Perils of Pet Ownership

It all started with a dream.  A dream of a lifestyle, a picture perfect family with two children and a dog!  A family that would play together, take vacations together, go for long drives on the beach into the sunset blah! blah! blah!...............

Stanley came into our lives to fulfill that dream. When this little bundle of joy came into our home, a burst of motherly instinct took over and I welcomed it as my third child.  The unbridled joy and amazement on Rahul's face was totally worth the effort and price we paid for Stanley, a pure-bred English Beagle.  From the moment Stanley entered our household, our lives changed forever! 

Our honeymoon with Stanley lasted a mere six days before the amount of care and attention that this little being demanded, started taking a serious toll on me.   Beagles are extremely intelligent, hyper active and mischievous.  Living in an apartment, maintaining a hyper dog with furniture and many delicate artifacts which were never meant for either children or dogs, brings new adventure everyday.  Our household stuff have survived a move across continents and two boys, but could not withstand the single minded determination of a naughty beagle .

The major crisis came when Stanley had a serious tick infestation which involved fumigating the house and the dog and everything it came in contact with.  I plunged headlong into the world of tick and flea control and now am the resident expert on maintaining a tick-free dog! 

I have wanted to get my head examined many times.  What was I thinking?  How did I not realise the amount of 'care' involved??  Maybe because I wasn't responsible for providing the care when we were children and had dogs!  Five months down the road, vacillating between frustration, anger, amusement and love, the Giridhar household was still reeling with how to solve a problem like Stanley.  Should we give him away, find another owner. The devastated look on Rahul's face ensured that we did not entertain this thought for more than a day. 

Rahul's poignant question during those trying times puts things in perspective:  'Mom, why are we not having as much fun as the commercials make it out to be.  Why do they keep saying get your child a dog and he will be happy'  .  And I have to resort to the standard response., "Que + sera, my son.  What will be will be.  Stanley is just like a pesky toddler who is a gigantic pain in the butt, but will grow to be a loving companion. "

 

Well, dear reader, you will be happy to note that we have survived the first year with Stanley.  He has gotten better and is now very much a member of the Giridhar household.  Is he the docile, easy going, mild-mannered house pet?  Not by any stretch of the imagination.  But in a curious turnaround, the Giridhars have risen to the challenge.   We have even managed to teach the dog some tricks.  Make sure to ask for demonstration next time you visit. 

These days my routine involves long walks with Stanley, daily efforts to socialize him  and my friends circle includes  a new set of like-minded 'pet owners'. The saga continues and as a nice by product, I hope to regain my slim and trim figure by the end of the year.....

So long, folks.  Please reach out if you want expert free advice on pet management......

Rays of Hope

Hello dear readers
I am back with a story of hope, change and a vision that sees a future for the children who would otherwise be a part of the forgotten, the many who slip through the cracks in the system and take to a life of crime, mediocrity or menial jobs.

For some months now, I have been volunteering with an NGO called Ashraya Institute for Children, the brainchild of a 19 year old student, Elizabeth Sholtys from Mahindra United World College , Pune.  Elizabeth conceived of a social initiative to fulfill her 'Service' requirement as part of her IB syllabus.   What started as a school project is now a fully functioning NGO under the caring and visionary leadership of Liz Didi as she is fondly referred to by the children who are given nutritional, residential and educational support by AIC.  The Ashraya Initiative for Children (AIC) is a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization that runs a home for street children and a series of interwoven outreach programs designed to benefit vulnerable children and communities in Pune, India.


This story is about two girls Geetha and Jyothi (see photo insert) who pretty much spent their childhood under the auspices of AIC.  Their background covers the gamut of absentee parents, extreme poverty, unstable homes and lack of a role model.  What separates them from the others is their association with AIC and Liz, and other volunteers and staff at AIC.  Both the girls became a part of AIC at the tender age of 8.  I was fortunate enough to be asked by AIC to help coach these children on how to face an interview as they were getting ready for college. 


