December 31
Feeling so laid back, I'm in India and feeling groovy.
Well India has a cure for that.
After a breakfast of puri, curry and chutney, my favorite high calorie guilty treat in India I'm off to the bus station feeling pretty on top of things because I managed to get the rickshaw driver to turn on his meter.The Super Delux is loading, no chance, completely full, there is an Andrhra Pradesh bus leaving in an hour and a half. Go to buy a ticket. All booked till three. Decide to try my luck with the one o'clock one anyway, someone might have given up. No such luck. The bus driver kicks us all off and decides to load from his handy dandy printed list. As I'm struggling to get my bulky bags off the bus again a beautiful young Indian girl offers to help me and asks me if I would like to share a taxi.I don't want another two hours in the midday Indian sun.Split four ways the fare is reasonable. So off I go with a very nice young couple from Kerala and the lady's father. Thank you so much Sneha and Vipindas.
The taxi driver is young and very modern, India Shining, you can tell by the elaborately embroidered racing jacket he's wearing. But he hasn't been to Puttaparthi before, keeps asking every one at cross roads the way to Puttaparthi. Bet it sounded like a pretty good fare when he started out. Out past the airport the roads are pretty good, fast four lane asphalt, but pretty soon things narrow down to where those big busses have to negotiate a peace treaty with each other to pass going opposite directions. And of course everybody has to weave around those guys carrying a goat on a moped, cyclists, bullock carts and odd constructions of rocks and marigold petals in the middle of the road. The other taxi drivers are all giving the newby a crash course in Kamakazi driving techniques, horns blaring as they bull on by. It was a fun drive.
Anyways we made it. I had hardly any rupees left, I was planning to go to the ATM on the edge of Puttaparthi that I usually use to replenish because I hate the money changers exchange rate, my own bank gives the going international rate. Anyways the machine tells me my card is invalid, that bank has stopped honoring Cirrus. What fun. To make a long story short, got it all sorted out with only the usual amount of hassel a person can expect in India.
Found Remi in the usual place at the usual time. He had found me an apartment till April, 2000 Rs, about $55 a month. Signed the papers for that. Got a little bit of running around to get settled tomorrow, but I'm basically here.
Love one cultural difference. Remi is promising to make me run up and down a lot of stairs to help loose all that unsightly fat I put on eating Ram's delicious cooking for eight months. My Indian gentleman friends are happy to see me looking fat and healthy and sexy again. Cool. I like that attitude.
Anyways, quite enough running up and down stairs and lugging heavy bags around for one day, I feel those leg cramps coming on already.
Feeling so laid back, I'm in India and feeling groovy.
Well India has a cure for that.
After a breakfast of puri, curry and chutney, my favorite high calorie guilty treat in India I'm off to the bus station feeling pretty on top of things because I managed to get the rickshaw driver to turn on his meter.The Super Delux is loading, no chance, completely full, there is an Andrhra Pradesh bus leaving in an hour and a half. Go to buy a ticket. All booked till three. Decide to try my luck with the one o'clock one anyway, someone might have given up. No such luck. The bus driver kicks us all off and decides to load from his handy dandy printed list. As I'm struggling to get my bulky bags off the bus again a beautiful young Indian girl offers to help me and asks me if I would like to share a taxi.I don't want another two hours in the midday Indian sun.Split four ways the fare is reasonable. So off I go with a very nice young couple from Kerala and the lady's father. Thank you so much Sneha and Vipindas.
The taxi driver is young and very modern, India Shining, you can tell by the elaborately embroidered racing jacket he's wearing. But he hasn't been to Puttaparthi before, keeps asking every one at cross roads the way to Puttaparthi. Bet it sounded like a pretty good fare when he started out. Out past the airport the roads are pretty good, fast four lane asphalt, but pretty soon things narrow down to where those big busses have to negotiate a peace treaty with each other to pass going opposite directions. And of course everybody has to weave around those guys carrying a goat on a moped, cyclists, bullock carts and odd constructions of rocks and marigold petals in the middle of the road. The other taxi drivers are all giving the newby a crash course in Kamakazi driving techniques, horns blaring as they bull on by. It was a fun drive.
Anyways we made it. I had hardly any rupees left, I was planning to go to the ATM on the edge of Puttaparthi that I usually use to replenish because I hate the money changers exchange rate, my own bank gives the going international rate. Anyways the machine tells me my card is invalid, that bank has stopped honoring Cirrus. What fun. To make a long story short, got it all sorted out with only the usual amount of hassel a person can expect in India.
Found Remi in the usual place at the usual time. He had found me an apartment till April, 2000 Rs, about $55 a month. Signed the papers for that. Got a little bit of running around to get settled tomorrow, but I'm basically here.
Love one cultural difference. Remi is promising to make me run up and down a lot of stairs to help loose all that unsightly fat I put on eating Ram's delicious cooking for eight months. My Indian gentleman friends are happy to see me looking fat and healthy and sexy again. Cool. I like that attitude.
Anyways, quite enough running up and down stairs and lugging heavy bags around for one day, I feel those leg cramps coming on already.
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