Wanderlust Heaven!

Went into the office on Thursday to finish up a few things.  Things were fairly calm, so I felt fine about ducking out for lunch with Brer Dave at House of Blues near Fenway Park.  We each had a beer and a sandwich and reveled in an hour or so away from our respective offices.  Had a good chat, then paid the tab (over $50 – a buck doesn’t go far in America…) and returned to work.  When I reached the office, I ran into old colleague Jarasa, who worked for me many years ago, when I was still at HQ.  Hadn’t seen her in 4 years, at least, and didn’t know she was still around; nice to see a familiar face, given all the changes.  Promised to stay in touch and meet when I came back to Boston.

Later on, I heard that another old friend, Toby, was around and was looking for me.  We had just missed each other.  That was too bad – would have been great to have seen him.

Dad and I had talked about going to the Bruins’ Game 7 match vs. Carolina that night, and I had a beeline for some (pricey) tix.  But Dad came down with a bad cold, he could hardly talk, so we just decided to stay local and watch sports at Union Street Bar in Newton.  Had the usual American fare – buffalo wings and other assorted meats.  The Red Sox, Bruins and Celts were all on that night – and I watched them all lose as the evening progressed.  A real New England sports bloodbath.  For the Sox, it was just another May game…for the Celts, it was a lost opportunity, and they would eventually lose Game 7 at home…for the Bruins, it was the end of the season.  I avoided the Globe sports section the next morning…

Got a call from a senior colleague in Singapore.  We talked about me moving to the Shanghai office – what that would look like, my package, timing, etc.  Looks like there are much greater revenue opportunities for me there than in Mumbai, so I’m likely to make the move fairly soon.  More on that soon.

Called Christine in the Philippines.  We’ve been talking a lot lately and there may just be something there.  We’ll see.  She’s been filling in as a part-time DJ at a radio station near Dumaguete – but she got embroiled in some office politics and she’s on thin ice right now.  Sounds like she pretty much got sucker-punched by some older, more political folks there.  Ugh.

Am thinking of taking the State Department’s Foreign Service Officer Test, just to have that in my pocket.  They offer it around the world several times each year, and I downloaded the study guide and bought a U.S. history book, just to brush up.  I’m probably relatively weak in that area, although I suspect I’m stronger than 97% of Americans.  Which is not saying much.  I read everything I can get my hands on – newspapers, The New Yorker, The Economist, etc.  I imagine that will put me in good stead for the test, but we’ll have to see.

On Friday had a couple doctor’s appointments.  Asked a cop for directions at one point – he turned around and I had to stifle a giggle, he was a typical ruddy-faced vein-nosed Irish cop.  Nice guy, but what a stereotype…

Had to give a urine sample during my first appointment.  Was shown into the bathroom, but instead of the usual plastic cup, I was told to pee into a funnel that led into a tube; on the wall in front of me was an electronic graph that measured the strength of the “flow.”  A novel and cool way to provide the sample…the brand name of this fascinating device was the “Urodyne 1000.”  I though about asking the doc where I might buy one of these, as I’d like one at home.  But I imagine he’d just tell me to relax and wait for the Urodyne 2000…

That night I moved over to the Hotel Marlowe, which I’d use as my base of operations for my 20^th Tufts University Reunion that weekend.  Was pretty excited about this event, I still fondly recall my 10^th, when I came back from Johannesburg and we used my apartment on Marlborough Street as groove central – we had people crashed all over the flat over the course of that weekend.

I checked in around 5 p.m.  At 6 old friend Jim rocked up and dropped his backpack, we then went to Bambara Bar downstairs to await Bryan and Maggie, who took the train up from Manhattan.  Had a couple drinks with them, and then hopped in a cab to Harvard Square, where we’d be rendezvousing with a bunch of other friends.  Excitement was mounting.

Met up with Radu and Kelly, got a large table downstairs, then Paul and Tim showed up.  Ordered several waves of Grand Gold Margaritas, lots of food, then Kim and Aimee showed up, along with Mike and Drew.  And others…got a bit wild at one point.  The “core gang” fled to the Hong Kong after some time, and got a central stand-up table on which to strategically position several Scorpion Bowls.  I hadn’t been to the Hong Kong – a huge Boston/Cambridge institution – in at least 10 years, for no good reason.  Except perhaps that it’s a place solely designed for getting drunk and picking up.  Wait – I’ve boxed myself in a rhetorical corner here.  Whatever.