I will be frank with you.  I did not know what to expect.  I had a few simple questions prepared to take them through a 'mock' interview.  But as I met the first individual, I knew that I had underestimated them.  Not only did they speak fluent English, they spoke with a confidence and poise that one associates with private schools and convents.  They were well read, clear about why they wanted to go to college and what they wanted to do with their lives. 

It was no surprise that both mentioned Liz didi as their role model, and that they wanted to emulate her work so that they could help other children like themselves have a better future.  Tell me, dear reader, what better testament can there be that change is possible?  The years they spent under the tutelage of AIC and all it had to offer changed the trajectory of their path.  The likelihood of them finishing school was slim let alone aspiring for higher studies. 

PS:  Both Geetha and Jyothi secured admission to UWC's Foundation Programme.  They are now beacons of hope for several other children  as well as a source of pride and joy to the founders, directors and staff of AIC.  Their future is now shining with possibilities, of travel to countries abroad, a life filled with hope, joy and success......

Those of you that want to know more about AIC and their work, please log on to their website at:  https://www.facebook.com/ashrayainitiative 

Zumbastic!

Greetings, my dear readers and a very happy new year 2014 to all of you.  May all your wishes, aspirations and desires be fulfilled in this new year. 

Now that I have spent a solid 18 months in India, I am slowly beginning to assimilate the customs, practices etc., that were a huge shock in the first few months.  Since I now no longer have a 9- 5 job that keeps me busy during the day, I do have time at my disposal for the first time in 12 years.  With the kids at school for the major part of the day, I have to find ways to amuse myself and keep both my body and mind agile.
I decided what better way to keep fit than to join an exercise class that would have a two fold benefit:  keep me fit and make new friends.  The new India offers more options than just the yoga and walking that we had in our days.  I decided to explore the world of Zumba!! 

Thus began my sojourn with my newfound activity every other morning with a bunch of other ladies, all of an uncertain age north of 30.  My instructor is a flexible, attractive woman under 30, who moves like lightning.  After the first few days of vainly trying to replicate the moves and jumps and twirls of the Instructor,  I have accepted the limitations of my own body and found compromises that may not look magnificent, but leave me with less body aches at the end of the day.

Highlight of the week was a pre-valentine zumba dance party where participants from all batches arrived with their instructors to dance away their worries.  I must say I was a bit nervous to see some younger, hipper crowd and wondering if my clumsy moves would make the cut.  I was next to a chubby guy who had two left feet and his arms had a mind of their own.  In comparison, my moves were as graceful as a gazelle and soon my confidence returned after which I pretty much didn't care who saw me.  I am not proud of making unfair comparisons, but human nature is frail, and I needed a small boost to my self-esteem.

In the India that I have come back to,  40 is the new 30 (just like in the US).  When we were growing up here, once you got married and had kids, women let themselves go and did not have the time or the inclination to seek out options for their own enjoyment.  Now it is a pleasant change to see that women are making the time to carve out time for themselves and boldly exploring options that were once considered taboo. 

With that, I leave you dear readers to zumba your worries away!  Until next time, adios, dear readers...........

 

Driving Insane!

It has been a while since I penned my thoughts.  But this experience is surely worth a few words.  Two weeks ago, I enrolled in a Driving School.  Yes, I  have a drivers license and I drove accident free for 14 years in our very own Detroit.  Many of you may not know this, but I drove a stick shift in India before moving to the US (1998) and I have a drivers license from that era and is valid up to 2016.  So why Driving School?

Driving in India is a cross between bedlam and mayhem.  Vehicles of all kinds are on the roads at all times.  Bicycles, mopeds, autos (the three wheeled tuk-tuks so unique to India), cars, trucks and the king of the road:  Buses.  Now, imagine all of these jostling for space on a single lane road along with the ever bustling crowd of pedestrians who seem to have no fear for their lives as they criss cross with gay abandon as and when they please. 

And if you think this is crazy, wait till you hear that there is the occasional cow who is sublimely sunning herself in the middle of the road turning a blind eye and a deaf ear to the vehicular traffic all around and the cacophony of honks filling the air.  The stray dogs and pigs and once in a while a trio of camels traversing majestically down the road completes the picture that is the Indian road.

