Wanderlust Heaven!

For a couple days after the weekend trip to Hubli, I was bloated and sluggish…South Indian food is not easy stuff to take.  I have to laugh when Westerners go on about loving Indian food – they probably eat the stuff once a month, or quarter, and they eat heavily sanitized/Westernized fare.  When I left India after my stint in ’92 I stayed away from Indian food for months, if not longer, and now I remember why…

Got a voicemail on Skype from Dad, on Patriots’ Day.  He mentioned the Boston Marathon, and I thought about what a great day that is in Boston every year.  A morning Red Sox game, then the Marathon mayhem all over town the rest of the day.  Being in Mumbai and thinking about the Boston Marathon – talk about an out-of-body experience.

Flew up to Delhi for some meetings.  The domestic airport here is in a neighborhood called Santa Cruz, which sounds decidedly non-Indian, and a lot nicer than the reality.  It’s a crappy place full of shanties. Not sure where “Santa Cruz” came from, but it sounds pretty good…

Hard to stay clean here – every day I notice some stain on my shirt, or dust (or worse) on my shoes.  Gotta focus on other things and benefits from being in India – if you’re a neatness freak, don’t come.

Kingfisher Airlines has alluring flight attendants…I try to fly that carrier whenever possible, despite the annoying ‘welcome video’ they show at the start of each flight.  The owner, a booze baron called “Dr.” Vijay Mallya, is the subject of the video and is a windbag who thinks he’s god.  He has as much money as god, but after seeing the video a few times, you want to retch.  Talk about lacking any sense of self-awareness or humility.

In Delhi, my taxi was a huge, classic old Ambassador.  Nice change of pace from the little dumpy cabs in Mumbai…with doors that only open 45-50 degrees, thereby necessitating yoga-like maneuvers just to enter and exit.  Good thing I just got my yoga practice going again after 3 months off…it’s depressing to get a sense of how badly your body can deteriorate when you’re not using 95% of the muscles.  Even running isn’t enough when you get older…you’ve gotta do 3-4 different sorts of exercise just to stay toned.  Needless to say, not many people here are doing that…

Had an odd client meeting in Delhi – the client reversed direction on an important program element and threw us a real curveball.  He seemed pretty nonchalant about the whole matter and I’m not sure he grasped the implications of the change.  We tried to help him with this, but he’s with a large bureaucratic organization and I think he’s now content-free and is focused on process.  Ugh.  A huge different from my current gig and the “old days” is the nature of the clients – corporate folks are far nimbler and aggressive, whereas the NGO/foundation/government types (admittedly, there are a few segments in that lump) are often unfocused paper pushers.  That will take some getting used to…

Had to get up at 4:30 a.m. to make my early flight back to Mumbai.  Four hours of sleep – I wasn’t looking or feeling all that spry.  Got in my taxi and headed to the airport.  We were chased by dogs for the first kilometer or so – not a fun way to start the day.  I’ve had at least two dangerous experiences with wild Indian dogs and am not seeking a third anytime soon…

Read that Mark “Bird” Fidrych passed away.  He was a quirky baseball pitcher who captivated the sports world in the mid-70s, then faded away as quickly as he came on the scene.  Seems he had an accident on his farm, and was crushed under a vehicle.

Have been hearing of other youngish sports figures with poor health – Danny Ainge, the 50-year-old Celtics president, just had a mild heart attack.  And Dennis Johnson, a former Celtics player (like Ainge) died of a heart attack a couple years ago, in his early 50s.  What’s going on?  Was it drugs…are these guys not staying in shape…or what?  You’d think that athletes would not be dropping dead at such young ages.  Perhaps it’s simply that you hear about these deaths, and that the overall incidence is nothing out of the ordinary.  Still, it’s a bit unnverving to hear about men 10 years older than I having heart attacks.

There are two Indian states – West Bengal and Kerala – with “Communist” governments.  In these two states there are few NGOs and other “outside” agents, unlike the rest of India…and I wonder why.  Kerala in particular is quite well-off for India – nearly 100% literacy, decent health statistics, etc.  West Bengal is not as successful, but still better off than some other states.  This is a chicken-and-egg question – do the Communists do a good job with education, health, etc., or do the people, having a good life, feel free to elect Communists because they feel able to move beyond fixation on the basics of life?

