Waiting...waiting...waiting for Apartment Contract

Friday, August 31, 2018
Bombay

      Namaste from Bombay!
     Once again I was spoiled by the wait staff at the Dining Hall of the West End Hotel where I breakfasted on idlis with sambhar and coconut chutney, channa batura and a freshly made dosa over hot coffee.  I could get used to these morning treats! Then I showered and dressed and left for my Dad’s place in Bandra on the local suburban train with which I am now feeling very familiar.
     Today was meant to be devoted to helping my Dad and my brother Russel fill out their passport renewal application forms. As I do not have internet connections yet (I am waiting to install them in my new studio), I suggested we go to the local printing outfit where, with the help of the shop assistant, we could carry out our intentions.  However, after calling Ajit, the man who runs the shop, we were kept waiting all day for him to get back to us and let us know when would be a good time to come—the store is small and tends to get very crowded with local students getting forms filled online. It was a waiting game for most of the day.
     I had also received the contract from my landlord and had gone over its clauses and had requested many minor changes.  This delayed the registration process that was supposed to take place today as his legal team needed to approve my recommendations for change. That was another long waiting game. During the day, I was able to hop across to the bank and obtain the new passbook I had ordered, initiate internet banking and pick up forms relating to my Dad’s bank accounts.  Because my Dad is not computer savvy, he still uses old-fashioned things such as passbooks and checks entries carefully as he is skeptical about identity fraud and does not fully trust computers!
    After lunch, I had a short nap and then spent time drafting my August newsletter.  By the time the evening rolled up, I was ready to go to Mass with my Dad, have an early dinner and leave the house for my train ride back to downtown Bombay.
     On my return to the hotel, I finally received the revised draft of my housing contract, was able to review it and confirm that I will be at the contract ‘closing’ tomorrow at noon with my cousin Veera accompanying me. By then, I was ready to fall asleep.
      It had seemed like an endless day of waiting for something to happy. We never did get down to filling Dad’s passport renewal forms as Ajit never did call back—something to which I have to get accustomed in Bombay!~ We will now postpone the chore until early next week.
      On a more negative note, I have what seems like Strep Throat. It is sore, raspy and irritated and brings on an occasional cough. Is this the result of the infamous air pollution in Bombay???
     Until tomorrow...

More Banking Issues Sorted, Shopping for Kitchen Appliances, Tea with Friends

Thursday, August 30, 2018

Bombay

More Banking Issues Sorted, Buying Kitchen Appliances, Meeting Girlfriends for Tea

Namaste from Bombay!

My life seems to have flitted into fairly easy routine. After awaking at the West End Hotel (where I am beyond comfortable), I feasted on breakfast of a freshly-made masala omlete, a chicken sausage, baked beans and salami) with fruit and coffee and left immediately for my Dad’s place in Bandra on the suburban train—I am already feeling like a pro in navigating my way through the ancient commuter rail system. Somehow, in the midst of the teeming millions to which it caters, it still works! I tried to get a rickshaw at Bandra station but the drivers disdained my patronage. I went and stood in the bus queue and within minutes, two buses came along and I had a seat and was at destination in less than ten minutes.  The BEST bus system is yet another miracle of commuter public transport in Bombay.  I have always loved them (as much as I love the red buses in London) and I continue to do so. Because most middle class people now have their own transport, I find the buses actually not just quite empty (on the routes through which I ply) but a pleasure to use. I know...you probably think I am nuts, but thankfully, I do not possess the snobbery that makes the use of public transport in Bombay below my station or my dignity.

Getting Foreign Exchange, Banking Work and Lunch:

The morning passed swiftly as I awaited the arrival of the foreign exchange agent I usually use for changing my money.  In the next couple of days, I will need to make a lot of big ticket transactions as I pay for the deposit on my studio, first month’s rent, realtor’s commission, etc. plus buy the few appliances I will need to get me started.  The Indian rupee has sunk to a new low against the dollar—which gave me an excellent exchange rate. The Indian government has liberalized the economy so much that it is now possible to have fully legal exchange control operators furnish the needs of customers at rates preferable to those offered by Indian banks. Hence, the exchange was effortless.

I needed then to get to my bank immediately to deposit the money so that I can write checks in the next couple of days. Fortunately, the bank is right across the road from my Dad’s driveway and I am becoming known to the banking personnel who always treat me with courtesy. It was a pleasure working with Rachna Shroff, for instance, an extraordinarily patient and courteous Parsi lady, who put me through the paces and is initiating me into the intricacies of Indian banking—a fun learning curve for me!

Shopping for Kitchen Appliances with my Interior Decorator Friend:

Luckily for me, I have very close friends in Bombay who are more than willing to lend me a hand with my move and resettlement.  I had made plans to meet my friend Nafisa who is a Singapore-trained, top-notch interior decorator. She came from Byculla, where she lives, to Bandra, to take a look at my studio and give me some ideas for how I could best utilize the minimalist space. She has recently traveled with me in Italy—so it was great to see her again. 

 She loved my place and the atmosphere evoked by the swaying coconut palms in the building’s compound. She assessed the place with her expert eye and gave me the considered benefit of her advice which I much appreciated. We then decided to take a rickshaw to Linking Road so that I could take a look at a few kitchen appliances—smart TV, microwave oven, electric kettle. We started off at Chroma where Nafisa gave me the benefit of her advice which I found extremely helpful. 

At Theo Broma, a fancy French patisserie, next door, we stopped for coffee and cake (delicious hazelnut eclairs) while awaiting the arrival of my friend Shahnaz who did arrive and settled down with us for coffee.  Shahnaz told me not to buy a TV as she would loan me one! I was absolutely thrilled as it will save me investing on a big-ticket item that I will only use for a short time. She also offered to help me with my move. I feel blessed to have such close friends who are more than willing to put themselves out for me. After buying a loaf of raisin-nut bread and a few croissants (almond, pain de chocolat and plain) from Theo Broma for my Dad and Russel, I said goodbye to my friends and left to return home.