 So I decided I need to learn the intricate art of weaving my car through this maze, much like Tetris, one of my favorite video games.  My first day on the training, I was pretty impressed with myself at not freaking out and stalling the engine.  Of course, the fact that the teacher has a clutch and brake at his disposal helps to assuage the fear.  The verdict from my coach after the first few days was that I drove well but I was a scaredy cat.  Now, you see folks driving in India is a serious psychological game. 

There are four varieties of drivers:

Nervous/new drivers :  Like me, they are new to the roads and terribly afraid of everyone and are over cautious, over whelmed and insecure.  So, of course, they are driving in second gear throughout, coming to a standstill at every intersection and restarting with a chug before moving again.
Righteous Drivers:  These would be the good citizens, following every rule and road sign, giving the right of way to those that it rightfully belongs to and driving as the rulebook says.  (I like to think I fall in this category)

Aggressive Drivers:  They can't stop honking their horns, are waiting about 2 meters ahead of the signal line, stepping on the gas the moment the light turns green. 

Kings of the road:  Yes, these are the bus drivers and nobody messes with them!  God help you if you get on the wrong side of these road monarchs.  Everybody knows this and keeps their distance.

So, the choice here is very clear.  If you are in the number 1 or number 2 category, your survival odds are slim to none.  The goal to reach is number 3 when you intimidate everyone else by honking the loudest and being brazenly bold in claiming your right on the road even when you know you are soooooooooooo wrong.  I finished my classes yesterday.  Unfortunately, I did not graduate to the number 3 level.  So now, I need to practice with my own car.  Hubby is a bit worried that our dent free car is now going to get decorated.  But one has to start somewhere, right??  Wish me luck, dear reader as I brave these roads and go where no expat dares to go......................

PS:  I still have my driver!

                                                                                                                                        

Anniversary Special

Dear readers,

We are now on the one year anniversary of our move to India.  Yes, July 7th 2012 was the day we all landed in 92/1, Rakshak Society to make it our home.  I felt I needed to update my blog on this memorable day. As always, I will share an experience that is so unique to India but this time, you will see me pontificating as well.

When you have lived in the United States or any other developed country for a long time, and frequented the many chain department stores such as Kmart, Kroger, Meijer etc, you forget the delicate dance of bargaining to get a better deal that is played frequently in countries where you encounter the 'owner' himself or herself trying to sell. Recently, I had the opportunity to relive those warm and fuzzy feelings that come over you when you think you have landed a great bargain.

India is a country rich in bargains if you are willing to get your feet dirty.  With the security of a trusted, local friend, I cut across "gallis" (side & back streets) with tiny houses and rows of clothes hung on clotheslines.  Amidst the myriad smells and sounds that assail your senses,  I came across a 'mojri heaven'. Mojris are special Indian slippers, decorative and colorful. Here was a vendor set up on the pavement with all kinds of goodies. So of course, with my shoe fetish, I had to stop and take a look and there was no going back. 

The pleasure of trying on these slippers standing on the edge of the pavement while hearing the cacophony of traffic behind you, wiping the sweat off your brow in the 80 degree weather and balancing precariously with one hand on your friend's shoulder, can only be experienced. I was reliving memories of my youth when pavement shopping was a regular feature given that we had little money but expensive tastes. Well, now, the expensive tastes have graduated to more expensive tastes, so I need to stretch the money when I can.

Needless to say, after much back and forth I was the proud owner of two fancy slippers for half the price that I would pay at a regular mall.  The ownership is only part of the fun.  The real joy comes in bragging rights about your wonderful bargain find and taking an insane pleasure in the looks of envy, disappointment and surprise from fellow mates who have paid the higher price.  Next time you visit India, friends, I have all these finds earmarked for you!

Changing gears a bit, since this is my anniversary special, I also wanted to spout some philosophy into the mix.  Bear with me as I turn a little nostalgic and share with you lessons learned. The last year has been all about adventure, aggravation, frustration, reconciliation and acceptance, and not always in that order. But time, the eternal healer does work wonders on the human mind.  What have I learned in the past 12 months?