The doormen at my building seem to have “adopted” me.  They look out for me when I’m coming and going, getting the elevator for me, etc.  I detect the hidden hand of my landlord, Mr. G., in this, and appreciate his fatherly ways.  A very lucky man I am…

Met colleague/friend Nikhil at Trishna, the city’s best seafood resto.  Have been meaning for weeks to catch up with Nikhil, and to do so at Trishna.  The stars aligned and here we were.  He’s a big boy and so am I , so we left no plate unturned – rock-salt prawns, Hyderabadi pomfret, and the signature dish, butter black pepper garlic crabs.  Awesome stuff – I was oozing butter and garlic as I waddled out.  One of my favorite places to eat on the planet…

Next night, was invited by Mr. G. to his pad for dinner with the family.  Nice gesture, I went over there at 8 p.m. and spent some time chatting with his extended family, while they plied me with whiskey.  I’m still getting to grips with the fact that I have a landlord who likes to sit down and get drunk with me – I think back to past landlords, who were all either eminently forgettable or completely detestable individuals.

Had a great veg meal with Mr. G. and much of his family.  Superb flat – there’s a wing for each of his sons’ families, and some very nice art and artifacts all around the place.  I won’t venture to guess what the flat is worth.

Was looking forward to getting away on the weekend, to Goa, finally.  Had been planning this for weeks but had been too busy.  Friday looked to be a slow day, and the morning was indeed quite manageable – then, by midday, I was nose to the grindstone.  Part of it was external factors – I had to change my Hong Kong mailing address to India, and that involved paperwork, scanning, and mailing, for a few institutions.  Ugh.  Also needed to do an online visa application, as I’ll be in NYC shortly and need to get my work visa while there.  In line with that, had to fill out some contract paperwork.  Everything seems to happen at the same time – and unfortunately, even a good assistant can only handle so much, you need to personally do most of these types of forms.  I loathe administration so was in a black mood as I raced to finish things up and get out of the office to head to “Santa Cruz” airport.

Was running a bit late…and had to move some things to in-cab phone calls.  Would have been nice to chill in the taxi and listen to some music (that practice has fallen off my map lately), but spent the entire cab ride on calls with clients and colleagues.  Was completely spent by the time I got to the airport…rolled out of the cab and up to the check-in counter and was hardly able to speak.

Friday traveling is for suckers, really.  While on sabbatical I had assiduously avoided traveling on Fridays and Sundays, but now I was back in the cattle ring.  The traffic en route to the airport was awful, and the airport was mobbed.  Didn’t have time to do more than wolf down a chicken burger before getting in the security line…was hoping to buy an iPod speaker system but that fell by the wayside.

Slept on the 45-minute flight to Goa.  Was really looking forward to some time there, even though it was just a weekend and I’ve gotten tremendously spoiled by my time off – my unit of measure during my sabbatical was months, not weekends.  Oh well.  Gotta be happy with your lot.

Took a cab from the airport to Vagator, to Lisa and Richard’s place.  You’ll probably recall Lisa and Richard as the proprietors of Bean Me Up, and good friends of mine from all my time there.  They’d closed up the hotel/resto for the season and were now enjoying well-deserved downtime.  Got to their place around 8 p.m. and it felt like home.  Gin and tonics were produced, we caught up and gossiped about Lisa’s staff, and eventually drove down to Calangute to tackle some kingfish tandooris at Souza Lobo, a Goa institution.  Had a few beers along with our prawns and fish – it had been a very nice week as far as seafood ingestion was concerned.

Slept soundly that night.  Woke up on Saturday, had some breakfast, and moved over to Little Vagator Beach for a few hours.  Got a beach chair and umbrella, read the paper, listened to some music, and just retreated from stress.  Swam a couple times, but otherwise did nothing.  Later on I walked on Vagator Beach, to the far north end, where few people go…I watched five cows/bulls walk single-file over some rocks to the main beach.  Cows and Indian beaches – talk about an absolutely classic scene.

