Three Wheels on my Wagon...

It had to happen.  A flat tyre.  On the way to a wedding.  Our driver's sister's wedding.  In the middle of Bangalore.  I was driving.  During Monsoon.  In fact, during a stinking Monsoon afternoon which saw the streets become rivers.  Thankfully, my Hero, Mr. M, was in the car with us (me and Mitz).  I have never seen him spring so quickly into action.  He was out the car, into the trunk, spare out, flat tyre off, spare on, quicker than you could say, 'should I get out and help?'  In fact, both Mitzie and I remained dry as a (dog) bone inside the car while Mr. M was soaked to the skin.  What was amusing, was the lack of police or helpful looking individuals when you need them.  Out of the hundreds of people thronging through the Bangalore bus station (where we took refuge) only ONE person offered to help, with more people finding it quite amusing to see the only white guy in the vicinity up to his knees in water changing Madame's tyre.  It did make me realize that while I have been on quite a high a lately driving myself here and there, with or without hubbie, that we are quite prone to getting flats here (due to the lack of road surfaces!) and if I were on my own it would be quite a pain in the ass.  Having learned to change a tyre on an army landrover, I'm sure I could do it, but wouldn't want to!  I was impressed by my knight in shining armour who delivered me to the wedding an hour late, but on time, as things generally run late here, without me having to get even slightly ruffled.  That's a few brownie points well earned.

Release the Hounds...

... and whatever else ammunition you have in the crazy war between dog owner and residents.  We have had another complaint; this time, about noise after 11:30pm in our bedroom... apparently the sound of strange instruments dropping on the floor and rather heavy feet.  Ah, that'll be Mitzie practicing the euphonium and drums.  Crazy!!!

Last week, we saw a very adorable property that is available in our area that is worthy of the name "Bunny Cottage."  Very delightful and just enough garden and space for a family of 2.5 - and it even has a granny flat!  Mitzie loved the garden, which was a better response to another house we saw, where she took a dump on the master bedroom floor... thank god for poop bags!

Calling our Landlord was a bit of worry as breaking your lease anywhere can be a) very easy or b) a harrowing nightmare.  Fortunately, this was very easy, and he was very reasonable, until I mentioned that we had had a few issues in the apartment but they were in no way the reason for our departure.  I mentioned the dog being 'banned' from the periphery, the stolen shoes, the passive aggressive behavior, and the upcoming AGM where the dog would be discussed... Our landlord went NUTS!!!  Full on angry and amazingly on-side with us.  His big thing is that in India, guests are like God and we should not be treated like this... He even said he didn't care about the money... this was unacceptable.  And then he rolled out the name of his friend... the owner of the property company that we live in, yes, the same name we were planning to roll out at the AGM if things got tough!  Seems we move in similar circles!

He immediately called the building manager, who called me and said not to worry... We discussed the missing shoes again; while he reassured me that they had NOT left the building (with Elvis) I told him that if they weren't on my feet, that didn't really help me!!!  

Mysteriously, the AGM was postponed due to 'unavoidable circumstances' and will be held next week instead.  I have NO plans on attending, unless it is to release Mitzie among them to take a dump.  Instead, I am hoping our Landlord arrives and brings with him the 'six big dogs' that he mentioned in our phone conversation and which he threatened to move in with if we left!  

Poops and Pooped

I am exhausted!!!  Just over two weeks into being a puppy momma and I am shattered.  Not sure if it's the combo of non-stop nannying, or a bit of a heavy partying weekend, but I am wiped out.  Also, the stress of our neighbors is taking its toll and I'm wondering whether they are involved in the disappearance of three pairs of our shoes from outside our front door...  It's very Indian to leave your shoes outside the door, and given that we are walking our dog outside in the mud on the non-existent road, it's actually a necessity that we don't come in the house in them.  So, yesterday lunchtime I was a little shocked to see two pairs of sneakers and one pair of birkenstocks had gone!  Of course, housekeeping (the ladies who clean the stairs and take the trash out) claim they weren't there when they came around in the morning; they were, everyone saw them (me, Tom, driver, neighbor) and security hadn't seen them... Security also haven't noticed the three times previously that our driver has had his fuel pipe cut and the petrol drained from his bike...  The building manager did make me feel better by saying that if the company paid for better security, we wouldn't have this issue.  THAT'S reassuring.  I'm not sure which is worse - having a thief in the building OR handling somebody's passive aggressive behaviour against us...