Expect the unexpected
                        Bollywood may be bogus, but they definitely transport you to another  
                        realm, so ENJOY and don't OVERTHINK IT
                                                                            Always be prepared
         Suspect the worst in any situation and of any person
Cultivate relationships as that is the only way to make things work
                                        KEEP MASLOW's hierarchy in mind (When lower level
                                        needs are not met, don't expect higher level values like ethics)
See the rainbow beyond the smoke and pollution
            Perpetual Weddings, events, family gatherings are a part of everyday life, and
            the sooner you embrace them, the better.
Be the change you want to see no matter how difficult it may seem!

And finally, LIFE Is what you make of it.  You are the driver, set your GPS and  drive to your DESTINATION

Adios, readers.  Hope you enjoyed the Anniversary & Concluding blog!


 

Off the Beaten Path...

Hello, hello, hello!!  The weather is turning hot, the sun is shining brightly, lawn is turning yellow, all signs that the Indian summer is upon us.  While the ceiling fans run fast and furious, the Giridhar household is seriously contemplating investing in a couple of AC units.  I do admit, all those years of cushy living in the US has made us weak.

Life for most of us is as usual.  After a brief visit to Bangalore to participate in the festivities of my young nephew's engagement, while the rest of the boys are off to school, work etc,  my days are spent overseeing dust bunnies that my maid has missed and a futile attempt to lose some extra weight before June when I will have to go back to Bangalore for a couple of weddings.  I know what you are thinking.  I have the whole day ahead of me to indulge in any kind of exercise regimen, but it does not really work like that. 

But I really wanted to share with you another phenomenon that is so typically Indian.  And I am curious to hear your comments so please be generous.  For the last few days, traders in Pune are protesting the implementation of a new Local Body Tax (LBT).  The form of protest is to keep their shutters down and not do any business hoping that when citizens start getting inconvenienced, the Government will sit up and take notice.  Of course, while I am sympathetic to their cause, I am a selfish individual and the aggravation of doing without our usual groceries was eating at my patience.  So the third day of the strike, I am determined to find a loaf of bread.  After finding the supermarket closed, I went to another local store that specialises in all things expat and found that their bread and milk shelves were totally empty.  Customers like me were foraging for food anywhere they could find. 

Well, not one to give up easily, I told my driver to take me to another medium sized supermarket.  To my chagrin, they had a 'CLOSED' sign on the main door.  I spotted workers inside, so in a desperate attempt, I ran up to the main doors, and waved frantically to catch the eye of a worker.  In sign language, I gesticulated that I needed to come inside.  He waved me around to the back.  Not seeing any way of getting to the back, I looked back helplessly and asked where I should enter.  (All in sign language, so readers, you know this was dumb charades at its finest.)

Imagine my surprise when this worker came out from inside what looked like a "pan" (see below for explanation) shop and took me down a hidden flight of steps to an equally nondescript elevator which actually worked and opened into the main store.  My joy knew no bounds as I saw juices, eggs , bread and all the things I wanted on my list, except for cornflakes stocked on the shelves.

Jubilant and ecstatic, I headed back to the elevator to make my clandestine exit.  Here lay another surprise.  Two shop girls directed me to the stairs saying the elevator did not go to the ground floor.  Thinking they were pulling a fast one, I went in anyway and frantically pushed '0'.  Nothing happened and then my knight in shining armor, the same worker who showed me the back door, came in, punched in a code number and magically, the doors closed and we were down on the ground floor.  Having thanked him profusely, I came home victorious.

Now folks, as is my wont, I like to analyze everything.  If this same situation had confronted me six months ago, my brain being lulled by existence in the most developed nation, would take the 'CLOSED' sign at face value and quietly go back.  However, now I have realized that there is no black or white in India, only several shades of grey.............Maybe the secret to why we can survive and thrive anywhere in the world.  We are genetically programmed from birth to challenge and deviate from 'Status Quo'......

(pan shop : a tiny mom & pop shop operating out of a shack)

Of Aspirations, Attachments and more....