Back at the house, watched some CNN with Lisa and Richard and discussed what’s happening in Pakistan.  Quite concerning to them – if the Taliban takes over, and gets their hands on Pak’s nukes, it won’t be pretty.  They’re thinking of moving from Goa if that even becomes remotely possible – and are spending a couple months in the States starting shortly, seeing family but also doing a bit of scouting.  They’ve been in Goa for 25 years and that is a long long time.  India (even Goa) can grate after a while – as you’ve no doubt picked up from my jottings.

That night, went to the Saturday Night Market/Bazaar, another Goa institution.  This was the final one of the year…earlier in the year, during high season, these things are totally mobbed and somewhat annoying, but now it was petering out and it wasn’t crowded.  Perhaps the best market I’d attended in Goa – felt relaxed, and the vendors were cutting prices to move merchandise.  Bought a few posters for my flat, and saw a few old friends.

Lisa found a package I’d given her to hold the year before.  Inside were “America’s Boy,” a great book on the Marcos regime, and some motorcycle goggles.  Also there was the most recent Lonely Planet Goa guide.  All decent stuff to have in hand.

Got back to the house and crashed fairly quickly.  Between the sun, the beers, and the enticing cushions and mattresses that Lisa and Richard have strewn around the house, I was always a step away from snoozing.  All well and good.  On Sunday I got up, had breakfast, and drove around on my rented motorbike for an hour.  Bought some beers and brought them back for lunch…Lisa made salad and pasta and we had a nice little feast and said our goodbyes.  Then my cab came and I headed to the airport, feeling pretty good about the weekend and about having friends in some obscure places.

Into Mumbai.  Listened to A.R. Rahman’s “Mumbai Theme Song” as my taxi rolled into the city.  Spotted an old Lincoln Continental Mark VII up on blocks.  Odd.  Headed to the office to check emails, etc.  Had a call with a senior colleague overseas, who updated me on how things were going globally.  Not terrific news, but helpful to get this context.  We’ll see what the implications are for India, and for my own situation.

Had dinner Monday at Kobe Sizzler, an institution here, the last time I’d visited was in ’92.  They specialize in huge sizzling platters of chicken, veggies, etc.  Great stuff – not lacking in grease, but it’s a fun meal and you don’t leave hungry.  You really need to know Mumbai to find places like these – thinking back, I really have spent a lot of time in this city and know it better than most visitors do.

Walked off my meal on Chowpatty Beach, another place I haven’t set foot in since ’92.  Got some funny looks from local kids malingering thereabouts – made sure I didn’t touch my wallet or phone.  At one point a young woman sitting with her beau asked me to take a photo of them – which was perfectly fine, but she said ‘uncle, will you take our photo?’  Uncle.  I’ve been called that before, and probably blogged about it, but still cannot get used to that honorific.  I “did the needful,” as they say in India, but was in a crap mood and left the beach.

Got a cab and went back to my flat to relax in the aircon.  Did some reading, then the phone rang – it was friend Naomi, from the Hindustan Times, wanting to know more about Israel’s upcoming Independence Day.  I answered her questions, gave her some ideas, and then went back to my reading.  Also watched an episode of “24” on my laptop.  Have been somehow managing to keep up with podcast and TV show downloads, and finding a bit of time to work through them on weekends.

On Tuesday went to a social investing forum called “Sankalp.”  Loads of people in the social investing space were there, including nearly everyone from the weekend in Hubli.  This is starting to feel familiar, finally.  Chatted with Parth from Technoserve…wished Deepti good luck with her business case competition.

That ran till 6 p.m. or so, then had a meeting for a couple hours afterward in Bandra.  Didn’t get back home till 10:30 that night – quite a long day.  Saw online that Senator Specter switched parties and joined the Democrats – excellent news.  Now, if Al Franken get seated, the Dems will have 60 Senate seats and the sparks will fly.  Feels like teen spirit…

Was supposed to have dinner the next night with some friends of Johann’s, but wound up having a late call, then learning that I had another call at 7 the next morning.  Plus my stomach was a bit off, might have been the grease from Kobe Sizzlers.  So cancelled the dinner – I hope I didn’t piss off Johann’s friends too badly.  Sometimes India can beat you down and this was one of those instances.  And I think I’ve generally gotten less social – some nights I just need to kick back and read, or listen to music.  I don’t want dinners every single night…

My 7 a.m. call, for what it’s worth, went nicely.  One of the projects I’m running involves some pricing work, and I introduced a new methodology here that worked wonders and gave us a raft of proprietary data.  Now we need to figure out what to do with it, since we went well beyond the client’s scope and in fact did some of this work expressly for our own IP.  It’s gratifying when an experiment like this one turns out so well.