On the Mitzie front, things are progressing nicely... one or two minor set backs (little parcels in strange places...) but she is getting to grips with 'sit' and 'come' but is a terror on her leash.  She was good at Tara's party on Sunday, but got VERY territorial when any other dogs came near, even though it was their house!!!  And she hates kids.  They're ok while they're petting her, but then they start to tease and mess about and a little growl turns into a snap... we have to watch her closely around little ones.  Or avoid them altogther!!!

Walk of Shame

It is quite ironic that as our neighbors demand that we walk Mitzie outside the apartment complex, this article appears in the Times of India about our very neighborhood.... Couple this with the 25,000 stray dogs in Bangalore, the majority of which seem to live nearby, and you'll understand why walking your dog outside is NOT a pleasant experience!!!

The Bitch is Back

As anyone will tell you, I'm a very reasonable person (ahem) but can hold an argument with the best of them, even if my position is tenuous to stay to the least.  That's why I'm relishing the residents' meetings at our apartment complex next week...  Since learning that a couple of people 'complained' that we had a dog in the building - which is completely within the rules - and getting a copy of the rule book handed to me, I spoke with the secretary (I'm not giving it an upper case S) of the residents' committee to address her concerns.  She launched into me with a tirade of comments, mainly aimed at the fact that the building manager doesn't follow the rules and we should not have the dog in the 'common areas.'  In a nutshell, we're allowed to have the dog but not take her on the landscaped areas or the kids' play area; no problem.  We can, however, walk any pet (iguana, elephant, dog, or cat) around the periphery of the building, which in our case is a driveway.  She didn't seem to know that.  Nor did she seem to agree with it.  Tough.  They're your rules, baby, and if you don't like it, it's your own doing.  By the end of the conversation, my wily PR ways and sugary sweet apologies for not having known the rules had got her onside, but you knew it wasn't going to go away.

Fast forward a few days, I am exercising my dog - and my prerogative - around the 'periphery of the building' and who announces herself to me, but ms secretary.  'So, you've decided to walk your dog around here...'  I was all polite and very happy to reiterate the rules to her and remind her that I was doing nothing wrong.  In fact, many of their 'rules' area quite blatantly ignored, particularly where kids are concerned, but I guess the dog threw them, as no-one has had one here for four years, as I keep being reminded.  She advised me that she'd had now two complaints - I'm not sure if complaints are just calls, whatever - about the situation and that it would be raised at the, wait for it, AGM on August 30th.  What a great opportunity for me to get up and have a good old fashioned argument with a bunch of people who clearly don't know their own rules, hate confrontation (hence her blaming the building manager when I called her), and can't make a decision to save their lives.  Excellent.  

While chatting to the frosty cow, sorry, secretary, a half dozen squealing infants on bikes came tear-arsing past us on the driveway, as if to illustrate my next point, 'well,' I said, 'the rules quite clearly state that kids shouldn't ride cycles or rollerskates on the driveway, but they do....'  I'm not sure when the rules were written, but clearly rollerskates were in and skateboards were a thing of the future...  

She invited me to attend the meeting - well, I couldn't refuse - and I was quick to call the building manager to check the time it started, and add on four hours for the usual tardiness of people.  He already knew that it was on the agenda as 'secretary' had called him yesterday.  I haven't told him yet that she blames him for not explaining the rules thoroughly - but I will, eventually, to get him more onside - but I did raise a few issues of my own with the rules, for example, they state that pets can't go in the lift, but the four times a day that I carry Mitzie up and down the stairs, I nearly have an accident over the multitude of bikes stored in the stairwells.  Surely that's a fire hazard!!!  

And there are more, don't even get me started on the rule that states your laundry shouldn't be hung in public view... hello, THIS IS INDIA! Laundry is EVERYWHERE on public view.

The building manager is going to call her again, but I reckon he's got no balls and she will eat him for breakfast; he was quite keen to get me to speak directly with her the other day, proving that point.  I have many aces up my sleeve, and one I shared with the building manager when he told me that most Embassy properties DON'T allow dogs... Erm, well my friend, the OWNER of the company, lives in an Embassy property AND has dogs AND walks them round the building AND I'm quite sure he doesn't take the stairs... SILENCE.

