Hannah BW

Mumbai: Day 38

Without further ado, I unveil to you a tentative itinerary. And it goes like this:

Mumbai-Agra (train)
Agra-Amritsar (train)
Amritsar-Dharamsala (bus)
Dharamsala-Shimla (bus)
Shimla-Jodhpur (train)
Jodhpur-Udaipur (bus)
Udaipur-Bundi (bus)
Bundi-Ajmer (bus)
Ajmer-Pushkar (bus)
Pushkar-Jaipur (bus)
Jaipur-Mumbai (train)
Mumbai-New York (teleport)

Insane? Yes, but it covers all the bases, including: the greatest monument in the world, the legacies of the British Raj and partition, Tibet in exile, and gemstones. Just kidding, I can't afford any of those. I'm not worried about my itinerary, if only because being here has made me a flexible, go with the flow kind of person. Kind of. So if I get tired or run out of time, I'll cancel a segment of the trip and not freak out about it. Just you watch.

Okay, now back to my humdrum real life. On Saturday I took the train up to Bandra with a friend and went shopping. The train was nowhere near as thrilling as I had expected it to be. Coming home was slightly more chaotic (rush hour), but still not the death trap I'd feared. Then again, I was riding in the ladies' first class car. That's a Bloch-Wehba, riding in style. The most exciting thing I found in Bandra? Mexican food. But I couldn't bring myself to order it. I had a gut feeling it wouldn't suffice--I mean, "masala quesadilla"? Puh-leeze. Channa paneer it is. Then I watched The Departed on television. From what I've heard, that's a movie I don't have to be ashamed of liking. Sunday was eggs florentine, a walk around the neighborhood, and Standard Operating Procedure. So much for not reading "work books'' while on "vacation.''

Before I forget, I've noted some new Indian-isms. Heard recently: "Nakshatra, shift back, there is a lot of place.'' Shift=move. Place=room. Also, when meaning "one at a time,'' people usually say, ''one-one.'' So, "One-one student will come to the board and write the word.'' Additionally, where Americans say "Six into forty-two is seven'' to mean division, Indians often say ''Six into seven is forty-two,'' meaning multiplication. You can imagine how complicated this makes my job.

I've been feeling marginally guilty about the amount of television I've been watching, but I've also gained a new appreciation for commercials. There's one for a matrimony website called Jeevasanthi, where the father follows his daughter around with a turban and plops it on her dates' heads to see if they're ''the one.'' Dad, if you did this, maybe I'd have a boyfriend, but probably not. I like you just the way you are. Thank you for never coming on dates with me. Also, thank you YouTube, for allowing me to share this commercial with you.

posted by HBW @ 7:15 AM