Had lunch that day with a new friend, Michael, who works at the US Consulate.  Friend Bettina in Manila introduced us, Michael used to work at the Embassy in Manila.  We had lunch at the Breach Candy Club, and we sat there and looked out on the mammoth subcontinent-shaped saltwater pool while we chatted.  Michael and I both love the Philippines so we had lots to discuss.  He’s about to visit the States for 3 weeks of holidays…I’ll be there for 10 days myself.

Given my upcoming 20^th university reunion, I’ve tried to get back to my former exercise regime, going beyond running.  Finally broke out the yoga mat, as I mentioned earlier in this post, and I also did some resistance cord and abs exercises.  Today my stomach is sore as hell, but I guess that indicates progress.  Running is my foundation but it’s just not sufficient.

This weekend was a long one, Friday was May Day/Maharashtra Day.  Spent it lying on my couch, reading.  Had dinner on both Friday and Saturday nights at colleague Naina’s flat – she and her family live in a very nice flat near the Taj President Hotel.  Friday was also Election Day in Mumbai, and no booze is served, so the dinner was partially intended to be a drinks fest.  In India the elections go on for an entire month, each locale is designated a single day to vote.  In mid-May they’ll announce the results.  There are 700 million plus voters, it’s an incredible undertaking.

On Saturday I went to Crosswords Bookstore, near my flat, to have a coffee and something to eat at Moishe’s Café.  Ran into a friend of Rajan’s there – small world.  Sat there and read the Asian Age newspaper for a good hour – felt almost like being in HKG, or NYC.  Not a better way to spend a Sat or Sun morning, IMHO.  Went home and did a bit of yoga and reading, then went to meet friend Harsh at Geoffrey’s Pub at Marine Plaza Hotel.  Harsh is an entrepreneur starting up English language accreditation programs, and is early in the game.  Super-nice guy – I hope his business makes it.  Gotta admire someone who could live in the US and make a very nice living as a banker or in business, but instead, with a huge b-school loan hanging over his head, chooses to come back to his homeland of India and start a socially-focused business.  Snaps to that.

Then went to the Bombay Gymkhana Club to meet Johann’s parents, finally.  Johann and I worked together in Oz and East Asia for many years, and is originally from here.  Met his parents at the Gym and we had a great time getting to know each other.  Dinyal, his father, is a retired pilot, and his mother, Umaima, is involved in the political scene and seems incredibly well-connected.  Had a few drinks and some great food (the garlic pepper prawns at the Gym are sensational), and hung out for a few hours chatting.  Umaima was keen to hear about my travels, so we talked about my Mongolian adventures in particular.  They seemed intrigued by my tales of jeans smuggling on the Trans-Siberian Railway.

This morning, en route to the office, saw a fellow on the back of a motorbike, studying a paper on “Reproduction and Health in Plants” while in traffic.  Wow – I find it hard enough to study/read while sitting in a quiet room, much less on the back of a noisy bike in the hot sun amidst honking cars.  India, arise – the focus on education here will pay massive dividends.  I can only hope that the USA will finally figure this out and ensure that every American gets a good education and has a real chance in life.  We’ll see how that goes.

I have 5-6 books on my shelf.  Had a depressing thought on that – it will probably take me a year to work through them.  When I was on sabbatical, I was plowing through 30-40 books a year.  Now it’s back to reality – gotta stop ordering from Amazon.com and focus on the stuff I really want to read.

Ok, enough for this week, am eager to get out of the office and breathe some fumes.  Over and out.

As you can surmise, work is already interfering with my previously unfettered lifestyle – to the extent that it’s hard to file the slog in a timely manner.  I’m cramming it in on a Sunday, and suspect that may be the usual practice from now on.  Be patient, and stick with me, dear readers…

Checked out of the Suba Palace Hotel, probably for the last time.  I was looking to move into my flat on Wednesday, and had a business trip to the state of Chhattisgarh starting Monday afternoon.  Was going there with three colleagues, and was looking forward to getting out of Mumbai/Delhi and seeing rural-ish India.