On a more positive note, having Mitzie has made me realize how nice it would be to live in a little house with a picket fence where I could walk freely outside without being chased by packs of wild dogs, sink up to my knees in mud on an unpaved road, or get accosted by frosty cows with nothing better to do that recite, incorrectly, the rule book.  So, we are looking to move to a 'gated community,' and I shudder when I say this because for the last nearly three years I have been denegrading people who do, labeling them as 'softies' who don't want to see the real India.... Ok, so maybe I'm a softie now.  I may draw the line at Palm Meadows, which is the ultimate Floridian living on the outskirts of Bangalore, complete with all mod cons, supermarkets, restaurants, and so much that you literally NEVER need to leave.  But it would be nice to have a little two up, two down, for the bitch and us.  

To be continued...

Truth is Stranger Than Fiction

It's one of those strange days today.  My friend went for some laser hair removal, only to find out her appointment was delayed slightly due to the fact that four eunuchs - dressed in full sari's - were having their faces done... which made this bizarre story in today's Times of India even more apt.  (I had to look up tonsured too...)  But I'm not sure if that's actually as funny as the headline in today's Mirror:  Son Turns His Dead Dad into a Teapot  Gotta love the tabloids!

Where in the World

I was just having a little fantasy shopping in Louis Vuitton, Tod's, and Canali, and forgot for a moment where I was.  New York?  London?  Paris?  No, good old Bangalore!  And if that's not enough, Tiffany and Stella McCartney are opening in the same mall!  That tipped me over the edge.  When we arrived a couple of years ago, we got over excited at the tiny Marks and Spencer here.  No more, now you can go and splash out on shoes, bags, and jewelry much the same as your former colleagues are doing in London and New York.  The prices are comparable - i.e., high - plus a 12.5% tax but if the Dollar/Rupee exchange keeps going in our favour, who's gonna grumble!  Well, I do of course have one small grumble.  Small being the operative word.  I've never been able to buy shoes in Bangalore that weren't handmade because Indian women have tiny feet, certainly not the size of my plates.  Tod's could offer me a 38 in the shoe I liked; I need a 43...  Apparently big sizes are on their way... ah, one can dream.

Say Hello, Wave Goodbye

It's that time of year, it seems, when we as expats wave goodbye to many of the friends we've made during our time in Bangalore.  The longer we are here, the harder it gets.  The departures often coincide with the end of the school year; conversely, the arrivals happen between now and September.  The first year was ok-ish.  We had a couple of good friends leave, but a solid social circle remained; the second year was more difficult (two sets of friends to Singapore within a day of each other); this year is horrendous!  Four families with whom we have a lot of contact and spend much of our time are jetting off to the four corners of the earth - San Francisco, Shanghai, Beijing, Sweden.  At the moment the only upside I can see is more holiday destinations for us in the coming years.  But that doesn't help the day to day as you seem to be one of the only survivors in your group.  That said, little things like the arrival of a new foal at the stables make life a little more palatable during the tough times.  The little girl was born on Wednesday evening, and I had the thrill of meeting her at just 45 minutes old and her sucking my finger.  We watched her first steps, her first feed, and her first poop!  At just 18 hours old, she was frolicking around in the paddock.  It's times like this that you realize just what a genius mother nature is!  I will be needing many hugs from her in the weeks to come...

In Hot Water

Hot water is a bit of a luxury in India; we don't have it in the kitchen or in our bathroom sinks, but we do have it in two out of the three showers, provided by the ever reliable 'geyser.'  In the UK/India, a geyser, pronounced 'geezer,' is your water heating system, a small tank of water that you have to switch on to heat about 15 minutes before you need to bathe.  However, in the US, a geyser is pronouned 'geye-zer,' and is a gushing hot spring.

Well our Indian geyser was certainly a gushing hot spring today; in fact, in less than 90 minutes of us being out of the house, it had erupted and gushed gallons of water an inch deep in virtually every room in the apartment.  Thank god for tiled floors.  Thank god for inexpensive rugs.  And thank god for saddle blankets which soaked up a lot of it in one of the rooms!  It's not the first time the geyser has erupted, but it's certainly the most dramatic.  In the course of two years in this apartment, we've probably had each one repaired in some manner about half a dozen times.  And we will again on Monday!