We were there for a couple hours – just when we thought of fleeing, Tim bought another Bowl.  Not quite sure how many we downed there – but someone has a set of photos I’d really like to find and burn…

Around midnight we moved on to Sligo’s, a once-infamous dive bar in David Square that has ridden the gentrification of the Square and become a Tufts/bo-bo hangout.  Absolutely packed – in the old days you never had trouble finding a stool.  Most of the crew from the Border showed up eventually, and when they turned on the lights we were pretty much all there, blinking, waiting for the next big thing.

But Boston goes to bed pretty early, and we aren’t getting any younger, so we all decided to throw in the towel and reconvene the following night, Saturday, which was the actual Reunion event.  Jim and I went back to the Marlowe, and the next thing I knew I woke up in all my clothes, a warm beer from the minibar on the nighttable.  Jim was crashed in the desk chair, looking worse for the wear.  We’d expected Jim to crash in my room and not risk driving home, so that wasn’t much of a shock.  But my head was killing me and I wondered how much more I had left – the previous NYC weekend had also been grueling and I was impressed that we used to do this every single weekend.

Jim and I had a sandwich, then he went home to see his kids and change his clothes.  I met up with Dri, who had just arrived from NYC, and we took the T to Tufts and walked around for a while.  Tried but couldn’t get into our old dorms, West and Metcalf Halls.  Peered in and things looked spiffy – except that they had divided my old Metcalf triple and separated the bathroom.  Time does not mean progress.  In general, the school looked great – despite the Great Recession, the powers that be had done enough to keep the place up.  As well they should, with $45,000 tuition these days…

Couldn’t get into Zeta Psi, my fraternity house, so we wandered around the Quad and eventually found ourselves at a huge tent where they were holding the barralaureat ceremonies.  A Sri Lankan-born female graduate delivered the Wendell Phillips speech, and it was superb.  Seems students today are more serious and well-rounded than we were – I’d like another round of university to try and do it differently.

Tufts President Lawrence Bacow gave a good closing speech, drawing on lessons he’s learned from his extensive Boston Marathon experience.  An impressive speaker, and fellow – seems the school’s in good hands.  And that makes me feel good – you don’t want any aspect of your personal brand degraded, unless somehow you’re big into schadenfreude or similar deviant aspects.

Dri peeled off and went back to the Marlowe to powder her nose…I wandered down to the Hillside area and check things out.  Had a great cheeseburger sub at Espresso’s, one of our old haunts.  Said a silent prayer for Jay’s, our Sunday hangout, no longer there.  Saw a couple students lugging cases of domestic beer up the hill – felt like a 20-year flashback.  Got a large coffee at Dunkin’ Donuts (not there years ago), then got a call from John, who was driving to Tufts.  Everyone was converging in time for the 7 p.m. event, a dinner/drinks affair to be held on campus at Curtis Hall.

Walked back up the hill, and decided to check out Zeta Psi once more.  This time the door was open, I went in and met the current president.  Chatted for a bit, then mounted the stairs towards Pebble beach, the rooftop deck where numerous evils had been committed over the decades (none by me).  Basked up there in the twilight, called Dad and told him I had survived the previous night, then went back down and walked to the Campus Center, where I figured some friends would be turning up.

I heard a noise and looked up, just in time to see Charles rushing towards me.  He got me in a semi-painful bear hug, like usual, then released me in order to pay his cabbie.  Charles is always dramatic – I like that about him.  We caught up while searching for beers in advance of our soiree – had trouble tracking one down.  At one point we went outside to sit down and relax, and wound up befriending Bruce, a ’84 grad who was also there for his reunion.  Bruce works for the State Department and knows a fraternity brother of mine (who is urging me to take the Foreign Service Office exam – connect those dots), whose name I had mentioned to Charles – Bruce overheard our conversation and chimed in.