Got up at 6 a.m. to pack up – was happy this might be the final time I’d have to pack all my stuff for a while.  Sat down to blast out a few emails, then my mobile rang – it was the driver, come to take me to the airport – 40 minutes early.  Ugh.  These morons are always either late, or very early – they just can’t get it right.  I took my time, finished up the emails, got dressed, and got my bags brought down to the luggage room.  No time for breakfast…and the hotel computer was down, for a few minutes, making my annoying morning all the more hectic.  Classic.  Don’t come here if you can’t deal with surprises (90% of them unhappy surprises).  Or if you lack patience…or a sense of humor…

The trip north was superb.  We  stayed in ‘Hotel Babylon,’ which was far better than expected (a somewhat rare occurrence in India), and the following day, spent in the field with about 100 rural women, was unusual and rewarding – one of the best days of work I’ve ever experienced.  We were doing some product testing and market research with them, and I had introduced a new technique which wound up working really well – we got some incredible data and should be able to build some good IP around it.  I’m always a bit insecure about my situation these days – I’m a “boomerang” employee (left, then returned), which is fine in and of itself, but I’m in a new group, and the economy stinks (India’s less badly-hit, as yet), so I tend to feel on somewhat shaky ground these days.  I need a few more hits and then I’ll feel better.

Got back to Mumbai Wednesday midday.  Unbelievable traffic from airport into the city – Mumbai gets going late, rush hour isn’t till 9 or even later.  Easy to get around at 8 a.m., which is good for me.  But this time I was stuck in rush hour traffic for 90 minutes, and I was in a crappy little cab, sweating away.  Got to the office, just in time to sit down with my real estate agent/shyster and our head executive assistance to go over my housing contract.  Not much fun – we got through it but I was worried we’d hit a snag.  I planned to move in that night, and for a while it didn’t look good, but we managed to deal with all the contractual bullshit and then the agent went and got my keys from landlord Mr. G, my new favorite Mumbaiker.

All this, and it was the start of Passover, I wanted to go to services and the seder that night.  Timing was looking very tight, I needed bedclothes and was planning to race to Bombay Dyeing to get some, then Mr. G said he’d send “his man” over to clean the place and provide bedsheets, pillowcases, and a duvet.  Ch-ching.  Saved me a trip, and the stuff he sent over was quite nice.  Taking care of the foreigner.  Just when India’s about to drive you mad, someone intervenes and saves you.

Got to Knesseth Eliyahu Synagogue with time to spare.  The usual Orthodox situation – lots of ancient Jews wandering around, muttering, picking their noses, inquiring about each other’s financial situations (a high degree of schadenfreude prevailed).  The president of the shul got on the bima (pulpit) and said a few words – seemed there was some tension between the synagogue and Chabad, the Orthodox/Mosaich group whose local rabbi was killed in the December terror attacks here.  Chabad is known for its seders and other dinner services, and often draws people away from the synagogue’s.  Oh well.  I’d already told Rabbi Chezzi, the Californian Chabad Rabbi, that I’d go to their gig and that was that.  He showed up towards the end of the service at the synagogue – the congregants didn’t exactly greet him warmly.  You’d think that after what happened in December everyone would come together, but no – we Jews are as bad as the Northern Irish…

The seder at the new/temp Chabad House (the old one was destroyed in the attacks) was decent.  About 40 people, intriguing mix of expats, a few Indian Jews, and a few randoms who were difficult to classify.  And about 5 Chabad rabbis who provided interminable detail about Jewish history throughout the seder meal – we didn’t really eat till 11 p.m.  I’m religion lite, and prefer my seders to last 2-3 hours max.  Didn’t escape till well after midnight.  I did enjoy the company of Rabbi Chezzi, whose new-age Californian Jewish demeanor and sense of humor was much appreciated – other Chabad folks can be a bit heavy and preachy.

Religious duties accomplished, I caught a taxi back to my flat.  Extraordinary moment for me – my first night in my own flat in over three years.  Felt a bit weird not to have an elevator boy, or a bellhop, or other hangers-on.  Slept pretty well – was exhausted from the field trip and the seder.