The whole drama reminded me of the confusion over the US/English word geyser/geezer and its pronunciation:  Our friend Ben was visiting NYC from the UK and couldn't stop laughing when he saw the brand of water 'Crystal Geyser.'  Pronouncing it the US way, geye-zer, it doesn't sound funny; switch it to the UK way, geezer, and pair it with the word's other meaning, 'old man,' and you can see why Ben decided it was a great name for a bad drag queen.  I have to agree, although the name of the world famous Tupperware sales person, drag queen 'Dixie Longate' is certainly high up on the list.  Say it a few times and you'll get it...

(Just a Little) Sex and the City

Last night I went to my first Indian movie premiere, well, I guess you would call it a Bangalore movie premiere, which was in fact my first time inside an Indian movie theater.  Not that I don't like the movies, but with good quality fake DVD's readily available at $1 each, sometimes it's not worth the hassle.  But last night, friends and I went to see the eagerly anticipated premiere of "Sex and the City" and it was quite entertaining - both the movie and the experience.  For starters, there were more men flooding into the 10pm screening than you would EVER see in the UK/US; my husband wouldn't be rushing to see SATC anytime soon.  So, assuming they weren't there for the "City" aspect of the movie, I assume they were there for the "Sex."  In Bollywood movies, it's still mainly taboo for actors and actresses to even kiss, let alone swing virtually naked from a sex-swing as we've seen Samantha do in the past, so the skimpy outfits on screen last night would be near-porn for the censors here.  Which leads me to another thing.  I'm not sure if we actually saw the whole movie because of the censorship issue; there were definite jumps and stops and starts in the soundtrack which led me to believe that either too foul language or sexier scenes were cut, despite the fact that some of the movie was still quite risque, as you would expect.  Something I wasn't expecting was the on screen instruction at the beginning of the movie to "Stand for the National Anthem" which was then sung by a host of celebrities... Being British, it felt like it was time to go to bed as when I was a kid, they'd play the National Anthem on TV at the end of the evening's broadcasting (pre-24 hour TV, of course!)  This was followed by the obligatory movie trailers and an hour and a half of movie, before an unexpected interval:  the film stopped abruptly, everyone rushed out for a pee/ice-cream or both, then headed back for a second round of movie trailers and an equally abrupt resumption of the movie.  The last time I was at the movies and they had an interval was during "Out of Africa" which was about 9 hours long!  The trailers were quite entertaining:  really good trailers for some likely bad US movies and some really bad trailers for what could be good Indian movies (one was touting the fact that some actor was playing 10 parts in one movie; I guess he's the Indian equivalent of Eddie Murphy!)  SATC itself was entertaining enough to keep me awake, unlike the premiere of "Star Wars:  The Phantom Menace" in Leicester Square, London, at which I managed to sleep through the "most exciting section" of the movie, the pod race.  I can only blame that on too much pre-movie champagne, a humiliating stagger down the longest red-carpet in history (with people wondering, "who the hell is she?"), and a less than compelling story-line; I'm Star Wars old school.  So, back to last night.  Whilst there was no red carpet or champagne (no liquor licence) we enjoyed a free pepsi and popcorn, but bought our own Baskin Robbins.  All in all it was a great fun evening and a real 'taste of home' for those who miss the "City" that never sleeps.  Speaking of which, having got home at 1:30am (how can movie theaters stay open that late but bars and restaurants close at 11pm???) I desperately need some sleep before I head off to buy the fake DVD that is sure to be on-sale already.

You're Never Too Old...

... to get excited about winning a rosette!  I have found in recent years that all the motivation I need to take part in something (road race, horse show) is the promise of a rosette or medal - or preferably both.  I've never thought of myself as competitive in that sense but I guess I am now!

This weekend I took part in an in-house show at my riding school with three classes - best turned out horse and rider, dressage, and obstacle course.  Majesty and I practiced hard on Saturday but unfortunately the less sensible of the two of us drank a little too much that night and felt tired and wretched the next day, without a chance of a nap and baking weather conditions.  In fact, I was found by my husband late in the evening in Majesty's stable giving him a kiss and cuddle while he slept on, unphased.  At least he's not the jealous type (horse and husband!)

