We’ve got sunlight on the sand

I realize it’s been a few days since I last wrote, but our move to the apartment has been a whirlwind of activities. Deb’s driver, Ashraf has shopped with us more than he has with his wife since they were married, but his help has been very valuable. But as you know, the transition has not been without its challenges. Power and water have been two of the issues that have started to align with expectations – operative word is “started”. You were treated to our first evening’s experience, but we’ve come to believe Buchi Babu is in league with all the local tradesmen and service personnel, not unlike Tony Soprano’s harmonious relationship with the unions.
Now the vacant lot next to our apartment, one of two lots that remain open to the same view we have, is being developed. It is an interesting combination of old and new technology in laying the foundations. The construction workers are living across the street from the construction site. But since there is a Benz outside the tent, I assume they are doing alright. OK, I can’t confirm it’s their M-B, but the image does have some impact. Some of the women living in the tents carry dirt from the site in baskets on their heads. I have seen this several times now around Hyderabad, so it’s not unusual to see women working in such rudimentary roles.
Our military base has been very active for the last four days. On Friday, they began some maneuvers through the cow wallows. The trainees have been waist high in waste water for the day. Toward late afternoon, the target practice started followed by an artillery barrage – literally. Saturday morning, the trainees were mustered onto the parade ground, an area of about 3 soccer fields long. The transport lorries are parked at one end of the field in a U shape formation. The troops are in ranks of about 100 each (I assume it’s a metric thing) and a drum beat begins about 6am and lasts for about 3 hours. Now THAT was annoying. Late in the afternoon on Saturday, a new artillery barrage starts. Deb gets to experience it herself for the first time. After the first salvo, she levitated off the floor, but the barrage only lasted about 15 minutes. That was long enough until the first evening call to prayer started with the dueling imams. Our daughter, Leigh told us that one of the documentary programs actually talked about mosques sending their criers to a music school so that they wouldn’t need to listen to someone who sounded like he had a serious flare of IBS. When you get a cluster of mosques calling the faithful to prayer it is as if Verdi was composing one of his famous choruses after he dropped acid.
But how about the apartment? Well, we’ve been in the apartment 6 days now. Buchi and my little buddy, Mr. Gums, are out on the balcony installing some roll up shades. Now, I’m not sure if these are a substitute for not getting the electrical problems solved or if they are just a nice addition to the balcony. They come from somewhere else, that’s for sure and guess what! They don't roll up! They are different lengths and they are blocking my view. Buchi, now you've really done it! You have to realize that while the geography is high desert plateau, during monsoon, the humidity stays about 95 to 100 percent 24-7. Maybe that’s what they promised when we asked for water 24-7, which is a luxury here in Hyderabad. Due to the high humidity, the flora flourish here from the bamboo that people simply stick in the ground to forests of Eucalyptus trees to, of course, mold. The consequence of this is that all floors are marble (or mud depending on your income level). You’re not going to see a lot of shag carpet save for some discarded remnants that traveled from who knows where are are used as one layer of cover on the tents of the squatters, er, construction families.
I mentioned that the standard configuration for families is what is known as 3BHK or 3 bedrooms, a hall (translate: living room) and a kitchen. Our apartment is very spacious with about 1800 square feet, but as you will see, there is space that is unusual and so we’ve re-configured the furniture to give us the main living area, the Indian equivalent of a great room where we have the dining and TV viewing. This leaves the “hall” which we would consider a living room as a stepchild with a sitting area and some built-in cabinetry that is our greeting area off the entrance. Service people have spent more time in that space than we have.
Our kitchen is a galley with marble counters and marble floor. Now, the owners have had cooks throughout the time they lived here, and the cook’s idea of clean was formed in a galaxy far, far away from what Deb and I expect. Sooooo, I’ve been cleaning ghee film from every surface except for where the painters painted OVER the ghee film. It’s an Indian thing, I’m sure. Last evening, we had our first real dinner. I cooked up some pasta sauce using the local Roma tomatoes, basil, onions, garlic, and peppers. We actually sat down to dinner at the table. Now this brings me to one of the central issues that we have found living in Hyderabad: Americans do take for granted so many things in our everyday living that are scarcities in most other parts of the world. In the many years of international travel, I haven’t experienced these everyday living challenges as I lived in hotels and even when I was in a remote facility, our food and water were catered in. Please don’t get the impression that I’m complaining. In the morning, I get up and start my coffee, the electricity permitting, Inshallah. I go out on the balcony, and survey the landscape before the troops start exercising and in between the calls to prayer. It’s damn nice.
Our “great room” is now our main living space. We have our TV viewing space at one end and our dining area at the other. Our office is the smallest bedroom. We’re still in need of a second computer desk, but since my experience today, I will gladly give up this desk for the dining room table. Cause, can I tell ya, I had a mind-altering experience. I mean, we’re talkin’ Bladerunner-type subterranean maze of vendor booths. I’m going to go back to take pictures, but this was absolutely the most bizarre shopping experience I’ve had – but it was a success. For 200 Rs, I’ve got WiFi again. Damn, life is good.
I’m going to close for now. The pictures will tell the story. Have a great day.