Noticed the new chairs that Mr. G. bought, to accompany the new glass kitchen table, are wobbly.  Indian manufacturing – I’ll never bitch about Chinese products again (well, those you ingest are worth avoiding, I suppose – e.g. melamine milk).  I’m still not sure the Indians are able to manufacture a pen that won’t explode or a lighter that lasts for more than a week.

Views from my flat towards the bay…

Didn’t linger long in my new flat – early next morning, off to the airport to fly to Hyderabad.  Another heinous little cab, nice and hot, and I had a long phone call with a colleague.  Now and then I’d move the phone from my ear and wipe it on my handkerchief.  Might need to switch to another model, like a Blackberry, and spring for a headset.  I hate changes like these but it probably makes sense…still, one thing at a time.

Had a good meeting in Hyderabad, in the coffee shop of one of the Taj Hotels.  Was joined by two colleagues, we were pitching a project on education and school choice to a PE fund.  I’m pretty sure she wants to hire us, but needs to find more money.  We encouraged her to do that…didn’t want to negotiate against ourselves at this point, but given the times we might need to come back with a more modest proposal.  All part of the game, you know.

Had a second, late afternoon meeting, but that got cancelled, allowing us to race to the airport and catch a much earlier flight.  Felt nice to return early, and to be able to spend a bit of time in my new flat.  Haven’t had many reasonable evenings lately, reasonable being getting out of the office before 9 p.m.

In Hyderabad we watched a plane take off with the full moon in the background.  Really wish I had my camera around for that, it was breathtaking.  Moments like those are like injecting adrenaline straight into your brain, or heart…

My new flat is a stone’s throw from where I lived in ’92.  The Meherabad Building is just down the street, and it feels good to be back in Breach Candy/Kemp’s Corner after all these years.  And I was happy to be done with the flat-hunting process.  Now I just need to accessorize a bit and can put it all behind me.  Need to get a good iPod dock/speaker system.  Might get a Bose, or JBL – any ideas?

Walked around my ‘hood a bit.  Mumbai does not have that many great places in any given area – there’s one bottle shop, a hotel with bar and resto, another bar some ways off, a dry cleaner down the road, and a chemist/pharmacist…but it’s not kitted out like NYC, London, or Tokyo, it can be a real pain to get simple things.  Most people (with some $) have people who go get things, or have things delivered, but I’m low overhead and DIY, so I suspect it’ll take some time and change of mentality to get there.

Had dinner at the Shalimar Hotel’s Gulmarg resto, upstairs.  The Shalimar is going to be hugely helpful to me, it’s right across the street, quite tasteful, and has this resto, a decent little bar with snacks, and web access (you need to buy a card, but hey).  I don’t yet have Internet in my flat, and suspect that may take a month to set up.  Fun.

Gulmarg has great kebabs, I had my favorite murgh (chicken) reshmi special, then went to the Ghetto Pub for a couple beers.  Felt almost like a holiday – actually, the following day was technically a holiday (Good Friday), not that I’d be taking it off, mind you.

Worked all day, then welcomed friend Dave to town.  He and I met in Varanasi a while back, I was waiting for a train and he was hanging around – we met in a café with wireless, we were both cranking on our respective laptops and enjoyed each others’ company.  Dave’s been getting his journalism degree in Bangalore, and is interviewing with Rolling Stone and some other mags here in Mumbai.  He needed a place to crash, I offered my couch.  Quite a boozy night – started at the pub in the Shalimar (which has a vaguely Las Vegas feel), then over to Leopold’s upstairs bar, where barman Deepak set us up nicely with bar seats and a beer tower.  Wobbled out of there a couple hours later, and settled into the seedy backroom at Golkar, a place where many fear to tread.  Stayed there till closing, discussing life and traveling.  Dave’s really been around – I suspect our paths have technically crossed many times, we just never knew it.

Somehow got a few beers on the way home – our taxi driver took us to some backwater where they sold us warmish Kingfishers.  Dave’s idea, 100% – he’s younger and still had his sea-legs, I was drained and would have been happy crashing.  Got back to my flat and didn’t last too long – woke up many hours later with a headache and doorbell ringing, the maid from across the hall was offering to clean my place, but I was still groggy and Dave was still out on the couch.  Then the phone rang – telemarketer, in Hindi.  Enough to make one swear off drinking forever – almost.  It was 11 a.m. by now, Dave had to go and catch a flight back to Bangalore.  Fun little stretch of time, good catching up with Dave and trading travel war stories.