Greetings, dear readers.   It is good to be back with another reflection on the impact of life here in India.  This is going to be a philosophical debate and I am looking forward to getting your observations/comments on this post. 

As you have all come to know and envy, I have a wonderful cook who has made my life so much easier.  Everyday we are eating fresh, homemade food, with hot chappatis off the griddle.  Sorry, not trying to make you envious, but just could not resist.  What can I say?  I am only human.  But the story is not about the cook, but her adopted niece who accompanies her from time to time probably an apprentice in training.  She is all of 22 years old, has studied upto 11th standard and is a very pretty, demure and pleasant young girl whom I will call Roja for our purposes.

Since I am always curious about youngsters and their dreams and aspirations, I engaged her in conversation to find out what she wanted to do in life.  I come to find out that she is waiting for her parents to find a 'suitable boy' for her so she can be married and complete that aspect of her life.  In the interim, she is tagging along with her 'aunt', picking up cooking skills and other domestic duties, which I presume will be a very important criterion for the groom/groom's family when they come to 'see' the bride.  So, of course my curiosity is piqued and I ask her:  So what kind of husband would you like?

From the puzzled/slightly taken aback look that confronted me, I fathomed that she had never been asked this question.  Roja's response floored me.  She said, I want a 'good man'.  And that got me thinking.  How many of us can say that we approached marriage (a lifelong commitment for most people) with just that one aspiration:  a good man.........?



 

A Bagfull of Patience.....

Hello dear readers,
I am back after a long absence!  We are now five months into our sojourn back into India and the saga continues.  I have realised that to retain your sanity and enjoy life in new India, you have got to have not just a spoonful but a bagfull of patience.  To those who know me as a very calm, collected individual; you should see me now - "a ranting & raving Suneetha". Giri can attest to that.

Remember Murphy's law, well I want to introduce a new one,  Indian Law:  What can be simple MUST always be complicated. 

Keep this simple logic in mind next time you visit India or have the wonderful gift of landing an opportunity to live here.  I find myself raving about the simple pleasures of the US.  no, I am not talking about luxury or opulence.  Having good, clean drinking water all the time,  nice, clean roads where you encounter a maniac maybe once in two years, all record keeping/administrative affairs can happen with a phone call and sometimes on the net.

Doesn't seem like much, does it now?  Pretty low down on the Maslow's hierarchy of needs.  But come to India, you once again have to fight for basic needs.  We have been buying water for the last couple of weeks due to the fear that our water supply may have been contaminated.   Forget about nice, clean roads, these days I consider myself lucky if I reach my destination in one piece. 

Today I braved an auto.  (the three wheeled tuk tuks that function as a taxi)  Every one of these tuk tuks have a meter but price is set according to how 'green' you look.  Which, one look at my face and the bewildered look that I constantly have (despite my best efforts), the price tag goes up by 10-15%.  The thing that gets me is the attitude that I am going to fleece you for whatever you are gullible enough to spare.  These days I ask Lord Ganesha not riches and wealth, but some large doses of patience, so I don't pull out either my hair or somebody else's hair..  Right now, our driver is our most valued employee!!

Some other things that add to the general aggravation:  carpenter doesn't show up when promised, LPG gas cylinder delivery boys demand Diwali bakshish (tip), in the rudest way imaginable.  As though it is their birthright!!  Obviously, they have not heard that you can catch more flies with honey......

In what might appear to be the last straw, last week we had a scare with an unwelcome visitor to our backyard.  A little snake, yes that is not a typo, there was indeed a snake (although unconfirmed, appears to have been a viper, a poisonous variety)  Now, of course we are all a little more careful.  I can bet that chasing snakes is never part of anyone's routine out there. 

I have now realised why  Indians don't smile.  Between fighting for water and space, if you have to chase away snakes on the one weekend you want to be in peace, who can blame you for carrying a frown on your face all the time!!  Because you never know what is around the bend. 

So long folks.  As people in India like to say, "It is like that only......"