Mass and Dinner with my Dad:

Meanwhile, upon my return home, I discovered that my landlord-to-be had my rental contract ready to be emailed to me.  I was on the phone with him for a bit before I left for 7.30 pm Mass with my Dad. The Novena for Bandra Feast  to our Lady of the Mount, as she is known, (September 8) had begun and the service was conducted by children. I found it exceedingly boring and very tedious to sit through a long-winded and horridly delivered sermon of over 15 minutes! This is the reason why I am not a fan of Indian priests—really poor preachers put their congregations through the ordeal of having to listen to them. Give me the Anglican preachers of England, dear God, and I will gladly attend three Masses a day!

Grumbling all the way home to my Dad, I settled down for a quick dinner and left for my hotel where I reached at 9.45 pm. As I said, this time too I jumped into a bus that took me to Bandra station where the General First Class compartment whizzed me to my destination at Churchgate speedily and comfortably. I did not waste too much time before watching a bit of TV and getting to bed.

Until tomorrow...

 

First Meeting at St. Xavier’s College, a Musical Treat from Dr. Chandranath Chattopadhaya

Wednesday, August 29, 2018

Meeting my Mentor at Sr. Xavier’s College and Attending an Interdisciplinary Lecture-Demonstration. 

Namaste from Bombay!

I awoke very early in my West End Hotel room, blogged, caught up with email (Thank Heavens for the WiFi in such places) and then went down to the Dining Hall for Breakfast at 8.00 am. Once again, I was greeted by a bevy of waiters eager to please. I decided to stick with an Indian breakfast today and I enjoyed a hot idli, vada and sambhar with superb coffee.  A waiter asked if I would like to have an omelette—I told him, No thanks, I will stick to an Indian breakfast today.  He then asked if I would like a dosa. Now who can resist a dosa hot off the griddle? I said I would love to have one. And ten minutes later, he produced this crisp and delicious treat with accompanying sambhar and coconut chutney—so good! With fresh tropical fruit (papaya, watermelon, pineapple), it made a marvelous start to my day.  I am so grateful for this hotel room that is offering me the space to be alone, get my work done, have the meetings I need to get started on my research and yet be close enough to see Dad daily.

A Meeting at St. Xavier’s College:

Talking of meetings, I had one scheduled today at 12. 15 pm at St. Xavier’s College with Dr. Pearl Pastakia, Head of the Department of English, who will function as my Fulbright supervisor. Accordingly, I showered, dressed a bit more formally than I would for the Bombay tropics and walked to St. Xavier’s College.  I thought it would take me about half an hour—but it took me only twelve minutes.  Since I was very early, I explored the three quadrangles that make up this lovely Victorian Gothic structure that was built in the late 1800s. Being at Xavier’s for the year will undoubtedly give me a chance to explore its history and learn a little more about the college and its founding. 

The canteen was abuzz with noisy, talkative students enjoying their break. I went past it to find a little corner of the college where I got out of the heat and settled down with my Ipad to continue reading.  I have downloaded the new biography of Prince Charles by Sally Bedell Smith and I am enjoying it very much indeed. I have gone through his rather lonely childhood and confused adolescence that included three years at Trinity College. Cambridge, and have just reached the point where he met the then still single Camilla Shand for the first time. Although he is deeply smitten by her, she is less impressed and only flirts gently with him. She apparently, only had eyes for Andrew Parker-Bowles with whom she fell deeply in love and whom she married. What a gossipy look at Royal life the book is!

My meeting with Pearl went off really well.  She is the sweetest person—soft-spoken, gentle, charming. She greeted me warmly and welcomed me to Xaviers. I thanked her for the work she put in, on my behalf, to bring me to Xavier’s as a Fulbrighter. We met in the ‘Staff Room’ of the College that includes a wide balcony that overlooks a patch of greenery. 

Pearl then took me on a tour of the college. She showed me the classrooms, the Multi-Media Room (where, a few years ago, I had given a lecture), the canteen, the administrative offices, the Room occupied by the Department of English. It is a real pleasure to walk through their historic Gothic corridors that are kept in fairly good condition.  Maintaining these spaces must be a labor nightmare and I could quite understand why they look so worn out—dust is a real curse in the Indian atmosphere and every surface of the college seemed dust-ridden including the English Department where Pearl had hoped to provide me with a corner in which I could work. 

Pearl also took me to meet the outgoing Principal, Angelo Menezes who had arranged for my stay as a Fulbrighter at Xaviers.  I expressed my gratitude to him for facilitating my arrival in Bombay as a Fulbright Fellow and for providing the paper work that had made the appointment possible. When we talked about office space for me, he was far from forthcoming and I shall have to find a way to resolve the impasse. It is impossible for me to believe that on a campus that houses three quadrangles and so many hidden nooks and crannies, one cannot carve out space for a Visiting Scholar.  We shall see...I am ever the optimist. 

A Most Unexpected Musical Treat:

  Pearl then told me that she would be delighted if I could stay for a lecture-demo by a Bengali poet-scholar-performer named Dr. Chandranath Chattopadhaya who was winding down a series of 15 lectures he had conducted for students of interdisciplinary studies by presenting his final session that afternoon. She had asked his permission to bring me to the session and he was delighted to have me. By the end of it, I was simply enthralled. Quite unexpectedly, I found myself in the presence of a multi-talented individual whose work combines Comparative Literature (English and Bengali poetry of the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries) with Indian music as a singer and composer. As if his own contribution to contemporary transcultural studies is inadequate, he also happens to be the great grandson of Bankim Chandra Chatterjee who is well known to readers of Bengali and English Poetry in English as the author of the Indian patriotic song, Vande Mataram. You can just imagine how privileged I felt to have had the chance to meet him. His daughter Jiniya  was also present and she did much of the singing. What a wonderful thing—to pass on your talents and your interests to your daughter. I thought the father-daughter duo were a true delight to hear. 