There’s a nice little bakery, Birdie’s, right near my flat.  I often grab a chicken tikka sandwich from there – I rely heavily on my local ecosystem, hence I prefer to live in the thick of things.  Birdy’s and Shalimar Hotel are likely to provide half my meals till I get enough time to branch one.  So it goes…

You technically need a license even to consume alcohol in your own home.  Needless to say, yet another unenforced law in India.

Spent a few hours in the office, preparing for a pitch.  Took it easy that night, was still a bit off from my heavy night with Dave.  Went for a couple Kingfishers at the Shalimar pub, had some snacks there, and then retreated to my flat to read and listen to podcasts.  Hadn’t listened to a single podcast since getting to India, and I now had about 30 to crank through.  Amazing the things that back up on you when you’re spending most of your waking hours in the office.

Sunday, walked around, did some laundry, looked at some blog photos,  read a bit, then back to the office.  Mostly catching up on loose ends, not too grueling.  Had a phone call with the States, then went to the Bombay Gymkhana Club, one of my favorites, for the birthday party of friend Rajan’s wife Kalli.  Most of Rajan’s gang was there, I knew most of them from the old days and from recent trips.  Jatin ensured that I was well watered and fed – waddled out of there around midnight, as full as I’ve been on a Sunday in some time.  The Gym is pretty busy every night of the week, probably a dangerous place for me to bother joining…

I like walking around Breach Candy…it brings me back to my carefree, clueless days of being 24 years old and wide-eyed.  Now I’m much more calm, and cynical – but I still am drawn to (mis)adventures and days of unpredictability, and here I am, oh Lord.  New joke I just thought up:  how many expats does it take to change a lightbulb?  One – if they have a servant who knows where to find an actual bulb.  Most of us (well, probably just me) would just sit in the dark and complain.

Flew to Delhi on Monday for an important meeting the next day.  Had dinner with a couple colleagues at Indochine, a swish Asian joint where we sat outside, by ourselves – the place was empty.  But the food was very good, and I was happy to get away from heavy Indian food and instead go for some (heavy) noodles and meats.  Then we decamped to the Eva Guesthouse, a private home converted into a medium-grade guesthouse – about US$75 a night, not bad for Delhi, quite comfortable.

Had a full day of meetings Tuesday – they went pretty well.  What we’re trying to do might fundamentally change the way we do business…I can only say that much for the time being.

Back in Mumbai, had lunch on Wednesday with old Hong Kong colleague Gauri, who now works for the Asia Society here.  Met at Brittania, the old place run by the ancient Parsi guy with Coke bottle glasses.  Gauri and I traded lots of gossip, she’s very cool and I’m glad she’s in Mumbai.  My social network is much better than I anticipated a few weeks ago.

Had a call with a senior colleague in the States…he wanted to check in and see how I’m doing.  I’m on a contract for now, and he wanted to see if I was taking to this new stuff or not.  I said I was, and that despite the learning curve being somewhat humbling, it was also energizing and I wanted to stick around.  That was about the gist of it – we’ll see how things go.  The overall industry is not doing great and it’s hard to say how things will go over the next year.  Hold on tight.

A colleague told me about a good park in which to run, not far from me, on the coast.  It was just past the crappy little park I’d been running in, so tried to find it.  It wasn’t too tricky – just walked through a parking lot (where guys were offering pony rides to kids – classic India), and then down a path.  It opened up onto Amarson’s Park, or something like that – a 250 meter square park with both soft and hard tracks.  Lots of people walking (waddling), no one else running – but not crowded and the sea breezes were godsends.  Ran and then walked for about an hour – felt wonderful.  Then walked back towards my flat, with a spring in my step and the feeling that everything was starting to come together.

