Wanderlust Heaven!

I had a business trip to Hyderabad that was emblematic of doing business in India.  I had a couple solid meetings with companies that, shall we say, are in the social change space.  I got a good sense of what they do and their impact – pretty impressive.  But wrapped around those meetings was a grueling day in a hired car…my driver didn’t seem to know the city all that well, and it seems that everything in the city is about as far apart as imaginable.  I barely made my two meetings…and didn’t make my flight back to Mumbai.

I left my final meeting on time to make my flight – at least according to the guy with whom I met.  He got me into my car and told the driver the time of my flight…I expected things were set and I kicked back and did some reading.  I checked the time a while later, it was about 90 minutes before my flight departure.  I had no idea how far the airport was, and asked the driver, who told me ‘an hour.’  Uh-oh.  He had been driving leisurely and I had figured he knew best, but now I got nervous.  I told him that I had to be at the airport earlier than it now seemed likely, and he stepped on the gas.

At one point, now about 50 minutes before my flight time, I spotted a sign that said ‘Airport – 24 km.’  Torture.  I got on the phone to the Mumbai office assistant and told her that it didn’t look good, and asked her to make me a backup booking, which she did.

The final stretch run to the airport was close, and I might actually have made it, except that the driver smacked into the back of a truck.  It wasn’t too bad, and the truck driver didn’t seem to notice – we backed up and went around him.  But we had probably lost a couple minutes and that was enough to skupper things.  We pulled into the airport about 12 minutes before my flight departure…I rushed in and went to the Air India desk…they checked to see if I could make the flight…nope.  The plane was pushing back by now.  Oh well.  Good thing my well-honed sense of disaster had kicked in – when I know something’s not right, I’m correct 99% of the time.  But I also am a master at making lemonade out of lemons – frequent readers of this slog will know that.  So I checked in for the backup flight and got a beer at the bar.  Hey, this is India – you’ve gotta be prepared for nearly anything.  And the annoying day of driving around with a clueless chauffeur seemed humorous in retrospect…

Also somewhat funny – last weekend was spent searching around for Alexander the Great’s tomb in Alexandria, Egypt.  This week and weekend were spent pondering the outlines of my life and future, including work.  Talk about shifting gears, baby…

One of the things I didn’t much like about my week in Mumbai – having to shave every day.  I shaved my face for the last time in a hoped-for while on Friday morning, then met my b-school friend Rajan at his workplace for a cup of coffee.  Rajan hadn’t known that I was in town for job-related meetings – he seemed pleasantly surprised when I told him.  He had just expected that I was around for another lazy season in Goa, like the past couple years.  Again, shifting gears…

En route to my final meetings of the week, I noticed that my pricey Maui Jim shades felt a bit funny.  Took them off and examined them – the bridge seemed to be bent.  Tried to put in back in the regular shape and that didn’t help…the glasses had somehow gotten badly bent and were basically shot.  I don’t think I had sat on them, I’m usually very careful with these babies – anyway, I now needed some new shades.  And these were only about 8 months old – not good.

Last few meetings went well.  I’m interested in the job, they seem interested in bringing me on board.  So now my application enters ‘the system.’  We’ll see what happens – stay tuned.

Went out to do some errands.  First up – new shades.  It’s endlessly sunny in India and I refuse to be without a decent pair of shades.  A friend recommended a shop, I went there and picked up a mid-priced pair of sunglasses made by some Austrian company called Silhouette.  Good enough – but they don’t wrap around my ears the way Maui Jims do and I have a feeling I’ll buy another pair of those when in the U.S. in a few months.

Had lunch at the brilliant Mahesh Lunch Home.  The place was full – recession is coming this way, certainly, but perhaps it hasn’t hit home just yet, and/or some folks here just want to eat some damn good fish.  I had the gassi, a white fish (‘Indian salmon’) in a tangy sauce.  Superb – I can’t visit Mumbai without a trip to Mahesh.

Visited Crosswords and Oxford bookstores in a vain attempt to find Paul Theroux’s old books ‘Riding the Iron Rooster’ and ‘The Great Railway Bazaar.’  He just came out with the sequel to the latter, after a space of 20 or so years, and reading the review piqued my interest.  I’ve only read his ‘Dark Star Safari’ but thought it was one of the best travel books ever.  If you’re just dying to get me a Hanukkah gift, well, consider yourself deputized.

Went back to my hotel to relax a bit before a night out.  Thought about the week, and about my broader Mumbai experience, which stretches back to the summer of 1992.  When I came here to work that summer, I was 24 years old, and didn’t know what to expect.  I wound up having one of the top 2-3 summers of my life, one that has been influential in my life for many reasons.  Now I was back here, perhaps soon to start another gig in Mumbai, at the age of 41.  There’s a certain symmetrical beauty to the entire story, I must admit.