What Chandranath did, through his lecture, was bring Victorian (Robert Burns) and even Shakespearean poetry (he referred to the work of Ben Jonson—‘To Celia’—“Drink to me only with thine eyes...”) to the attention of the students and to juxtapose it against the work of Indian Bengali poets such as Rabindranath Tagore and Kazi Nasrul Islam. He told us personal stories about these poets and the manner in which their exposure to English metrical rhythms led to their imitative compositions. For example, the Scottish ditty ‘Auld Lang Syne’ inspired a response in Bengali from Tagore. Who knew?? He placed the lyrics on a PowerPoint presentation and encouraged the audience of 25 students to sing with him as he played the harmonium. I was amazed at the effortless manner in which he brought Indian colonial history, the stars of the Bengal Renaissance, British attitudes towards Indian composers, the intricacies of performance arts, etc. together to create a vibrant capsule of the kind of music that was influenced by cross-cultural similarity and that continues to be sung in Bengal today.

I saw, from this one day, how easily my Fulbright experience could bring unexpected forces of performance art into my life as a Fellow—in ways that I might not even expect. I was so grateful to Pearl that she included me in this session and to Chandranath for permitting me to participate in it.

Back in Bandra at Dad’s:

Pearl dropped me off in a cab to Marine Lines station from where I took the train to Bandra. I am beginning to feel comfortable using public transport and understanding how the system works—for instance, I had to ask women around me where the First Class Ladies compartment is typically found on a suburban train (right in the front). I also discovered that a lot of ladies ride the General compartment where, I suppose, there is safety in numbers during hours when the crowd is thin (yes, there really is such a thing in Bombay, as I am discovering).

I took a rickshaw to get to my Dad’s building and I spent the evening with him. I was delighted to discover that with some tweaking and a visit to the man who sold me my SIM card, my phone started to work with a Bombay phone number. Hallelulah! I am now connected by phone plus I have internet connections at my finger tips. It makes a world of difference to be able to pick up the phone and be able to reach out to people. 

Somewhat disappointed, I discovered that the registration process for my rental studio has to be rescheduled. I will receive the contract papers in the mail this afternoon after which I shall peruse them carefully and then sign the registration papers on Friday. No matter. This delay gives me a chance to sort out exchange issues with my bank, etc. 

At 6.45 pm, I joined my Dad at the Novena service to Our Mother of Perpetual Succor to whom I have had an enduring devotion since I was 17 years old. This was followed my Mass and a quick dinner at Dad’s before I said goodbye to my Dad and Russel and left for the night at the West End Hotel. I was also pleased with myself that I found a 220 bus pull up at the bus stop just as I got there.  Naturally, I took it and for Rs. 10, I was at the station in the same amount of time as it would have taken in a rickshaw as both vehicles are fighting the same amount of traffic. I took the train to Churchgate and was at my hotel by 9.30 pm. 

On a slightly negative note, I am sorry to say that air pollution in Bombay has already caused an irritation and dryness in my throat. I am hoping that I will gradually develop immunity to it. 

By then I was very sleepy—so I did not waste too much time getting ready for bed and going off to sleep.

Until tomorrow...            

   

Setting up Telecommunication, Banking Woes Sorted and a Birthday Party in Girgaum

Tuesday, August 28, 2018

Getting an Indian  SIM Card, Understanding Internet and Cable Connections, Banking Woes Sorted, And a Birthday Party in Girgaum

Namaste from Bombay!

Through a night of intermittent sleep—awaking every couple of hours but immediately falling asleep again—I awoke to a lovely breakfast in the Dining Hall of the West End Hotel where there was only one other guest. The waiters—retainers from a former era—provided excellent service and were startlingly attentive in an old-fashioned sort of way. I had muesli with hot milk (that was produced magically when I asked for it), an omelette studded with green chilies (yum!), a chicken sausage, a slice of cold roast chicken and salad, and a bowl of tropical fruit—papaya, watermelon and pineapple—and very good coffee.  I am realizing that the West End is one of those hotels that offers old-world graciousness without any fancy frills. I am starting to feel more and more at home here.

Right after breakfast and a shower, I dressed in what I thought would pass for party attire and left the hotel to get to Bandra on the suburban train. Traveling against the office commuter crowd was a breeze. The First Class Ladies compartment was super clean, had very clean ceiling fans with switches that passengers operated as they entered and was almost empty by the time it left Churchgate station.  By Dadar, every seat was taken but it never became packed. I noticed a new station—Prabhadevi—and I asked the girl besides me if it was a new one.  She told me that Elphinstone Road station has had a name change—it is now called Prabhadevi. Funny, but the last time I had taken the train, I had wondered how long it would be before they changed the name of that station—and lo and behold, it had been done.  Now wondering how long it will be before they change the name of my college—Elphinstone College that was named after it’s colonial founder and erstwhile Mayor of Bombay, Mountstuart Elphinstone. No doubt it will be named after a current worthy with a tongue-twisting name.

I arrived in Bandra in less than half an hour, looked for an auto rickshaw and arrived at my dad’s place—fare now Rs. 35. When I had last lived in Bombay, it used to cost me no more than Rs. 3.50 and that had seemed like a luxury I could ill afford! However, it was a dream commute as I went from door to door in 50 minutes! That’s why I love the surburban trains in Bombay—had I been on the road, I’d have been sitting in traffic for two hours! Not my idea of fun!

