Today I had a pretty big to do list, and I am happy to say that I did all of it. This afternoon, before Bob went to work, (he works from 1p-10p to be able to collaborate better with his office in Louisville), we went to Ambience Mall. It is reportedly the largest mall in Asia, and although I've only been to a few malls in Asia, I do admit that this one is pretty large (Kimberly, don't get too excited. It's still smaller than MOA). Before Bob went to work, we had breakfast at Haldiram's and got some passport photos made. Breakfast pictures below :)
After a long day of shopping, I'd found everything I wanted and I was ready to head home and relax. All that stood between me and a long, warm shower was an autorickshaw.
Here is the only problem with riding in a rickshaw. Well, the only two problems. The first is that it gets really hot, which will eventually be bearable. And the summer is almost over here too, so that will help. The second, and larger, problem is that the driver usually only has a glimmer of an idea about where you want to go. I've learned in my short time here to use as few words as possible. They only get confused.
Me: Hello sir. Sector 42?
Sir: Sector 53?
Me: No. 42.
Sir: Ok.
Me: Kitne? He gives me a blank stare. How much? (Kitne means how much in Hindi, his first language.)
Sir: How how much? 250 rupees.
After some bargaining, I got him down to 200 rupees, which is about $4. We drove for about 30 minutes, and finally he pulled over to the side of the road.
Sir: You get out here.
Me: Um, what's that?
Sir: This is Sector 46. You live here.
Me: I said 42! *I know yelling doesn't help people understand a foreign language, but I thought I'd give it a try.
Sir. You said 46. *The screaming clearly wasn't helpful.
Me: I said 42.
Sir: 46.
Me: Sir, I live in Sector 42.
Sir: You said 46.
Me: Alright. I'll just get another rickshaw. Thanks.
Sir: No miss. I take you.
During the first ride, I was vaguely aware that we were going the wrong way, but I thought I was just panicking, or freaking out for no reason, so I didn't say anything. Joke's on me. The sectors are about 10km apart, so the little jerk charged me 100 extra rupees. I know it isn't much, but it wasn't my fault either.
When I got home, I was soaking wet, and when I got to our apartment, I was so glad to be standing at the door, steps away from that shower. And then my key didn't work. This is the first time I tried it, and it didn't work. I tried for about 10 minutes, standing in that infernal hallway, which isn't air conditioned. Which is fine when you are about to step inside your air conditioned apartment, and not ok when you are locked out. To make a long story short, I called the main office, and three men came. They didn't not speak English, and couldn't get the door open. Right before I called Bob to come home and let me in, one of the men finally made it work. It was gratifying that they couldn't open the door either, but that gratification cost me an hour in the 100 degree hallway.
Anyway, it was my first day alone in India. At least I have something to remember it by.
Tomorrow: The FRO (Foreign Registration Office) which many immigrants in India (including Bob) report as their worst experience ever. Can't wait!
Goodnight!
k, with love
After a long day of shopping, I'd found everything I wanted and I was ready to head home and relax. All that stood between me and a long, warm shower was an autorickshaw.
Here is the only problem with riding in a rickshaw. Well, the only two problems. The first is that it gets really hot, which will eventually be bearable. And the summer is almost over here too, so that will help. The second, and larger, problem is that the driver usually only has a glimmer of an idea about where you want to go. I've learned in my short time here to use as few words as possible. They only get confused.
Me: Hello sir. Sector 42?
Sir: Sector 53?
Me: No. 42.
Sir: Ok.
Me: Kitne? He gives me a blank stare. How much? (Kitne means how much in Hindi, his first language.)
Sir: How how much? 250 rupees.
After some bargaining, I got him down to 200 rupees, which is about $4. We drove for about 30 minutes, and finally he pulled over to the side of the road.
Sir: You get out here.
Me: Um, what's that?
Sir: This is Sector 46. You live here.
Me: I said 42! *I know yelling doesn't help people understand a foreign language, but I thought I'd give it a try.
Sir. You said 46. *The screaming clearly wasn't helpful.
Me: I said 42.
Sir: 46.
Me: Sir, I live in Sector 42.
Sir: You said 46.
Me: Alright. I'll just get another rickshaw. Thanks.
Sir: No miss. I take you.
During the first ride, I was vaguely aware that we were going the wrong way, but I thought I was just panicking, or freaking out for no reason, so I didn't say anything. Joke's on me. The sectors are about 10km apart, so the little jerk charged me 100 extra rupees. I know it isn't much, but it wasn't my fault either.
When I got home, I was soaking wet, and when I got to our apartment, I was so glad to be standing at the door, steps away from that shower. And then my key didn't work. This is the first time I tried it, and it didn't work. I tried for about 10 minutes, standing in that infernal hallway, which isn't air conditioned. Which is fine when you are about to step inside your air conditioned apartment, and not ok when you are locked out. To make a long story short, I called the main office, and three men came. They didn't not speak English, and couldn't get the door open. Right before I called Bob to come home and let me in, one of the men finally made it work. It was gratifying that they couldn't open the door either, but that gratification cost me an hour in the 100 degree hallway.
Anyway, it was my first day alone in India. At least I have something to remember it by.
Tomorrow: The FRO (Foreign Registration Office) which many immigrants in India (including Bob) report as their worst experience ever. Can't wait!
Goodnight!
k, with love
Please make sure you write me everyday. What I mean is, I assume every post on this blog is dedicated just to me.. I think that is normal.
ReplyDeleteWhen they try to charge me extra, and I know that it is completely unjustified, I just walk away (after paying the agreed-upon price, of course!). So far it's worked - at least, no one has chased me! I saw first hand on a couple of occasions what rickshaw rides should really cost, and it's nowhere near what we pay. For the record, I typically pay Rs 100 from Sikandarpur to Ron's apartment, in Sector 54. It's an inflated price, of course, but that's to be expected, and now it's been established as my going rate so I can't really pay less. They always call out to me when they see me coming down the metro steps. "Sector 54, 100 rupees!"
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