Went out that night with Rajan and the gang, most of whom I knew from way back.  Jatin had left me a guest pass for the Bombay Gymkhana Club, the usual Friday night place to meet.  Had lots of fun catching up with everyone, including the irrepressibly Keshav, a financial whiz who started his own financial services firm a year ago and is now paying the price.  He’s sucking wind – the main Indian index is down more than 50%, and everything is in flux.  Still, he didn’t seem to be too down at the mouth, at least not after he had downed a bunch of drinks.  Mumbai has a pretty exuberant drinking crowd, as it did back in ’92, and if I were to move here I’d need that sort of social outlet after a busy work-week.

Had some late-night eats at Ayu – the kebabs there are much better than those at Bade Miye.  On this trip alone I’d been introduced to Britannia, the Parsi lunch joint, and now Ayu.  A good city has the late-night places, and Mumbai had obviously improved on this count over the years…

As it had in numerous other ways.  In 1992 there was no email, no mobilephones, and it was nearly impossible to get a recent Western newspaper.  I had no idea how the Red Sox were doing that summer.  And the phones didn’t work too well.  It felt like being on Mars.  And while elements still felt extraplanetary, you could now learn and get things done rapidly.  My current trip here would have collapsed in the absence of mobilephones.

Got up the next morning and went for a walk on Cuffe Parade, where the Taj sits.  The police had removed some of the roadblocks and it was possible to get fairly close to the Gateway of India and the Taj, which looked alright but quite forlorn.  Tragic, in a sense, but also still proud and defiant.  You could say the same for Mother India…

Then went back to the hotel and packed up to head to Goa.  This is one of my very few traditions, and I was excited to be heading back there.  The beaches, the music, seeing friends Lisa and Richard, staying at their hotel/resto Bean Me Up – these things feel a natural part of the winter season for me.

My flight planning left something to be desired.  December 6^th turned out to be the 16^th anniversary of the destruction of the Babri Masjid mosque by Hindu nationalists; it was also the death-anniversary of Dr. Ambedkar, the patron saint of the Dalits (untouchables).  Some mayhem was to be expected on the roads, but I got to the airport without a hitch and made my flight.  Nice to make a flight every now and then…but actually, I think I’ve only missed 3 or so flights in my life.  One from Chicago to Boston back in the early 90s, the one from Hyderabad-Mumbai on Thursday, and one somewhere in between those two.  Seriously.

Because of the ‘anniversaries,’ the airport had 6 layers of security, which succeeded mainly in slowing things down.  That was fine – I’m happy to have lots of security, particularly these days.  But I noticed that one fellow sort of blew by the last layer, right before we got on the bus that took us to the plane.  My sense was that he was high-caste or a big shot and the security fellow was not – and that these dynamics made it very difficult for the guard to act otherwise.  Disturbing – I almost told the passenger to get back in line and get checked like the rest of us, but in truth I hadn’t seen the entire scene and might have lacked some context.  So I kept my mouth shut.  Perhaps not the right move.  Then again, five layers of security was probably enough, and the guy might just have been annoyed by all of it, so that may have been the proper context.  Am I rationalizing??

Got to Goa…took a cab to Bean Me Up…felt like a slice of home.  Was met by Arjun, the long-time chef, who handed me the key to my room.  A bit of confusion ensued about which was my room, Lisa had arranged a room and left my motorbike key inside – in the end she came over and sorted things out.  Then we went over to her crib, where Richard was hanging out, and we talked, ate, drank for the rest of the night.  I had intended to go for a twilight swim, but this was even more fun.

Slept very late the next morning – till 10:30 or so, the latest in memory.  Time to relax after a fairly demanding week.  Or at least relatively demanding – I shouldn’t grossly exaggerate.  Had the excellent scrambled tofu for breakfast…went for a swim at Little Vagator beach…a huge salad for lunch at BMU…a solid nap…then dinner.  Afterwards went to Primrose with Lisa to play pool – she won two of three, I played like crap but didn’t mind at all.  Just nice to be back here.

Got up at a normal hour the next morning, did some reading – had to work through my recent mail drop of 10+ magazines.  Took a New Yorker over to the Shore Bar, one of my favorite hangouts in Anjuna.  Sat there and read, ate, and swam for a few hours.  Thoroughly enjoyable.  The place was pretty full and the vibe was great.  Afterwards, went back to BMU and then went for a run, my first in ages.  Not too bad – legs were springy and strong, but my stamina was crap and I barely made it back to BMU.  Humbling.  And day two would probably be worse, I’d be sore. Oh well.  Gotta get back on the wagon.

Swung by Nine Bar after dinner – same as it ever was.  Same thoompa-thoompa Boogie Nights sort of tunes, same stoned crew of groovers.  But it was pretty fun nonetheless.  Time just seems to slow down here – could’ve been 1996, or 2000, or 2015 in there.

Went for a walk behind BMU the next morning, with my iPod.  Wanted to stretch my legs and check out the hillside, and work through a few podcasts.  The views from the hill were good – so good that I nearly stepped on some fresh buffalo patties drying in the sun.  Nice.

Had lunch at Souza Lobo, THE home of the kingfish tandoori.  I consumed an entire fish myself – the people at the table behind me were astounded when the fish arrived, and they were either impressed or dumbfounded by my strong showing.  I need to have one of these whenever in Goa.