The morning sped past as I help my Dad deal with a form relating to his Gas Company (Mahanagar Gas Ltd). As Dad’s eyesight is now very weak, my job involves reading the fine print to him and helping him fill forms. He then drafts letters to the companies in relation to his issue with them, I type them, save them on my flash drive and take them to the local printing outfit to get him a printout which he then sends to the recipients through courier.  As I said before, no one uses the postal service in India anymore for local deliveries.  I am slowly coming to grips with the small ways in which life has changed since I left the country. However, the courier service is efficient and inexpensive and one’s work gets accomplished.     

My brother Russel then had a visitor, a parishioner named Felcy, who came to see how he was doing. Visiting with her took another half hour. These old-fashioned customs of visiting the sick are alive and kicking in Bombay and Felcy left a nut and raisin cake for Russel that he was delighted to receive. I will slowly be resuming contact and getting to know the people that Dad and my late Mum have called friends for decades. 

Next, a messenger was sent to Dad’s home to pick up more identification documents from me to hasten the registration of the studio I will most likely be renting. Hopefully, it will all go smoothly.

I next went off to the SIM card supply man who took all the documents he needs from me (copies of passport, OCI card, photograph, proof of current residence) and sold me a plan by Vodaphone which will be activated in 24 hours.  He taught me how to replace my current SIM card (which I shall do tomorrow) and set me up for phone usage for the next 3 months with adequate data availability. I will need to renew the package in 3 months’ time. At Rs. 800, it seemed like a very good deal to me especially as I had unlimited local phone usage (meaning national calls would be free). For an international package, I will need to buy top-up time. It is amazing how I need to learn new local lifestyle conventions with every country in which I live. It is exciting and always seems like a huge adventure to me. With my phone situation sorted, I felt so much more ‘settled’.

Next, I paid a visit to the tiny office of the cable and internet provider who put me very patiently through the paces as he explained the things I would need to buy to set myself up with cable and internet connections once my studio rental goes through. I see that the initial outlay will be quite enormous, but once I have it installed, maintenance charges are probably the cheapest in the world-for the ‘bouquet’ I desire (which includes CNN and BCC). I will be paying about Rs. 350 a month, but payment is made quarterly. Subhash was a pleasure to work with—it was wonderful how clearly he explained to me how such systems work. It is also amazing how ignorant I am about these things and how wonderfully enlightened it feels to come to grips with these technical things.  

That sorted,I returned home to a very late lunch with my Dad—it was almost 2.00 pm and he had waited to eat with me! Throughout our meal, Dad talked. It is so clear to me now from where I my chattiness comes! He sorely misses adult company with whom he can have a stimulating conversation.  We covered Indian politics, the current prospects of Rahul Gandhi, the demonetization report that has just been completed but not yet revealed to the public, etc. Our meals usually stretch on to a couple of hours. 

  I then had to excuse myself to go to my bank, State Bank of India, to find out whether a computer glitch that had manifested itself before my departure for China and South Korea had been sorted. And hallelujah! It had! I tested the system out by depositing some cash and when it was accepted in my account by the computer, I could have hugged the clerk. 

That done, I returned to Dad’s home across the road to find that he had finished drafting his letters to the gas Company and needed me to type them out for him and get them printed. I did that in the next hour. By that time, I was ready for a cup of tea but I found that there were no lemons at home. I settled for a cup of coffee and cake instead and then readied myself for my departure.

Off to a Birthday Party:

It would be more than 30 years since I have been in Bombay for the birthday party of my high school classmate Marianel and so I made it a point to be there. In the old sprawling Portuguese-style bungalow that her ‘East Indian’ family has called an ancestral home for over a century in Khotachiwadi in Girgaum, the birthdays of neighbors bring the entire neighborhood together. Apart from having about an hour alone with her and fixing the guacamole that she left to me to make, I resumed contact with a number of her neighbors and our school classmates. Marianel is an exceptional home chef and she had spent the day cooking—the table was laden with the delicacies that only her gifted hand can turn out: appetizers included ‘gold coins’ (chicken croquettes), pakoras, tuna fish-filled horns, tortilla chips with said guac. The cold beer with which I was furnished turned warm within ten minutes! (Not that Bombay is hot—in fact, it is very pleasant and I am hardly using the AC in my hotel).  On the table were a Fish-Corn Casserole, Mushroom Pullao, Curried Pork, Chicken Wings, Salad, and her specialty Corned Tongue which is one of my favorite things to eat—served with the mustard sauce that she makes from scratch and that is just lovely. For dessert, someone produced a chocolate truffle cake to die for. It was seriously good and appeasing my sweet tooth did not take much persuasion.

It was a lovely way to start my Bombay life—in the company of old friends and making new ones. For I did meet a bunch of folks who were friendly, curious about my current status as a Fulbright Fellow in Bombay, eager to offer tips, friendship and support. There was a newly-published author named Brenda Rodrigues who was passing around a paperback edition of ‘The House at 43 Hill Road’ that has been brought out by Bombay Kala Publishers to which I became introduced for the first time. Another thing I am learning is how much the reading public and publishing opportunities have burgeoned since I last lived in Bombay. It was good to hear that writers have both markets and publishers who show interest in their work.

I had been assured of a ride which was why I did stay as long as I did. By 11. 15, a guest named Karen told me that she could give me a ride as she had a car and a driver. It was a God sent. Girgaum was still buzzing when we left and the streets were still packed with people—what they were doing out at that hour was mysterious to me. Still, I got back to my hotel by 11. 30 and was gallantly escorted to the entrance by Joe, Brenda’s husband. 