Shopping Scars

The new India is a strange phenomenon!  Dear readers, as a newly returned Indian, I have a different lens with which I view things and boy! o boy!, have things changed!!  This change demands new coping techniques.

On the one hand, there is a surge in personal disposable income among the middle class and there is evidence of that in the malls, eating joints and upscale events.  On the other hand, we are still a crude, rude bunch of people.  There is a local mart that I frequent for my daily groceries.  It is the closest to the Wal-Marts, Meijers we are used to and I enjoy the luxury of browsing for my goods before buying them.  However, that is where the resemblance ends.  At the entrance, you feel like you are going through security clearance at the airport as your bags are checked, and locked tight with zip-ties.  Yes, you heard me,  you cannot access your bag until you get to the checkout counter where the zip-ties are cut by the clerk, so you can pay for the goods you bought. 

Once inside, there is no luxury of casually strolling through the aisles, reading the tags, and taking your time at it.  The impatient shoppers behind you will think nothing of butting you in the rearend to give you a subtle hint that you are in their way.  And God help you if you ever go on a weekend or holiday.  There is danger of getting serious injuries by rushing carts, falling goods and angry shoppers just waiting for a good fight.  It is a Black Friday every weekend!

Another unique aspect which is so totally Indian is the fact that there are at least 2 shopping assistants for every customer.  I know what you are thinking.  That would be wonderful to get the help you need, right?  Wrong.  If you ask them somehting, the likelihood of them actually helping you is slim to none.  Most of them don't know where things are stocked or they are too busy being angry at their boss to really help you.

Now, dear reader, I am sure you are thinking that this is a rant.  But it is all about coping.  Here are some of techniques that I am developing to survive in this new India.

I take a small purse that fits in my pocket, so I don't have to go through the security check or have my purse tied.  I pick mornings on weekdays to shop and thus avoid the long and angry shoppers line.  I have even managed to get a reluctant smile from the cashier by flashing a bright and cheery smile and actually making small talk. 

And finally for the butt rammers, I am working on getting this T-shirt in adult size.  Do you think it is too subtle??

So long, folks.  Got to work on some other coping methods that I will surely write to you about.

If you have other sugggestions, leave a comment.

The domain of domestic help

One of the things that causes my friends in the US envy is the abundance and availability of domestic help which seems like such an extravagant luxury.  Having been here all of 3 weeks, I am seeing both the abundance and availability.  However we underestimate the management aspect of these domestic workers.

Let me introduce you to my two housemaids.  They are an interesting duo. 

Meet Rekha, the Negotiator -  She talks nineteen to the dozen, drives a hard bargain and always has an opinion about how things should be done, specifically about cleaning.  If I ask her to do something, I can count on her to suggest another method or follow another routine.  Initially, I indulged her until she told me that I should use acid to clean some stains on the floor.  After that, I kept a close eye on her and insisted that she follow what I tell her. 

Parvathy the Worker bee - My second maid is the sister in law of Rekha, a quiet, composed lady about 4 foot 10 inches, as tall as my Rahul.  She does not talk much, but is happy to follow directions and do what she is asked to do.  Also seems to have a better knack for cleaning than her sister-in-law.  Despite that, the first couple of weeks, I found more stains on the walls after they started work ; as they would support themselves by putting dirty hands on the walls and I found myself repeating "Quit touching the walls" constantly.  Hopefully after our furniture arrives, the walls will be spared. 

On a happy note, Rekha is now employed elsewhere, courtesy of her husband, who died a premature alcoholic induced death.  Now, the office where he worked has offered her a consolation job.  Parvathy continues to be my main maid and I am looking forward to training her.

After observing several of our family and friends and their entourage of servants, and also a brief interlude with my own househelp,  I have come to the conclusion that there are three things that one must keep in mind when using domestic help.

1.  Clear Directions:  This brings to mind for me as an HR person the critical nature of a 'Job Description'.  While nothing as formal as that exists here, the trick is to spell out clearly before closing the deal, exactly what is entailed in the job. 

2.  Constant Supervision:  Your domestic help may have been with you for years, yet the job demands that you keep a close eye on details. 