When I got close to my flat, I felt in my little Velcro pocket for my flat key – nada.  Hmmm.  Felt around some more, still nothing.  One of my worst nightmares come true – I’d always worried this would happen whenever I went for a run, but the key’s never fallen out and it would be difficult to imagine this happening – the pocket’s quite secure.  Then I found a tiny hole in the pocket – not sure if my running did it, or if it was just the usual wear and tear (literally)…anyway, the key was gone.  Busted back to the park, looked around for 30 minutes but no luck – hadn’t expected to find it, but a bit of due diligence was required.  Walked up the hill to my landlord’s chi-chi building, the Grand Paredi – his “man” had the backup key and it was only around 9:30 p.m., not too too late to call up and ask for the key.

That plan bore fruit – Mr. G wasn’t even home, I didn’t wake anyone, and the key appeared shortly.  Whew.  Wasn’t looking forward to having to deal with a locksmith.  Got into my flat and vowed to make replacement keys the next day…I’d planned to do this, but hadn’t gotten around to it yet.  Felt like a bozo – one week in the new flat and I’d already lost my key.  But Mr. G. was cool about it, he was happy the backup had been at his place and not far off.  Usually you don’t want your landlord anywhere near you, but this is a very different situation.

I’ve traveled all around the world, and only lost two things – one white sock (the laundry in Chiang Mai actually lost it), and one of those plastic covers for the iPod synch/charging cord (which is largely decorative).  Now, I’d gone and lost my flat key.  Brilliant.

Got my mail from home.  Read in my b-school magazine that an old prof had died.  Very sad.  Read a Sports Illustrated – one of the letters to the editor came from a fellow in Sunapee, NH (where my family had a vacation home for many years) complaining about athletes on steroids.  Funny to be in Mumbai, India reading a letter from someone in Sunapee.

Got the data back from our field trip to Chhattisgarh.  It came back clean, and enlightening – the technique I proposed worked nicely, and we got some excellent insights out of it.  Now we need to package and sell this stuff – will get on that right away.  These days revenues are king, queen and country…

This weekend I had another trip, to the city of Hubli, in Karnataka state.  I was on a judging panel for an entrepreneurship competition down there.  About 25 entrepreneurs presented their biz plans to us, and we chose the top 10 – the eventual top 5 will get grants of US$10K, a fair sum of money for these parts.  I wasn’t sure what to expect from the weekend, and went in with some dread – Saturday morning work.  But it was a great time – a colleague went down there with me, and the other judges were fun and switched-on – there were people from Bain Capital, Yes Bank, Acumen Fund, CII, etc.  Formed some bonds and also enjoyed the actual judging – there were some decent plans in there, including one where the entrepreneur is taking a sort of coconut leaf, treating it, and using it as a food plate.  The Indian Railways uses 10 MILLION plates and cups every day, most are plastic/Styrofoam, and 90% are tossed out the window.  You may recall my own experience with this some time ago…anyway, these products  are superb and we picked him as the top bet in our judging group.  Of course, getting the Indian Railway contract is no small matter, and his production can’t match their needs, but he can always try to get 2-3 lines and see how it goes.  I don’t mind spending a Saturday reviewing plans like these and wrapping my head around them…

Both Friday and Saturday nights were boozy affairs, our hotel was about the only game in town and that was alright.  My colleague (a male) turned out to be oddly knowledgeable about 80s chick flicks (16 Candles, etc.) and everyone had a good nostalgic laugh about those days.  I won’t be able to return for the final judging round, in early May, as I’ll be in the States, and am a bit sad about that.  It’s nice to form bonds and keep renewing them – I’d love to see the other judges again soon (many are in Mumbai, so that will happen) and the local entrepreneurs are a cool little gang as well.  An NGO called TechnoServe put the whole thing together, in conjunction with the Deshpande Foundation (based in Hubli), and the weekend was memorable.  Things like these make me (usually) glad to be working in a field like this one…

That’s about it for this 2-week period.  This is my 150^th slog posting – hard to believe I’ve been at this for nearly 3 years.  You are a most patient lot.  And since I still have you here, allow me to marvel for a minute at my recent shift in circumstances.  I’m by no means saying I’m on entirely firm ground as yet, but in the space of a couple months things have changed massively for me, in a most intriguing way.  I’m back at my old firm, in a very new space – I’m still in Asia, but in some ways on another planet, and coming back to work hasn’t really been as hard as I’d imagined.  I’ve taken my lumps, and have more to bear, but overall it’s been a damn good transition.  And that’s all I’m saying for now.  Over and out.