We traded old Tufts stories with Bruce, including the demise of my pre-med career at nearby Dewick (Chemistry) Hall, then went to Bruce’s event, which commenced at 6:30 p.m., a half hour before ours, thus presenting the change to start drinking early.  We walked in and didn’t stop at the reception desk…nobody stopped us and we were in the clear.  We all got drinks, ate some hors d’ouevres, and repeated that sequence.  Jim and John both called, we told them to come in and join us, but they were turned away – we got there just in time to slide in unnoticed.  Managed to down 3 drinks before heading out to our proper event.  Bruce, we owe you.

Our event was good fun – about 150 people turned out and I recognized most of them (and vice versa).  Lots of different groups coming together – I always prided myself on being able to tangentially associate myself with diverse groups without becoming beholden to any of them, and I still feel that’s the case.  So I had lots of random conversations with people during the event (which was far more drinks than dinner), as well as my usual posse (Charles, Jim, John, Dri, etc.) and when it was over around midnight I felt it had been worth the trip over.  And as usual, I felt like I was living the kind of life I want to lead – minimalist, expansive, and adventurous.  Not many of my classmates are living that kind of life, and I’m sure they’re fine with that…many seemed astounded that I’m living in India (“have you seen Slumdog Millionaire?” duh).

Went back to Zeta Psi with Bryan, Maggie, and Dri – not much going on at the fraternity house.  Went up to Pebble Beach, talked with a few of the active brothers, then left and walked to Davis Square.  Went to The Burren for a couple beers, then left just ahead of closing time.  Bryan was locked in for some Chinese food at old fave Golden Light.  Dri and I had walked by earlier in the day, and before we got to the storefront I called out the telephone # (666-9822) correctly – I can still recall all the key delivery joint tel #s from the old days.  I ordered some Peking raviolis, Bryan and Maggie ordered a huge bag of chicken wings and raviolis.  Then we all caught a taxi back to Cambridge, and said our goodbyes.  It had been a fun 30 hours or so and we’d done what we had come to do.  Whatever that was.

It was 2:30 a.m.  I wolfed down the raviolis, which were bricklike…I had a feeling I’d have an ugly morning before my flight back to India, through London.  But I powered through the ravs, tried to drink a lot of water, and then hit the sack for 3 hours or so.  At least Jim wasn’t around – I’d be able to close up shop promptly myself.

The morning was indeed ugly – when the alarm sounded at 5:30 a.m., I left like a stunned fish, like one of those carp in the bathtubs of poor Jewish households during holiday season.  And my stomach and head were aching – those ravs were sitting in my gut and distending it.  Managed to clear those out, a major priority for me; otherwise it would be a gruesomely uncomfortable day of travel.  Wondered how Bryan and Maggie were feeling – they had a feast of sorts in that anonymous brown paper bag.  Drank some more water…finished packing…checked out…and caught a cab to Logan Airport.  I’d be flying American Airlines to London, then connecting to Delhi on Virgin Atlantic.  I was rushing back to India to catch a major conference my group was putting on in Delhi – it was originally scheduled for later that week, but had been moved up, thus necessitating a race back to India.  Fun fun fun.

It was raining a bit, and I soon learned that my flight was delayed.  Uh-oh.  My layover in London was only 90 minutes – a bit close, but generally OK.  Then I learned that our plane had been taken out of service, and that they were flying another plane up from JFK to serve us.  We wound up leaving a good 90 minutes later, and it didn’t look great for my connection.  The flight was fine, I didn’t worry too much, but my initial sentiments were borne out.  When we disembarked in London, an agent handed us hotel vouchers and new tickets for the next morning.  I’d miss the first day of the conference.  Double ugh.

Whatever – I was reasonably serene about this.  Went out and caught the bus to the Renaissance Hotel, nearish Heathrow.  Nice enough place, probably 4 stars.  Wanted to call Ken and see if he was in town, but my mobile wasn’t picking up a signal (cheapo Indian carrier) so I just went to the hotel and chilled.  Had a bite at the downstairs bar, and a couple beers.  Read The Economist.  Went to sleep around midnight, as I had to arise around 5:30 a.m.  Again.  This was becoming a bad, weird habit.  But I got up, felt alright, and caught a bus back to Heathrow.  Had alerted my Indian colleagues about my situation, that was all set.