Back in my room, and finally on WiFi again, I found it that I have a meeting scheduled at St. Xavier’s College tomorrow when I shall meet my supervisor Dr. Pearl Pastakia (whom I happen to know already) and the rest of the personnel who will offer administrative support during my Fulbright stint. Surprisingly still not hit by jet lag but rather tired after all my activities of the day, I went off to bed.

Until tomorrow...  

First Day as a Fulbright Fellow in Bombay and Exploring the Former PEN Society, Alliance Francaise de Bombay and Theosophy Hall

Monday, August 27, 2018

Bombay—First Day as a Fulbright Fellow:

Namaste from Bombay!

Dawn was breaking over Bombay when my Air-India aircraft touched down at Sahar Airport. It felt, for me, highly symbolic. It was the dawn of my new life in Bombay, it was the dawn of my new existence as a Fulbright Fellow, it was the dawn of my new persona as an assistant in Bombay to my Dad and my invalid brother Russel after thirty years away as an expatriate.  It felt good to be repatriated again and to arrive with just one small suitcase and have a uniformed chauffeur waiting my arrival with my name emblazoned on a placard. It felt good to be chauffeured to my Dad’s home in Bandra so that I could leave behind a pile of laundry to be done, pick up my laptop and return to the waiting car and chauffeur who then drove me to downtown (South) Bombay to the West End Hotel near Churchgate.

I had a different visual idea of where my hotel would be—I thought it would be behind Eros cinema (I remember that there was a hotel there that I thought was called the West End—I was wrong). This one is right opposite the Bombay Hospital and I do not recall being there at all.  In fact, I have very vague memories at age 18 of visiting my Mother, then being operated for breast cancer at Bombay Hospital by the inimitable late Dr. Arthur D’Sa whose daughter Vanessa went on to become my classmate at Bombay’s Elphinstone College. But I do not recall there being a hotel in that spot. 

So imagine my surprise when I was driven there and dropped off in a place whose entire facade is being revamped.  There was construction material all over the entrance as I made my way over the marble steps—not the best sort of welcome to be sure.  However, the Receptionist was very welcoming and efficient and in finding myself at a very olde-world hotel with a large foyer, I had mixed feelings about where I was going to be for the next few days.  The Fulbright folks usually put up their Fulbrighters for the first week in a hotel upon their arrival in a new city during which time they are required to look for and find their own accommodation. Hence, I started my life as a Fulbrighter in Bombay with a few days in an unfamiliar hotel in downtown Bombay.

After I checked in, I entered my room—large, spacious, very clean, very old-world.  The bathroom has been recently updated. It sported a porcelain bath tub, marble floors, a nice new sink—everything was perfectly clean and very appealing. The bell boy who saw me to my room switched on the AC and showed me how to use the TV remotes. A few minutes later, another bell boy brought me a large bottle of water.  

I spent a few minutes trying to get unpacked with my devices and getting on to WiFi and picking up my overnight email. Then, I fussed with the TV and discovered that amidst the million channels, there is BBC and CNN—the only two I intended to watch anyway. So, success there too.

I changed, had a very welcome and refreshing shower, got out of my travel-weary clothing and sank into a perfectly spotless, well-made bed and attempted to get some sleep as I felt sort of weird—not sleepy, not tired, but sort of listless. I guess jet lag was setting in. However, sleep proved elusive and I probably slept for just a half hour before I gave up and decided to reach out to the USIEF (Fulbright) people to thank them for sending a pick-up car for me and for the hotel they have arranged.  They promptly got back to me to ask if I could come in for a security briefing in the afternoon at 3.00 pm.  That worked well for me for it gave me some time to unpack and catch up with my email correspondence.

About an hour later, I left the hotel and bravely walked out into the busy Bombay back street that was pretty crowded with the comings and goings of office-workers of the area and walked towards the American Center where I thought my meeting would be—it was about a 7 minute walk to the place.

Visiting the (Former) PEN Society, Alliance Francaise and the Theosophy Hall:

En route, I happened to pass by what is called the Theosophy Hall, a place that I once used to frequent—about 35 years ago. It was strange to revisit the footprints of my past as I climbed the broad steps. I used to visit an old friend, the late and very well-known Indian poet in English, Nissim Ezekiel, who used to be my Professor of English at the University of Bombay and who ended up becoming a very close friend, at his perch as Director of the Indian PEN Society (I wonder if that organization is still alive in Bombay).  I remember the hours I would sit in his airy, bright office discussing poetry, the position of English Literature at the University of Bombay, my life as a freelance journalist, etc. I could see Nissim smiling with his eyes through his 1930s-style bottle glass spectacles and voicing as slowly and clearly as he always did, his sometimes controversial views on things. I also noticed that the PEN Society name plate that used to be above the door of his office is no longer there. Perhaps that room has now fallen into disuse.

Just next door, I used to be a frequent visitor too to the office of the Alliance Francaise de Bombay where I had taken French lessons with visiting French people who lived as expatriates in Bombay. I had passed my Diplome de Langue Francaise through the AF and I had developed a very close friendship with the then Director Patrick Beck who had invited me to travel as a reporter when an Indian troupe of actors went off to France to present a play called ‘Le Quatorze Juillet’. I had interviewed him a number of times for a number of articles I had then published in the Bombay press. 

