost a sin to be caught in a saree without a bangle or two or seventeen. jordan got some beautiful orange ones to match her saree, and i got orange and green ones to match my dual colored saree. tracy borrowed one that jordan already had.
after we got our bangles, we gathered up our sarees and cameras and then met farheen in a rickshaw so she could show us her house. her house overlooks the arabian sea:
 |
| the view from her balcony |
farheen's sister's friend was the bride. for the record, indian weddings consist of weeks of different parties, so we didn't go to the wedding ceremony, we went to the cocktail party (which is kind of like a reception except WAY more fun). it was held in the sea princess hotel and the whole room was packed with people, a buffet, an open bar, and a dance floor. the dance floor wasn't one with a dj. it was one with traditional dancers and musicians. they played and sang on the dance floor and called up family members and friends to come dance for a minute or so in the spotlight. everyone was so happy! it didn't matter how old you were or how young you were or how awkward of a dancer you were--everyone gladly made their way up on the dance floor when the singer called their names and danced danced danced. if i get married, i think i'd like an indian wedding :)
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| dancing! |
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| the bride is the one in the lower center of the photograph (isn't she beautiful?) |
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| more dancing! |
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| guests |
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| socializing/dancing |
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| tracy, lauren, jordan, and farheen |
saturday morning, tracy and i went on a early morning walk while jordan slept until a normal hour. tracy and i stumbled upon the indian equivalent to starbucks: lavasso. i got a cold mango smoothie (usually i would say that watermelon is my favorite fruit...but i might be a mango girl now), and tracy got some kind of mocha something. when we got back to the hotel, jordan was awake and writing in her adorable journal. we decided we'd be touristy, so we caught a cab to south mumbai.
farheen told us that south mumbai is where all the touristy sights are, therefore heavily populated with touristy prices, touristy hotels, and touristy con artists. we got dropped off at the gateway of india, which was built for king george the fifth and queen mary in 1911. the gateway is right on the ocean, hence it's name. right next to it is the famous five star hotel, the taj (where the bombers attacked in 2008).
 |
| gateway |
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| taj hotel |
after lunch, we went back to the taj hotel so we could get a peek inside. it was absolutely gorgeous. inside it had shops (louis vuitton, rolex, & the like), multiple restaurants, a bar, a SWIMMING POOL! just for fun, jordan asked the manager how much it would be per night for three people. he smiled at her, knowing that she nor tracy nor i had the money for that hotel. it was close to 500 USD per night. we made up little scenarios about how if our parents were there, that they would have to splurge and we'd all spent the night and go swimming in the bungalow pool and oooh and ahhhh over the photographs of past taj hotel guests (john lennon & yoko ono, hillary clinton, robert plant, president obama, former president bush, ravi shankar, tina turner, mick jagger) and eat the most exquisite food.
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| the lobby |
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| the ceiling above the staircase to the rooms |
shortly after, farheen met up with us. she helped us shop for some souvenirs, bargaining in hindi for the lowest price possible. after a brief shopping excursion, farheen's driver picked us up and took us on a driving tour of south mumbai. we drove by the victoria terminal (where the bombers attacked), the courthouse, and saw lots of british inspired architecture. then we got out of the car so farheen could show us a washing slum. the slum was for people who make their living washing clothes and towels for a living. people were just bathing in the open in the little water ravines.
interesting fact: the slum in slumdog millionaire is in mumbai.
as we were going back to the car, these little beggar children started asking us for money. farheen told us that we should just try to play with the kids. so we had fun with them, and when we passed a street food vendor, farheen gave him enough money to give food to all the kids.
 |
| tracy and i with the kids |
walking on the aisle to the mosque, there were beggars lined up and down the sides, asking for money, praying. some people were mutilated, deformed, handicapped. farheen told us that most of the time, when mutilated or deformed people beg like that, instead of trying to live a normal life, they most likely have had it done to them (like in slumdog millionaire when that little boy gets scalding hot water thrown on his eyes, making him blind, therefore more "profitable" as a beggar). it was the most culture shocked that i've been while here.
inside the mosque, it was absolutely beautiful.