Unfortunately, we missed our 7am lesson, but managed the 10am one in preparation for the show at 3pm.  Inbetween times, we preened, cleaned and groomed (the horse and me) which is hard work with a hangover and a horse that looks at me as if to say, "Are you done yet???"

Perseverance and preparation paid off, as we scooped first prize for both the best turned out horse and rider AND the dressage test (the judges had low expectations!), and came second in the obstacle course, in part due to the fact that I was directionally challenged at one point, and finished the test off in reverse!  Overall, we were the champions of the weekend, earning the most points, and came home happy with three red rosettes and one blue.  

I think Majesty deserves more than his usual sack of carrots for carrying me so skilfully through the weekend!

Shock News Story

I had to giggle when I saw this story on the front page of Sunday Times of India:

Teething troubles dog Bengaluru airport

Surely not.

Driving Miss Julie

Or should that be, driving by Miss Julie...  Motorists beware, for the first time in 2.5 years, I got behind the wheel of our car and took to the roads of Bangalore!  I did drive the car when we first bought it - just around the apartment complex - and since then have left the driving in the capable hands of our wonderful driver, Manoj.  Yesterday was a bit of an oddity:  Tom was working from home, so we gave Manoj a surprise day off, but then had a dinner invitation to a hotel about 15 minutes from our apartment.  Normally we would take a taxi: there was a taxi strike; or a rickshaw: the heavens opened just as we were leaving, so an open air rickshaw wasn't an option.  Only one thing for it, grab the car keys and give it a whirl!  

I've been dying to drive here recently as I think I've figured out the rules of the road:

1.  Everything stops for cows

2.  If you're bigger than me (i.e., truck vs. car, car vs. bike), you have right of way

3.  Don't use your mirrors, if someone's at the side of you as you change lanes, they'll use their horn to let you know (OK SOUND HORN is painted on the back of every truck - don't expect them to look before they switch across three lanes...)

4.  Oh, lanes mean nothing.  If they're there, straddle them; if they're not, weave all over the road

5.  When stopped at a level crossing, traffic should line up across both sides of the road, on either side of the crossing, making it impossible to move forward when the train's actually gone

6.  Don't indicate; it's a sign of weakness

7.  Don't flash someone in; it means the opposite, i.e., I'm coming through, get out of my way

This video from YouTube helps you get an idea of what I had to deal with when I finally got out of our 'layout.'  

The drive out of the apartment was bad enough as my knees were banging the steering wheel and my clutch control was like a Kangaroo on acid.  Next I had to navigate the road out of our layout; I use the term 'road' loosely as it's more like the surface of the moon.  In fact, the craters are so big, they have their own zip code.  No, it's not tarmacced, silly!  My next move was a right turn where I foolishly indicated much to the chagrin of my husband, who reminded me I had shown weakness, so I just went for it.  I successfully navigated tiny back streets - avoiding cows, children, and goats, jam-packed flyovers, a triple lane ring road, right turn across six lanes, a Police controlled traffic light where I had to do a sharp U-turn, and even parking nicely back in our apartment.  Two slight hiccups:  On arrival at our dinner destination, security asked us to pop the trunk... er, how????  After a couple of minutes of indecision, they let us through, presuming that if we were stupid enough not to be able to figure that out, we'd have no chance planting a bomb.  The final humiliation on arrival at the valet parking... er, how to get the keys out of the ignition?!?!  Thankfully, these guys know their job and showed me how...  For now, my need to drive is satiated and I assured our driver this morning that his job is definitely safe.  

Booze Ban in Bangalore

It's a dry day in Bangalore... or should I say a dry THREE days, which means that there's no booze being sold anywhere, and moreover, most of our favourite restaurants are actually CLOSED!!! Reason?  It's election time in Bangalore and as far as I can make out from our driver, there are concerns about unruly behaviour if voters are drinking; plus, it appears that it's customary for the political parties to dish out booze.  Maybe I should sneak into a poll booth and grab myself a shot or two of India's finest whisky???  Normally, a couple of dry days wouldn't be an issue - we have a party to go to on Saturday night, which definitely will not be dry - but it's our anniversary tomorrow and we were hoping for a nice meal out.  Instead, we will have it at home with much better (imported) and much less expensive wine (remembering that tax on booze here is over 250% and then there's the mark up in restaurants...) and I will be cooking (beef, I hope) steaks. Cheers!