All those memories came flooding back to me as I revisited the space to find a swanky glass door and a Reception space that was much reduced compared to the vast hall that I remembered. The focus today seems to be on furnishing the needs of Indian students planning to go to France to study, while in the decades gone by, we studied French because we loved the language, adored the culture and hoped someday to get to France as visitors and to be able to interact with the people there.  That, at any rate, was my reason for studying French and indeed my goals were completely vindicated—when I had first arrived in France in 1988 and could actually communicate with my own French pen pal, Genevieve, in French and, over the years, on every occasion when I have spent time in France and have improved my language skills and been able to find my way so easily all over the country, thanks to my proficiency in French. So I felt really grateful to the AF for what it had done for me as I stood at the door. There was no Receptionist at the desk—no Shirin, no Shubhada—receptionists of the past who were good friends of mine. So, I did not enter.

Instead, I went upstairs as I found out that on the third floor of the Theosophy Hall was the Reading Room—once of those Halls that had flourished in Victorian times when such Reading Rooms had furnished the reading needs of a public greedy for reading material but unable to afford to buy books or periodicals themselves. The Theosophy Movement has been founded in 1875 by the famous Madame Helena Blavatsky who had worked closely with Mrs. Annie Besant who, in turn, had worked closely with the Indian Congress to achieve rights and eventually Independence for the people of India. I had visited Kingsley Hall in London, a couple of years ago, where Gandhi had stayed while living in London as a close friends of the German Theosophist sisters who had founded the place and offered it to Gandhi as a modest lodgings when he arrived to participate in the Second Round Table conference in 1931. There too, standing outside Kingsley Hall (because it was closed) in the East End of London, near Bow Church, a region completely taken over by Bangladeshi immigrants today, I could not enter the place as it was locked; but I had felt as if I were in a 1930s time-warp for the building wore the pre-World War II look that some London buildings still manage to retain.

Well, I have to tell you...taking the aged elevator to the third floor and opening the door of the Reading Room, I was transported to that era all over again. There were sheets of dust over every surface in a vast Hall that was surrounded by bookcases that were filled with tomes that had not seen a flipped page in decades. The place was soundless—like a graveyard to an era that has long passed. There was no one around, but it is clear that the place still functions as a Reading Room, although who goes in to read is highly questionable. I must say that I had never been up to this Reading Room myself as I then did not know much about the Theosophy Movement or the Theosophy Society. I have learned so much about it in the past three decades and so decided to take a quick look around, surveyed the Victorian and Edwardian books on the shelves and then I left—as quietly as I had entered, unnoticed.  I felt a sadness of sorts—it does not seem as if I will ever feel nostalgically happy about any of the places I knew and loved in the Bombay of my youth—so much has changed and not necessarily for the better. 

On the other hand, I am well aware that Public Reading Rooms have fallen into disuse all over the world.  In London, they were founded by Edward Pasmore who personally funded the building of these spaces so that the poor could have access to reading material. Pasmore Reading Rooms, relics of his philanthropic past, are to be found all over the East End of London from Hackney and Shoreditch and from Bethnal Green to Aldgate. Although I have not visited them but merely noticed the letters Pasmore Hall or Pasmore Reading Room engraved on the facade, I am sure that they too wear the aged looks of better times long past.   

Solitary Chinese Lunch at Churchgate:

I then strolled around at leisure in the area around Churchgate. Not much has changed there except for the fact that there seem to be so many more people and so much more traffic.  But this is the most vibrant city in the country and I saw similar crowds in China, the other most populous country—so the crowds did not, in any way, bother me. I walked all the way to the Bay, then crossed the road and found the Wok Express where I could have a custom made Chinese noodle bowl for lunch. It was delicious if a tad too spicy—the kind of Indian-Chinese food that has become so popular in India and in the US. I had a Chicken bowl with vegetables and noodles and it made me feel that if Bombay does not offer me anything this year, it will at least offer me wonderful food! Certainly my first solitary meal was good. I was surrounded by college students from Jai Hind College where I had begun my university teaching career and where I had spent 8 blissful years as a professor. 

Getting my Surburban Pass for Railway Commute:

Then, I entered Churchgate station and went to the Ticket window to find out what was needed to get my monthly pass for suburban travel from Bandra (where I intend to be based) to Churchgate  to use the library of the University of Bombay on the Western Railway and the Victoria Terminus (VT) station (now called CST—Chatrapati Shivaji Terminus) to St. Xavier’s College on the Harbor Line where I shall have an office. I found out that all they needed was a photograph and some form of ID. I had a photograph in my bag and I had my US driver’s license and they accepted that without a problem and issued my monthly suburban first class railway pass on both lines—for Rs. 640 which was less than $10! I could not believe it!!! I had paid less than half the amount I would have paid for a single journey from Southport to Grand Central Terminal in New York! Happy Days!  

Security Briefing at the USIEF:

Then, I walked into Maker Bhavan (it is no longer the American Center where the offices are located) for my 3.00 pm meeting with the Bombay USIEF personnel.  They were warm, welcoming and very efficient in putting me through the security briefing which is mandatory for all Fulbrighters when they enter the host region. I was given information about travel in and out of India, the formalities that will come into play, the ability to find housing through local realtors, the medical insurance that is made available to me, health and other worries (they spoke about malaria and dengue). They went through everything systematically and reassuringly and I found the session deeply enlightening. Basically, I was told repeatedly to use “common sense”. I left the office after reading and signing security papers and after being told that I will need to enroll for a couple of other programs that will ensure my security, should, God forbid, there be any crises or emergencies during my stay in the country that might involve the intervention of the US consular offices here.

Return to my Room:

I then walked back to my hotel room feeling as if I’d had a very productive day.  It was my wedding anniversary—sadly, Llew and I were on opposite curves of the globe.  He was just landing in NY and had whatsapped me to let me know that he had arrived. And I was settling down to email correspondence with my colleagues at NYU. Long calls with Chriselle and Llew then followed and I was connected in the most tangible way with those I most love. My Dad and my brother Russel had wished me in the morning and started my day by making me feel loved. So the day ended with others people in my life making me feel loved.  It was the best way to begin and end my first day as a Fulbright Fellow.