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| outside, walking in |
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| inside! |
back at the hotel, we got dressed and ready for our night our with farheen. she wanted to give us a glimpse of mumbai nightlife. however, nightlife doesn't start until 11:30 pm at the earliest! so we took a power nap before she came to pick us up. she took us to a an awesome bar called the hawaiian shack. it had three floors; the first floor had 80s/90s rock music playing, the second and third floors had punjabi music playing (northern indian hip hop music). we had a blast! it was so nice meeting some of her friends.
sunday morning we woke up hungry for some breakfast ice cream. our hotel was partially connected to a mcdonalds, so we went next door. there is something so incredibly satisfying about eating ice cream right when you wake up. well, and french fries (yes, they do taste the same as in america).
a couple hours later, we went to farheen's for lunch. there was a cucumber salad (kind of like pico de gallo), chicken biryani, kofta, and cabbage. for dessert, we got another round of ice cream--this time though, it was gourmet: roasted almond ice cream. farheen's mom gave us her phone number and told us that whenever we make it to delhi to give her a call and she will hook us up with her friends there. so once again, we will be spoiled silly, this time in delhi.
farheen had to finish her packing and last minute errands, so we all said goodbye. she was the best hostess ever. she made everything comfortable and fun and way more than we had expected. i told her that anytime she makes it to dallas (which surprisingly, she does have family in dallas) to let me know so i can return the favor. jordan said the same of new york. and tracy said the same of wisconsin. i'm sure wisconsin is first on farheen's list of places to see.
we left her house and went to the ELCO market (per farheen's mother's request). there were street vendors, but what she wanted us to do there was to try some authentic mumbai street food. we tried ragda pattice and dahi puri. ragda pattice is potatoes in a chickpea sauce, and dahi puri is these little puff balls with a filling inside, and then a sour cream sauce poured on top. strangely enough, the dahi puri tasted a little like enchiladas.
on our way back to our hotel, jordan and i stopped at a shoemaker stand. she bought these awesome sandals and i bought a pair of flats with little bells on them. homemade shoes for around 4 USD. i know you're jealous ;)
at the hotel, we packed up for our bus ride home. we stopped at subway for sandwiches for later, and caught a cab. the cab driver head wobbled for us when we told him our destination so we hopped in.
we got lost for an hour and a half and our cab driver didn't speak english. he kept yelling things to tracy, who was sitting in the front seat and she would just nod and say okay to whatever the hell he was saying. he kept stopping and asking people where the place we needed to go was. finally, we found some students who spoke great english and they starting talking to the cab driver, giving him directions. meanwhile, tracy unwraps her subway sandwich to have a little snack. the windows are rolled down, and since it's dusk, it's mosquito time. mosquitoes swarm the car, her sandwich. the students send us on our way, giving us their blessings. as we drive off, the cab driver yells to tracy (who is wrapping up her sandwich while swatting away attacking mosquitoes) HYDERABAD BUS and slaps the steering wheel. okay, she says.
we finally get to the place we are supposed to be and we start to get out. he asks us to pay the full price that the meter reads. we try to communicate that we don't want to pay the full price since it was his fault we got lost. and remember, we don't speak each other's languages. jordan starts handling the money situation and then a crowd of indian guys forms around the cab, trying to translate for jordan and the cab driver. tracy, already flustered from the constant yelling during the cab ride, gets nervous that we are causing a scene with all these indian people surrounding us. jordan ends up paying him the full amount, just to stop the madness. we start walking and i ask tracy for the bus ticket, since she was the last one who had it. she gives me a blank stare and drops her bags, rummaging around for the ticket. she freaks out and can't find it. jordan tells her to look in her sandwich bag, and lo and behold, it's snuggled up next to her ham sandwich. right after she finds it, she hands it to jordan and then tracy starts to cry. an indian woman with kind eyes and flawless english asks tracy why she is crying. jordan answers with a simple "she's just tired," and then goes into business mode with this woman, asking her where we should stand to catch the bus (since of course, there is not a bus stop sign). i'm standing next to tracy, rubbing her back, trying to make her feel better.
we make our way to the spot the woman recommended us to go to, and on our way, tracy gets a bug bite on her pinky toe. "guys..." she says like a nervous voice, "i think something bit me." jordan and i look down and think, that is definitely something stronger than a mosquito bite, but we look up at her and say "oh it's probably just a mosquito bite." she exhales. to make her calm down, jordan hands tracy two benadryl.
we make it to the bus depot, which has no sign. we are literally standing on the side of the highway. jordan, still in business mode, asks other people if they are waiting for the bus. tracy keeps telling me that she wants to move further down so we can get a better view, i'm telling her that we are in a good spot and assuring her that her toe is not in fact going to fall off. sheer chaos, i'm telling you. our bus was supposed to show up at 7:20. at 7:30 i call the bus and they say 7:40. at 7:50, our bus shows up, barely stopping for us to climb onboard. as soon as we're all on the bus, tracy turns to me, wrapping her blankie (which has seen better days) around her neck like a scarf, and says "i can't believe we're on this thing."
sometimes, i feel the same way about india. everything is a whirlwind, everything is an adventure. i can't believe i'm in this country.
i apologize for such a long post, i know how much my mom likes detailed stories :)
love to you all,
lauren
you are such a good blogger! i am glad you are experiencing head wobbles and i am very jealous about the wedding part.
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