3.  Prior Planning:  As a household manager, you constantly have to plan the task list for the help.  If you don't, you have lost out because none of them are going to have the initiative to take charge and do what needs to be done.
My experience with my domestic help is still in its early stages.  There is a lot that I need to learn.  I am finding that I am more exhausted with getting work done with this help than I was doing it myself. I am going to work on all the three competencies that I have detailed for you, dear readers.  Wish me luck!!!

Welcome to India

Sorry readers.  I have had a longer absence, but when you hear what I have been through, I am sure you will be very sympathetic. 

June 29th, 2012 was a very momentous day for us. 
Following the lean principles of Just in Time, we closed at 8:30, packers left at 12.30, we cleaned house and handed over the keys at 6:00 pm.  And then we were homeless, just like that!  I could write about the feeling of emptiness or the melancholy of separating from a life you have built over 14 years.  But that would be depressing and I am sure my readers can understand and empathize with those sentiments.

On July 7th, at 4:30 am, our plane landed in Pune.  We had just 9 pieces of checked in luggage and 4 carry on suitcases.  We believe in travelling light... Just kidding.  There were a few anxious moments as we wondered if we would be harassed by the Indian Customs authorities for the many pieces of luggage we were carrying and also the jewellery that I was taking back.  However, that turned out to be an empty fear.   There is something unique in India where your senses are constantly bombarded with noises, and smells that you get inured to over time.  But the first time you exit the aircraft and enter the airport, you are assailed by strange smells and sounds that can be daunting to the faint at heart. 

Everything went smoothly, there were two large jeeps waiting to take us to our new abode, about 35 minutes from the airport.  And thus began our new journey.  The house is empty except for our suitcases and about 2 inches of dust accumulated over the three weeks that Giri was away.  First priority for me after a clean bath was coffee.  Of course we had no milk in the house.  And then as I was glancing outside, I noticed the milk delivery guy on his bicycle stopping at the neighbours house.  I ran outside and asked him for milk  and also told him to deliver every morning moving forward.  As easy as that, we had milk.  While I was talking to him, the lady next door stopped me.  Apparently, Giri's uncle had left some packages for us in the neighbours house.  She brought them out for me.  Juices, Water, sandwiches, everything we needed for our first morning survival was there.   This also allowed me to meet the neighbour who was very friendly and helpful.  While the concept of this total stranger agreeing to house the food and packages for an unknown neighbour was alien to us, I hear from friends that this is typical in India.  If you are not home, nobody hesitates to ask the neighbour to keep your stuff whether it is mail, returned dry cleaning etc.  Kind of a fringe benefit.

Sunday, the first order of business was to find a maid to do the housework.  Again to the western world this may seem presumptous and indolent, but life in India revolves around domestic help. We interviewed two maids from  a nearby village and after an exciting exchange with some pantomiming thrown in by me much to the amusement of our kids,  we acquired some help for the first month for the princely sum of $22. 


So long for now.  In the next post, I will explain to you the unique human resource skills needed to manage the household, domestic help.  It is an art dear readers and I am learning from people around me who have been doing it successfully for a long time.

Craigs list Cronies

I promised you that I would write about our customers from Craigslist.  Each one of them has an interesting angle that I am sure you will find interesting.

Crony 1:  Here was a guy that wanted to buy our treadmill for his girlfriend. I made sure to tell him that he needed a truck to haul it.  He said he planned to bring his brother who had a truck and it would be no problem hauling it. 

At 5:00 pm, Crony 1 arrived in a car (not a truck) with brother and a gal (girlfriend who gets the treadmill) after calling us at least a half dozen times to get the address right.  I think Giri skipped a few heartbeats when he saw the two huge burly men with full body tattoos get out of a run-down sedan.  Needless to say with all the dire straits Giri had warned me about, I don't mind admitting I had a few nervous thoughts myself and asked my son and his friend to go back up Dad.  The boys took one look at the customers and conveniently disappeared into their room.  Saving my husband fell to me and I followed him outside where I found him deep in conversation with the visitors as he told them the treadmill would not fit in a car.  But the guys opened the boot and showed the deep interior and said they would manage.  Very well then, they came down, saw the treadmill, hauled it up, out the house and into the boot with half the treadmill hanging out.  Crony 1 took out $50, gave it to us, wished us a safe journey, shook our hands and left.