The cops had been bothering Lisa and Richard, in their usual fashion.  L&R had provided their paperwork for BMU, but the cops asked for it again.  Lisa told them to shove it, over the phone – the cop said he’d file a case against her, and put her in jail.  Ugly.  Finally ‘her cop’ called, and she straightened things out with him.  They rotate the cops here, and each year there’s a fresh batch with a hand out.  Very frustrating.  Not the sort of thing I’m looking to have to deal with if I come work in India again…

Took another nap – went for another run.  Went down to Chapora Village at night for a beer.  Things were quiet, as they seem to be all round Goa.  The global recession is hitting pretty hard here, tourism is down substantially and BMU isn’t immune either.

Went to the weekly Anjuna Market on Wednesday.  The usual crap on sale…I bought nothing.  The market was quiet – the downturn plus the recent terrorism were obviously to blame.  I wonder if some people thought the market would be closed for the week – they had closed the Saturday night bazaar because of the Mumbai attacks.  Or perhaps, more likely, they feared that the Anjuna Market would be a target.  Eerie.

Got back to BMU.  Had a couple cocktails with Lisa – she was teaching her new bartenders how to make margaritas and pina coladas, and each year I’m the designated crash test dummy.  Not a bad job, at that.  And the drinks were pretty solid.

I said that time really slows down here…and that will be reflected in the length of this entry, which is nearly finished.  Part of it is that I know Goa so well that there’s not a huge amount of novelty to share with you…but it’s also such a relaxing spot that I don’t bother to do that much while here.

After a few attempts on Skype, I called United Airlines on my mobilephone and booked a round-the-world ticket for early 2009.  If I came back to work, it wouldn’t be till early March, so with that knowledge in hand I was able to work out a good plan.  I’ll head from Tel Aviv to Bangkok around Jan. 10^th (with one night layover in Istanbul – no objections to that), to Manila a week later, to Oz in early Feb, and finally to New York/Boston on Feb. 9^th.  The last segment would take me back to Tel Aviv, but I expect to blow off that one and book something else – to India, or elsewhere.  We’ll see.

Drove to Panjim, the state capital, just to get some air and for a change of scenery.  Panjim is a pleasant little city and I like getting there from time to time.  Had lunch at Hotel Venite, one of the cool little restos in the city.  Drove up to the hill Altinho district for some views (didn’t have my camera, but I’ve posted some shots from this area in past entries), and then over to the INOX cinema to see what was playing.  Then back up to Vagator.  En route I drove behind a water truck for a stretch, and watched a thin trickle of water dripping from the spout in back.  During the course of the drive that truck must have lost a lot of potable water.  Sort of a metaphor for India itself…

Felt like a swim, drove over to Vagator Beach.  Walked to the far end…it was low tide, lower than I remembered seeing here before, and it was possible to walk quite far, past the main swimming areas.  Walked all the way to the Chapora River, and from there I sat and watched seagulls feasting on Ridley Turtle eggs across the river and beautiful Morjim Beach.  I’d often seen this sight from Morjim, and from Chapora Fort, but I’d never stood right here, on this side of the river, and it was captivating.  Again, didn’t have my camera, but did post some photos of the birds in past blogs.

Then went for a swim.  The water this year is bathwater warm – like it was two years ago, and warmer than it was last year, when it felt a bit chilly.  Not sure if there’s any sort of El Nino/La Nina to explain this temp diff, but there must be something going on…

Bean Me Up was very busy for dinner – primarily because there was a table of 30 ‘yogis’.  After the meal they wanted to split the bill – wait for it – 30 ways.  Unreal.  The poor rookie waiter got nailed by this – he had to stand with each of them, at the cashier, one at a time, going through their part of the total bill, to which Lisa had (normal biz practice) added 10% mandatory service.  The cheapo yogis put the waiter through the ringer, sometimes bitching about the 10% tip, and the entire process took well over an hour.  I watched the entire thing from a barstool and was blown away by their pettiness.  Yoga isn’t just a series of asanas (poses), there are 7 other ‘limbs’ to the tree of yoga and while my memory is a bit hazy right now, I’m pretty sure that there are elements of kindness and community and compassion – things which were nowhere to be seen as these so-called yogis parsed the bill and displayed a shocking penury.  Reminded me of my time at the Border Café, in Harvard Square, many years ago, when the local Mormons would come in and order the menu items which were the intersection of 1) largest volume and 2) cheapest price.  And they’d leave a few coins for the tip.  Charming.

Seeing things like this makes me feel it’s time to move on – perhaps a week here is sufficient, at least for this year.  I’ve got some moving parts in my life right now, and I think I’d chafe if I were to park myself here for weeks and months.  I feel like traveling at a decent clip over the next 2+ months – I want to check out Sinai, see Israel, then stop in old, familiar spots en route to the U.S.  So hold on tight, dear readers – the next few weeks probably won’t be boring, and my blog posts wil probably be pretty damn long.  Over and out.

This entry was posted on Thursday, December 11th, 2008 at 10:10 pm and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.