Sleep came at about midnight...until tomorrow, 

: 

Goodbye South Korea, Hello India—Breakfast at Paris Baguette and Mass at Myeongdong Cathedral

Sunday, August 26, 2018

Seoul-Shanghai-Bombay

Goodbye South Korea, Hello India

Our last day together had dawned and I felt deeply sentimental about separating from Llew for a whole year—almost. We awoke and walked towards the little streets of Myeongdong looking for Paris Baguette from where we hoped to get a good breakfast with some fancy baked French goodies.  We found that the almost croissants had disappeared already—even though it was Sunday and the working crowds were absent. We picked up three savory pastries instead—a crab croquette, a chicken cheese stick and another croissant with coffees—and they were all simply superb. We found a spot in the back of the bakery where we settled down to enjoy our last breakfast. 

Mass at the Korean Catholic Cathedral:

The Korean Catholic Cathedral was just outside this bakery and we decided to go in there for a short visit as it was Sunday. We had no idea what time the masses were—so we were very pleased to have found that Mass had only just begun.  We were able to hear Mass in a packed church said by an Irish priest in a beautiful church that was built in 1875. It was a lovely service and we were glad to be able to receive Communion as well.

When Mass was done, we walked back to our hotel to check out and pickup our cases. We found it, to our delight that the airport shuttle bus had a stop right outside our hotel. For 15,000 won, it would take us to the airport in comfort and without us having to lug any of our cases through long corridors of the subway system.

Journey to the Airport:

And that was exactly what we did. There were other passengers waiting to board the Airport Shuttle as well. It showed up in just ten minutes and after we had stashed our baggage in the trunk of the coach, we took our seats and began our journey out of South Korea. We reached in exactly an hour and made our way into the concourse.  Llew’s flight was 6 hours after mine, but he decided to go to the airport with me and find a way to pass time at the airport. I checked in, we found an early lunch at Creme de Marrons—excellent almond croissants and chocolate croissants—and then we said goodbye to each other as I hurried away to claim tax refund on our hotel expenses. I carried out the formalities associated with that chore and hurried off to my gate where I boarded my flight and left.

Out travels in China and South Korea had come to an end.  We were very fortunate that the expected typhoons had passed us by as they. Could have affected us in really unpleasant ways.  As it turned out, all that had been cancelled our trip to the DMZ—which we had been really poking forward to seeing. Still, that disappointment apart, South Korea had proven to be a very good experience and we were so glad that we’d have the opportunity to visit the country. 

Flight to Shanghai and from there to Bombay via Delhi:

My flight to Shanghai was only two hours long. The China Eastern Airlines folk did a competent job in keeping us comfortable. In Shanghai, I had a four hour wait and was one of the first people at the Air-India counter for my connecting flight to Bombay via Delhi. That was a very light flight going out to Delhi.  I had a lovely G&T on the flight and a good dinner and then settled down for the night on a three-seated as there were so many empty seats on the flight. At Delhi, however, where we had a two hour layover, the flight filled up—but since it was only a two hour flight to Bombay, it did not matter.  

It was Monday—the start of a new week—and dawn was breaking over Bombay and over my new life in Bombay began. I was nervous and I was excited. 

Until tomorrow... 

Cable Car to Seoul Tower, Bingeing on Bingsu, Dinner in Myeongdong

Saturday, August 25, 2018

Seoul

Cable Car to Seoul Tower and My Presentation at East-West Center Conference

Getting to Seoul Tower:

Since we did not have the time to cover Seoul Tower (which is one of the most popular tourist sights in Seoul), Llew and I decided to go there on our own before lunch time. I was required to make my presentation in the afternoon at 2.00 pm. 

We awoke after a good night’s sleep and found breakfast at McDonald’s before we took the subway to the stop that would give us access to the free elevator that would take us to the Cable car that would whip us up into the heights of Namsan, the mountain on which the Tower is located. It was actually just a ten minute walk from our hotel, but the Receptionist suggested we take the subway. It would have been good, was there not an interchange to be made—these changes involve a lot of walking underground and a great wastage of time. One is better off walking on the surface upstairs. 

Still, once we reached the free elevator, we waited for about 15 minutes to get in, then bought our tickets for the cable car ride. It was only 10.00 am, but already a good number of visitors had reached the top.  It is a short ride but as the car moves higher, it offers stirring views of the city. Seoul is sprawling and almost entirely vertical. It comprises modern, well-appointed high-rise buildings with every mod con. Streets are spacious, clean and often used by pedestrians as the weather permits gentle strolling. Overall, the quality of life is comparable to that in any Western city.

Once at the top, we found ourselves in a corner taken over by Love Locks. This strange practice is said to have begun at the Pont de L’Eveche in Paris where someone used a marker pen to scribble the name of a lover and then attach the lock to the bridge. Others followed suit and soon a bizarre practice developed. Eventually, there were so many locks on the bridge that they proved to be a structural hazard to the integrity of the bridge. They had to be forcibly removed and the attaching of locks on that bridge is now prohibited. Well, the practice spread to other parts of the world and many cities have a dedicated spot to which lovers go to declare their attachment to the world by clamming locks on. In Seoul, it is high up near Seoul Tower. In fact, astute business ventures have sprung up around this practice and now locks are sold to couples at the. site. Here, they made a colorful segment of bars that spanned lookout points across to the city.

We walked around the entire periphery taking pictures of the city from Seoul from the heights of the mountain. It looked spiffy and reminded me very much of the train ride up to the heights of Victoria Peak in Hong Kong where one is rewarded with similar views. We also took pictures against the backdrop of Seoul Tower that loomed behind us.