Eye of the Storm

Over the last three weeks I have witnessed every kind of weather - snow storms on arrival in Manchester; wind and rain in Yorkshire; bearable sunshine in Spain; torrential rain in Spain (NOT on the plain....); sunny mild weather in London; and finally searing heat in Bangalore. Last night, we added another weather phenomenon to the list: CYCLONE! I kid you not, we were hit by the edge of whirling Cyclone Nargis. It began with a little lightning, some thunder, then torrential rain which left parts of the city under 2.5 feet of water, but the worst was the wind which sent the rain every which way, most of it, it seemed, into every room of our apartment. Yes, the window sealants are THAT good here... One room (a little less well sealed than the rest) was full of hailstones by the time I got to it, and I seriously felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz as things were whirling around outside. The most shattering effect? It knocked out our satellite signal TV for the last 10 minutes of my nightly fix of Seinfeld.

It all reminded me of my favourite email of the year, following the much heralded 'minor' earthquake in England a couple of months ago:

"Not often I send these types of things out but with the uk earthquake last night it really makes you think...

With all the news on TV lately about the hurricanes that America is experiencing, the typhoons in China, flooding in Switzerland and recent mud slides in South America, we shouldn't forget that the UK has its share of devastating natural disasters too.

Attached is a photo illustrating the damage caused to my uncle's home from the
earthquake that occured last night.

It really makes you cherish what you have, and reminds us not to take things for granted.

Do take care of yourself and be safe."

Back in Bangalore...

I'm finally back in Bangalore with a streaming cold, chesty cough, and horrible jetlag.  It's hotter than Satan's crotch here and my body is freaking out after two weeks of snow, rain, wind and temperatures in the single digits centigrade.   I don't know about you, but I can't do with centigrade.  If I have a fever, it should be 103 not 38.something or other.  If it's hot, I want it to be in triple digits, not double digits.  I'm also very anti kilograms and kilometers, but I still think that England shouldn't be a part of Europe and that carrots should be all different shapes and sizes, not EU-ified as they have been.  

Anyway, back to Bangalore where the big news in my absence is that McDonald's is now selling chicken nuggets.  Oh, that and by 2011, in a water purification scheme, Bangaloreans may be drinking treated waste water.  That would be as opposed to the UNTREATED waste water that appears to come out of my tap now.  Welcome home.

Bags of Fun with BA

I have restrained from posting for the last five days in an effort to keep calm and relaxed but enough is enough. BA - YOU SUCK! I flew business class from Bangalore via Heathrow's Terminal 5 to Manchester on Monday and STILL I have no luggage... My flight from Bangalore was more than two hours late, leaving my connection time between T4 and T5 less than an hour, which involved lots of puffing, panting, running, and bus travel, with thankfully the Manchester connection being slightly delayed. On arrival at Manchester, wearing a long sleeved t-shirt, cargo pants, uggs, and a hoodie, I was paged and told my bag wasn't there, but would be coming on the next flight in the morning. As I drove over to Leeds in my rental car, I encountered a snow storm on top of the pennines and the temperature dropped to 2 degrees centigrade, that's about 28 degrees less than my home climate of Bangalore!!! Clearly my clothes would not be up to these temperatures, although thank god I had the foresight to wear Uggs not flip flops!

The next day came and went, and a few calls to BA ascertained that no-one knew where it was - Manchester or Heathrow, and messages were being unanswered at each airport... great. Day three, same old story... I spoke to some urchin who told me that I could claim for basic things I needed, like jeans and a couple of t-shirts. I asked him, "Do I sound like a jeans and t-shirt girl??" He conceded no. Which is actually bullshit as I have the largest jeans collection in South Asia (currently standing at 17 including the two in my missing luggage...) But I am 6 foot tall and a size 9 foot (UK) - getting anything to fit me is a nightmare here. We did manage to find an outfit in good old M&S to wear for my mum's birthday dinner, but I had to couple it with a pair of Geox sneaker shoes that I left here one time before. Classy. But wait, on checking on the BA site, my bag had been found! And it claimed it had been delivered, same day, by courier, Express Baggage. Of course it hadn't, so another call or two to BA and we discovered that it was indeed with the courier but could take 2 to 7 days to be delivered. They have a backlog, apparently....