Flight to Delhi was easy enough.  Read about the end of the Sri Lankan war.  Not too sure this is really all over, you need some sort of political settlement to truly button these things up.  The underlying issues are all still there and eventually trouble will pop up again.  Mark my words.

All that said, I was happy they had killed Prabhakaran, the bloody leader of the LTTE.  With him still around, bloodshed and terrorism was virtually assured.  Without him, moderates might win out and there could be some sort of agreement with the Sinhalese government.  Weird country…can’t wait to visit.

Watched “The Class,” a very good French movie about a teacher’s year with a classroom of difficult students.  Quite thoughtful, and nuanced – in short, very French.  Americans can’t make films like this, at least not well – we’re better at exciting, twisting plots; the French do much better characters and insights.

Landed in Delhi around 11 p.m., on schedule.  My driver was actually there – got in and he asked me where I was going.  Torture.  He should have known that – I powered on my laptop to check the email (I should have written it down beforehand), in the meantime he called his office and eventually got through.  He handed me the phone and the fellow on the other end said “India Islamic Center, right?”  I said “Yes, why don’t you go ahead and tell the driver?!”  Annoying.  He told the driver the place/address and off we went.  Even when the driver shows on time, you have to wait for the other shoe to drop…

Our conference was at the India Islamic Center, and most of us were also staying there.  We got there, they opened the gates and let me in, and I checked in.  Odd mix of conference center and hotel – modest all round, but I suppose for a conference on business models that successfully target consumers at the bottom of the pyramid, it was fitting.  Went into my room – hmmm.  I was sharing with a colleague, as our budget was small.  The room itself was fairly grim – but it at least had aircon, critical in that the nighttime temps were nearly 100 degrees F.  Wandered the halls and explored the IIC, and eventually ran into a few colleagues returning from a late dinner.  Heard that the first day had gone well – was sorry I had missed it.

Eventually went to sleep, and awoke fairly early.  Had to use my Treo modem to check email, as the IIC lacked any sort of Internet access.  Cheapo city.  The conference started and it went very well – lots of interesting attendees, our panels went smoothly, and people were switched-on.  We’d been preparing for this for a few months, even longer actually, and it was gratifying to see it go so well.  I had only a minor role, but that went off fine too and then we were done.

Had a late dinner at Khan Market, at Big Easy, a US-style huge portions type of place, along with Tony G, our colleague who heads up a large pile of work in Riyadh.  No alcohol there, sounds a bit rough.

Had some morning meetings, including one concerning my likely move to Shanghai.  We confirmed this and I got going on making the necessary arrangements.  Took a cab to Delhi’s airport – tried to check in but the system was down.  Took nearly an hour to get my ticket, and I barely made the flight, even though it was held up for a while by this snafu.  India.

Have been noticing that several of my shirts – new and old – have some sort of grease smudge on the shoulders.  The dry cleaners aren’t having much luck removing these.  Not sure where the hell these are coming from – my washing machine?  Getting into dirty cabs?  The dry cleaners’ irons?  Very odd, and disturbing – have already tossed out 2 shirts, and will probably do the same for 2-3 more.  Not cheap.  I am scheduled to go to Shanghai first week of June, for a week or so, and before that will go to Zodiac shirtmakers, buy 3-4 shirts, and leave them in Shanghai – not the world’s cleanest city, but it sure beats Mumbai.

Back in the Mumbai office on Thursday.  Paperwork hell.  Have to get my China entry visa – needed letters from the Shanghai and Mumbai offices for that, along with photos, etc.  Also need to register my new Indian work visa in Mumbai’s Foreign Registration Office – more torture.  Spent nearly the entire day preparing papers and dealing with all the minutiae – for instance, my employment contract letter called me an “Advisor,” but it turns out that “Advisors” pay a higher tax rate than do “Contract Consultants,” so we changed the letter to reflect that language.  Lots of that fun stuff all day Thursday.  I am quite good at getting weird visas so am used to this – still, I hate admin matters and would much rather have client meetings, etc.