Trying Bingsu—Traditional Korean Ice-Cream:

Since it was so hot, we looked for a place to cool off and found a tunnel leading to the ticket counter from where one can purchase tickets to actually get to the Observation Deck of the Tower (that towered above us and looked rather like a TV tower). There we found a place that offered Bingsu, a traditional Korean dessert that involved a mountain of shaved ice—what is known in Korea as “ice flakes”. We decided that this was the perfect place to try it. So we ordered one each and sat at a bar overlooking the city. Way down below us, we could see traffic crawling through the beautifully laid-out streets. A French family joined us pretty soon and I got into conversation with them. They were very thrilled to find strangers who could speak French in Korea.

Bingsu is offered in large bowls. There is a mound of ice-flakes with a couple of tablespoons of red azuki beans (clearly a Japanese influence) nestled in the bottom and covering the top. There are also chunks of a rather glutinous , jujube-like candy placed at the top and the entire concoction is sprinkled with a peanut-flavored powder. Accompanying the dessert is a little jug of a sweet milky liquid which you are supposed to pour over the entire dessert to flavor the shaved ice. It was really delicious but quite the strangest thing we had ever eaten.

We decided not to go to the Observation Deck as the views offered would would only be smaller than what we had already enjoyed. We watched what looked like the Changing of the Guard on a promontory that contained a number of watch towers—this spot has historical significance because the lighting of a lantern at this point, centuries ago, had warned the city of impending invasion. They were able to take shelter from the onslaught and save themselves. As a symbol of that event, there is a ritual ceremony involving changing of guards and lighting of a lantern every few hours—and we were lucky to catch one such ceremony.

Then it was time for us to make our way back to the cable car for the downhill ride. Using instinct, this time I was able to find our way back to the conference hotel without taking the subway. It was actually less than fifteen minutes away.

Lunch and Award Ceremony:

The Award Ceremony that began about a half hour previously was under way when we arrived at the huge main hall for lunch. It was a buffet and it offered a large variety of foods from sushi (which I enjoyed) to smoked salmon, from beef steak to continental dishes such as chicken Florentine. Llew and I helped ourselves and took our seats to watch a number of people receive awards in recognition of the voluntary work they do in different parts of the world as alumni of the East-West Center to keep the spirit of the place alive and to continue to foster the mission of the institution. Thus, delegates from varied parts of Asia (such as the Chennai Chapter in India and Malaysia) went up to receive their awards. My friend Jessica also received her’s and I was glad I had the opportunity to congratulate her in person. 

My Presentation at the Conference:

At a little before 2.00 pm, Llew and I left the Awards ceremony which was scheduled until 2.00 pm and made our way up to the 36th floor where my panel session was to be presented.  The Chairperson was already present and the two other presenters—a lady from the Philippines and a man from Singapore—followed soon.  Initially, there weren’t many people present—clearly they were all caught up with the awards downstairs. But a little after 2.00pm, they came pouring in and the room filled up impressively. I was delighted as I was the first speaker. My paper on the Repression of Free Creative Production in India by the forces of political censorship accompanied two papers—on Filipino workers in the Middle East and one on depictions of the North-South Korean conflict in contemporary American media. I thought that the three presentations gelled together very well.  They were followed by a brisk question and answer session in which a large number of people offered views and queries that were relevant and added to the spirit of mutual understanding through discussion—which is what these conferences are supposed to foster while also showcasing the research work of international scholars. I was deeply satisfied by the session and by my role in it and was, at the same time, greatly relieved that it was over. Llew and I were free to enjoy our last evening together.  There was a Gala Variety Entertainment Show accompanied by a Banquet dinner that evening, but we decided to go out and taste some typical Korean delicacies in the heart of Myeongdong as we had not yet done so.

Exploring the Streets of Myeongdong:

We were lucky that we were based in one of the most happening parts of Seoul. Myeongdong is a warren of lanes filled with shops and restaurants that attract locals and visitors non-stop. There are upscale designer department stores and road-side vendors who offer the most stunning wares at very reasonable prices. I found some lovely costume jewelry to take back to India as gifts.

After we had returned to the hotel, freshened up and planned our evening, we set out first for Uniqlo as I wanted to take a look at the summer collection offered by Ines de la Fressange—the French designer whose work I rather admire. I thought that it would be good to pick up some pieces for the heat of Bombay. When we did get there, we found out that it was a fall and winter collection and would only be launched on August 30. So, basically, it was a wild goose chase.

However, the excursion did give us the excuse to go out and discover Myeongdong and that we certainly did. We browsed in small food stores for Gongju, the basic chillie paste in which Koreans marinate cabbage to make kimchi, the pickled cabbage that accompanies all their meals. Then, we looked for a place to eat and decided we would go traditional. We found a place that looked packed with Koreans (always a good signifier of the eatery’s quality) and ordered Bulgogi Bilimbap—which is basically a vast portion of raw Korean Beef, cut into very thin slices, placed on a large round wok with a great amount of delicious broth at the bottom and a number of raw vegetables on the periphery. The attendant comes and lights the burner that is in the center of each table that seats four.  As the wok heats up, the meat and vegetables cook. She came along and snipped our meat and vegetables and made smaller pieces of them. Soaked in the broth, the meat lost its pinkness very quickly and turned brown and ready to eat.  In small individual bowls, you ladle out the broth, then use chopsticks to pick up the meat and vegetables and add them to your bowl. The entire culinary experience was interesting, plus the food was so tasty, it was unbelievable. We had more than enough for two people but we enjoyed it so much over a shared bottle of cold beer. It was the perfect use of our last night together.   

As we were not far from our hotel, we walked back briskly and got ready for bed as we would be leaving Seoul the next day.  

Until tomorrow...