So, day four, we headed off to Gap and Harvey Nichols. I found some fabulous jeans for $350, but they didn't have my size, and the sizes in Gap are different to the US, but I managed to find one pair that fit, for about $100. I am excited to have an alternative to my cargo pants now! Many more calls to BA and I am now on day five (having been told earlier in the week that a couple of days was nothing, some people had waited MUCH longer - LIKE I CARE!!!) I placed a call this morning, the bag is with the courier, 'just wait' was the instruction from the lifeless BA rep. Wait for what??? 'Buy some basics,' she said, ''and wait.' I am heading to Spain a week from today - my uggs and cargo pants won't be the basics I need there... I see more shopping on my horizon today!

The BA reps I am speaking to have clearly had enough, sound lack lustre and are not equipped with the basic information that a consumer may want to know, i.e., how much can I claim for? There doesn't appear to be a limit; use your reasonable judgement. Well, half the clothes in my case are from Ghost - wouldn't it be reasonable to go and buy a couple of pieces from there? $200 for a pair of pants and $100 for a top. My shoes are from Donald J. Pliner - $250 - not available in England, but I'm sure there's something as expensive here. And my make up and toiletries (as I obviously couldn't carry them on the plane...) you've got $200 right there, easily.

So, while I 'wait' as advised for my bag to turn up, I keep buying 'essentials' like M&S undies and Boots toiletries. And while this is painful, I know it pales in comparison to the pain that will be coming when I have to claim for these 'basic items' from BA. If it's taking more than a week to get luggage handled - and that's supposedly their core competency as a business - how long will it take to process an insurance claim??? If I'm still blogging in 2010 I'm sure I will be able to share it with you...

Keep It Clean

No, this is not a reference to my previously sexually oriented postings, but this recent op-ed piece in the Times of India explaining Indians' notions of dirt varying from the West.  It was written as a response to the recent Forbes survey on the world's top 25 dirtiest cities, among which Mumbai and Delhi were mentioned.  It's a really interesting take on how Indians view and define 'dirt' and whether it's in its right place or not.  It would seem that those living near to me, feel that the drain (small canal) designed to take care of the extra water from the monsoon rains is the right place for their dirt.  In the last few weeks it has become clogged with crap, from either the local building site, or just good old trash.  But I guess that's okay, according to this article, because it's out of the kitchen and not in anyone's way.  Visiting India for the first time can be an assault on the senses - usually the poverty, the cows and dogs on the street, the traffic chaos, and the trash everywhere are what jar westerners the most.  We have a couple of friends who would find this article most interesting - while she is a HUGE fan of India and loved the Ganges and the whole gritty experience, he calls it a 'shit tip.'  He loved Singapore, and its clean streets and bright lights, but she found it 'too clinical.'  I guess India really does have something for everyone - and at least the trash on the streets gives the cows and stray dogs something to nibble on for lunch!

No Sex Please, We're Indian

I've previously posted about the 'Ask The Sexpert' column in the Bangalore Mirror and questioned its validity.  I even met someone from the Mirror who confirmed that the letters were indeed real.  I now understand why.  Read all about it...

Life on Mars

"It's a god awful small affair, to the girl with the mousey hair..."  Well, the 'season finale' of season one of Life on Mars last night on BBC Entertainment was a god awful BIG affair to this girl with the mousey hair so you can imagine my horror when, five minutes before the end of the show, they cut to commercial break (yes, we have them here on the BBC) and NEVER RETURNED TO THE PROGRAMME!  I know that everyone else in the world has watched the first AND second season of this show, but here in India, we haven't, and I am pissed!  I have been searching fan blogs and youtube but we missed SO much of the end that it doesn't make sense to me!  The last we saw was Sam coming back out of the woods after letting his dad go.... and that was it!!!  Now, we read that the very last scene shows Sam jumping off a building, so maybe we were censored here?  It wouldn't be the first time, read the breeder's account of watching the very censored Brokeback Mountain... That said, there was no rhyme nor reason to the way it ended.  I am distraught.  Help!!