My first plane left at 3:35 a.m. The rest of the trip, it was hard to know what time it was. It was easier to keep track of what day it was because I knew that I was leaving on January 12, and also returning on January 12, even though the trip was over 25 hours. There's an 11.5 hour time difference, and you lose the time on the way over, and get it back on the return trip.
The taxi ride was a bit exciting. It arrived about 45 minutes later than I expected, and involved several phone calls from my clinic hosts to the taxi company. The driver assured me that he'd get me there in plenty of time, and he did. I thought that at one in the morning, there wouldn't be much traffic. Traffic was lighter than during the day, but in some ways crazier. My cab drive did a lot of honking as several times vehicles were coming directly at us with their headlights on. One of these vehicles was a wide truck/cart with hay hanging over the sides. He wove around them and mentioned that a lot of drivers at this time have been drinking, so it's not really safe to be out. We did talk about how wonderful Hyderabad people are. He said that everyone there is equal to each other -- Muslims and Hindus respect each other and are not "angry on each other" and that makes for a nice atmosphere. The driver said his schedule is 15 days on night shift, then 15 days on the day shift. A previous drive told me that he's on duty 7 days/week and had been driving a taxi for 13 years! This driver asked me how long I had been at the clinic and how happy I was. He often does the airport runs for this clinic and meets people from all over the world this way. After he asked me about my happiness level, he told me about a previous patient who had been
very happy. She was a young woman whose fingers were curled over and she couldn't bend them when she arrived. On the return trip, she could straighten them out. He was demonstrating all of this while maneuvering through the traffic. She was so happy, she asked him if he preferred his tip in rupees or dollars. He said she tipped him $50 (for a $10 taxi ride). I said she must have been
very happy AND
very rich! We had been told that a reasonable and fair tip was 50 rupees (about $1.25) I think he wished I was happier and richer! At the airport, my luggage was passed to a man who had a cart. I had been warned that the carts are free and that I shouldn't let anyone convince me that I needed them to help me. However, at this point, it was a lot easier not to argue, and I was happy to be at the airport. I quickly realized how valuable the "cart man" was. He knew exactly what lines I needed to be in and maneuvered me through the crowds and got me to the right line. The signage in Indian airports isn't that great, or perhaps I just don't understand the language they are posted in so I don't really see them. I was happy to tip this man 40 rupees. He would have been happy with 10, but by now, I was
very happy and I liked his manner and efficiency and felt he deserved a generous tip. My last tip in India was when I used the rest room and the lady at the door offered me a roll of toilet paper and showed me to a clean Western style toilet stall. She didn't ask for a tip, but I thought I should give her something, so I gave her 2 rupees. It was probably the appropriate amount, but she said no, it was 10 rupees. Luckily, I had one more 10 rupee note and gave it to her, again, glad of her services. While I was waiting for boarding, I found a postcard to Mom that I hadn't mailed yet and started looking around for a "letter box". I didn't see many of those in India, and didn't get the lay of the land for where they keep them. I asked a room attendant, who was making sure that everyone's hand baggage was properly security-tagged and that people were sitting down rather than walking around to stretch before the 10+ hour flight (I know that was one of the duties because another attendant had asked me to sit down.) The attendant said there wasn't a letter box around there and I should just mail it when I got to the next airport (Amsterdam) or to the U.S. I told her it wouldn't work with the Indian stamps. So she said she would personally mail it for me. I thought that was thoughtful of her. She didn't ask, nor did I even think of tipping her. Mom, I'll be curious if you ever get the postcard. Even if she mails it soon, I don't think it will come for a couple of months.
Before going to the airport, I had been blessed and garlanded by the in-residence pandit. It seemed that most people remove their garlands before they leave the house, but I decided to leave mine on. I think it helped while going through security. The "frisk" lady mentioned what a nice garland it was.
The only delay on the legs of the trip was in Detroit while waiting for the Cedar Rapids plane to board. Close to take-off time, they announced that there was a delay due to not knowing where the flight attendant was. As soon as she was located, they would be able to board us. I appreciated their honesty, though it was the funniest excuse I've heard! John met me at the airport, and now I'm home and doing well at adjusting to the difference in temperature, time zone, climate and people. It was a wonderful trip; it's also nice to be home again.
This design was outside a home that was on an alley just across from a tailor's shop. The story I heard on the origin of these designs is: before walkways and streets were paved, it could get quite dusty outside the home. To prevent dust from being walked inside, cow dung (which I was told does not harbor bacteria) was spread over the dirt. Then a design was made on it using rice powder. This rice powder was an offering for the ants. If they fed the ants on the outside, they might be satisfied and not come in the house. These days, the cow dung step is skipped, at least where there's concrete.
There are clotheslines all over for hanging laundry to dry. There is a small washing machine on the roof, and numerous buckets for washing the clothes. I don't think anyone has a clothes dryer; everyone hangs clothes outside of windows, or the front porch, or wherever they can, even in the best of neighborhoods. Another energy efficient technique the Indians use. (I got "scolded" for doing my own laundry by the lady who sweeps the house. She said Lakshmi does the laundry. It is a bit difficult for me, but I think it is both pride in one's work, and job security that I don't do my own.) After the laundry dries, they leave stacks, something like my mother used to leave after the family's laundry was done and folded, and everyone picks up their own clothes -- on a bench on the roof. I wonder what they do during monsoon season?
That same night, for the 1st time since coming to India, I saw stars! I recognized Orion. The patch that was visible was not too large; it seemed to be a break in the clouds that was quite beautiful. In the city, I don't know if I forgot to look up, or if the skies were hazy or cloudy, or if there was too much light -- probably some combination of the above -- so I didn't see stars like I often do in my own backyard. A couple days later, in the early morning, I saw the sunrise.
Another thing that takes place on the roof is traditional vedic ceremonies which the pandit performs. A brick firepit is built right near the middle of the rooftop with laundry hanging on a couple of sides and people watching from the other 2 sides. No one minds a multipurpose room here; in fact, most rooms I've seen have many purposes.