Very anticlimactic with all the buildup our nervous imagination had led us to believe. 

Crony 2: The next interaction with the second customer for our snowblower was uneventful.  He came, he saw, he paid and he left.  Again, no ax murderer. 

Crony 3: The next two guys who came for the couch were thrilled to bits when they saw the deal they were getting for $10.  They were almost embarrassed to give us the $10 to take away the couch.  When Giri threw in the boom box at no cost, we had a couple of happy campers! 

Crony 4: Our fans were taken away by an asian lady who came in, was very polite and wanted to ensure that both fans worked and the oscillating function was demonstrated before paying me, taking them away after wishing me a safe journey and that she understood how hard this would be for the family.  I got a sympathetic ear from our Craigslist Crony # 4

The last Crony:  This last item took 4 days to generate interest and we had almost given up hope when an email popped up from a guy who wanted the VHS player and tapes.  He came in full of life, spent a few minutes asking about our move, gave Tarun some advice about not marrying young and coming back to MI for education.  Almost like a close friend, he wished us luck, took the box and left.

Sometimes the way our mind works is so influenced by media and the horror stories that make it to the news that we are colored in our expectations of life.  I must say that contrary to our initial apprehensions, we had a very good experience using Craigslist and met some interesting characters along and way.  Would we do it again!  You betcha.........

Connecting with Craig's List!!

We are into our second day of packing.  It is unbelievable the amount of stuff (can't call it by any other name)  we have collected in 14 years.  While most of it is coming with us, we did have a few big items that we needed to dispose.  And thus started our close encounters with Craigslist.  My first hurdle was to convince my husband who believes that this is like extending a personal invitation to the dark side and that we are asking for trouble.  However, when I told him that we would leave in 2 weeks and the dark side would have a long way to travel to reach us, he relented.  As a parent, I am always looking for real life opportunities to teach my children.  so I presented my 16 year old son,Tarun with a project.  Establish a Craiglist account, take pictures of the items to sell and post it.  If we get any takers, the money was his to keep.  Of course, being the typical teenager with expensive tastes, he embraced the project with open arms. 

Tip #1:  When you place ads on Craigslist, be prepared to check your emails every few minutes.  Craigslist shoppers are an impatient bunch and I was chided for not responding immediately to their inquiries.  (of course, due to my lethargy, I had one guy bid $10 higher for the same item just to 'close the deal' as he thought I was holding out for more money) 

Tip #2:  You know you priced an item too low when you have a dozen takers within 10 minutes of posting.

To date Tarun has sold 5 of the 7 items he posted on Craig and pocketed a $150.  Not bad for a few minutes of work.  Of course, now he is scouring the house looking for items to sell and his brother's (Rahul) toys are fair game.  After much debate, he finally accepted defeat and retired gracefully.  Now he is making plans to go to the mall to dispose of his 'hard-earned' cash.

Keep tuned in for the next blog post which will introduce you to some of the characters the Giridhar household encountered during this whole saga.

In 2011, my husband and I made a monumental decision to pack up and move back to India after spending 14 wonderful years in Michigan.  This was by no means an easy decision with so many concerns and emotional baggage to consider not just for my husband and I but for our two kids aged 16 and 9 who are mostly American. To them India was a crowded, noisy place we visited every other year to meet with Ajjis and Thathas (Grandmas and Grandpas) and aunts and uncles and remote cousins who indulged their every whim.  As we are going through this transition, I decided to share my experiences, comments and concerns along the way.  At best, this can be a useful resource for those that go through similar transitions.  At the very least, it is a memoir for us to revisit when we are old.

Disclaimer:  The thoughts that will be expressed in this blog are candid, honest and brutally frank, intended to give the reader a realistic perception.  Any comparisons that are drawn of the two countries is merely for deliberation and I request my friends in India and America to see this as such and not take offense.