Got a flight to Shanghai through Bangkok on Thai Airways – will stop for the weekend in BKK and am happy about that.  My ex-colleague Peter will be there too, he’s a prof in Singapore and we’ve gotten in trouble in places like Joburg and Cape Town together.  Haven’t seen him in at least 7-8 years and I have a feeling we’ll have fun in Bangkok…

Took a cab home.  Stuck in traffic, I watched a fellow sweeping Marine Drive gutters – I was nearly mesmerized by the pace and near-grace of his activity.  I wouldn’t switch places, but hey, at least he did know his place…

Went for a decent run that night.  Then went for dinner at the China Room – an OK place, but I’m already getting sick of the 3-4 places near my flat.  Suppose it’s a good time to move on – when I lived in Mumbai in 1992, I was there for 3 or so months, and was ready to leave at that point (and travel to the Himalayas).  Seems like I’ve got a 3-4 month tolerance for this city, and that’s it.  Good to know that.

Friday involved a daytrip to Delhi.  Easier than it sounds – takes about 5 hours each way, when you factor in traffic, flight delays, etc.  Got up at 3 a.m. and checked email – couldn’t really sleep (still a bit jet-lagged), and if I arose at 4 it might have been a bit tight.  As it was, it was a smooth ride to the airport and I got there very early.  Had some coffee and food, read the paper, and got on the plane.  Which was only delayed 30 minutes – not bad for here.

Was met by a driver when I landed in Delhi.  The name on his placard?  “Migael Salgoni, Monitor Group.”  Wouldn’t have caught that without the firm’s name…I love it.

Had a good client meeting and pretty much wrapped up our project, one of the two I’m heading.  Now we just need to get paid for it.  One more project, which will be done in a week or two, then I’m mostly done with my formal India commitments.  I’ll spend June transitioning to my new Shanghai gig.

Hung out with a senior colleague in the Delhi airport – our flight was of course late, this time 90 minutes late.  Was at least good to have time to chat with him in advance of the weekend, when we’d have some lengthy team meetings to plot out the group’s future.

Got back to Mumbai.  Too tired to run – instead, went to a little Chinese place called Smokin’ Lee’s and had some hakka noodles and garlic prawns, then bought a few bottles of Kingfisher and went back to my flat to drink ‘em and watch a few downloaded episodes of “Heroes.”  Drank a couple beers, and barely made it through 2 episodes, then crashed hard.

When I woke up, it was so light in the room that I thought I’d left the lights on while trying to read (a common mistake of mine).  But no – it was nearly noon.  Hadn’t slept that long in memory.  The jet-lag and ugly hours that week had really done me in, and I was fairly pleased I’d slept so long.  Had to show up at the office but not till 3 p.m.  Got some croissants from Birdie’s Bakery, cabbed it to the office, and checked emails till our meetings started.

In a nutshell, the meetings were about the future of our group.  We’ve found that the revenue opportunities aren’t really here in India, they’re more likely to be found elsewhere – right now, mostly in Africa.  So the team will need to be open to travel if they want to stay in the group.  My situation is unique in that my former gig, in life sciences, is still lucrative and my old colleagues (and clients) still seem to want me back.  And the firm has been pretty clear that we need to follow the revenues, so that’s why I’m moving back east.  There you go.

Took a cab back home.  Saw a Zodiac shirtmakers sign – and thought about the eeriness of my wearing shirts embroidered with the name of a 1960s San Francisco serial killer.  Oh well.

I’m already looking ahead to Shanghai and life sciences work.  I haven’t been socializing that much…I’ve started sending out bye/hi emails to the relevant people…and I’ve been catching up on “24” and “Heroes,” even on weekend nights.  I dare say I won’t be doing that in Shanghai, which has a much better nightlife and where I know tons of people.

I’m writing this entry on Sunday afternoon from my Mumbai office.  Lots of discussions taking place here today concerning peoples’ futures.  Mine is fairly assured, at least in the near-term – and in any event, my financial situation is quite solid.  But I feel for my junior colleagues, who don’t make much and whose futures are very much in doubt.  I’m tough enough and have fired numerous people over the course of my career, but I have to say I generally dislike any sort of finality with regards to people’s careers.  At least this time I don’t have to fire anyone – the team has work for the next 2 months or so, but after that it may be Africa or bust.  I’ll be long gone, in China, by then, but will stay in touch with the team and see if I can help in any way.  Wistful times, indeed.  Over and out.

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