Talking food, boating India-style and the Rain

That night Kartik knew I was feeling a bit sick of the Indian food. Okay, sick of the food is not the right way to put it, but well, my stomach was feeling the pangs of the curry and I was wishing for some home-style food. So we went for pizza. The pizza here is funny, there’s no sauce and it tastes like it came from the microwave, but its pizza nonetheless. I told Kartik about how big the pizzas are in the states and how they throw them up in the air to make them roll out. The pizzas here are personal size, small things- so this was completely foreign to him as was spaghetti and meatballs, quesadillas and burritos. We had a long conversation about food in the states which made me miss home SO much.. what I would give for a big cheeseburger, oy. I told Kartik if he came to the states and had a good steak he’d never want to go back to India. He’s not a vegetarian like most of the people here.

Anyways, the next morning it was 6am wake up to get to the port. We went for coffee and breakfast and I think I’m finally beginning to figure out what I like to eat. Also, I like the coffee and tea here- but its funny how it works. At home I like my coffee with cream and sugar and my tea black, here it’s nearly black coffee and tea with lots of sugar and milk. This confuses me, but I go with it, it’s all good.

Speaking of sugar here, I find there are many contradictions in how Indian people view sweets. They put so much sugar in their tea, but tell me that coca-cola has too much sugar in it. Then the other night when we had coffee, Kartik put at least 3 sugars in his small cup, and told me that still, Coke had too much sugar. The tamarind sauce that is usually so sweet in the states was barely sweet at all here, and the contradictions seem to continue. The pharmacy was next to the store selling pesticides, the Driver had a Hindu God hanging from the rearview mirror and a Jesus doll on his dashboard, the city can have brand new buildings with some of the newest technology is produced, and have people living in slum-like conditions outside. Sometimes I feel like up is down here.

Anyways, another diversion on my story of the second day at work. We wanted to avoid the long security line for the car today, so instead of going through all the checkpoints, we took a boat with the workers to the island.

This was an experience I won’t soon forget.

Here I am, in my new Indian-style shirt and banana republic capris, covered in the mud from the ground, walking with two engineers and an architect towards a group of poor men getting ready to enter this small boat to get to the island where the work was to be done. I was very uncomfortable with their stares, but I found comfort in laughing about the tiny, small motored boat that we were going in with the team I was working with.

Kartik gave me a piece of paper to sit on so I wouldn’t ruin my clothing, and the mini-adventure began. I sat at the end of the boat and all the men stared the entire time. I tried to avoid their eyes with my sunglasses, but it didn’t seem to matter. I am a spectacle here, and the novelty of it has worn off, but that is a post of its own.

The moment we got to the island it began to drizzle, and soon it was pouring. This continued all day. We got inside the building and began looking around, creating lists of things that needed to get done, all the while everyone who was working was gawking at me.

It amazes me that the architect and the engineer have to come to the building to remind people to do their jobs. I don’t know if this is usual in the States as well, but I feel like there was not a lot of cohesion between the leadership within the project. The plumber’s team did their thing, the electrician theirs, and the builders theirs… I imagine this is customary, but it all seemed to be making for a lot of people standing around and doing nothing. In reality, I found that the reason nobody was doing anything was that it was raining– electrical work cannot be done in the rain, and the roof could not be worked on with the rain, so everyone was just standing around doing nothing. I was confused, why would they plan to build this building in the middle of monsoon season if they can’t work on it during the rain?

Come to find out, there have been many issues with manufacturer deliveries. The project was set to be completed in May, and now we’re well into June, seemingly a couple weeks behind schedule, with still errors in the deliveries that have been made. I’m not sure if it was because these were just errors that happen or if this is something that is characteristic of India. It’s hard to ask these questions.

Storytelling.

I was brought up to the site by one of Ravee’s employees, Kartik. I had met him briefly when he fixed my computer to catch internet at Ravee’s home, but didn’t know much other than Ravee promised me he was a good guy who wouldn’t do anything bad to me. He is young, seemingly a bit shy, but also has an air of kindness about him. When he called me at 5:15 to make sure I was awake, I wasn’t even upset about it. That’s how I knew he was okay.

We spent some time trying to sleep before we got breakfast on the road. We went to this place called Harrys, it’s a chain here. Don’t get excited American friends, it was not a scrambled eggs and bacon place, but I had a great breakfast. I think breakfast is my favorite food here, I always love breakfast foods. Kartik and ** were very helpful in making sure I didn’t get anything too spicy- they ordered for me.

We were back on the road and I was blown away by the scenery I was driving through what seemed almost like mountains within the jungle… passing through many town centers and slums, I even saw a monkey! (FINALLY)

But the trip also was my first experience with beggars. While the car was parked two women and a man came up to us in it and began banging on the windows. They looked so tired and sad, it made me miserable to see them standing there. I wish that I had had some food, they weren’t asking for money, they were asking for food. Of course this one time I don’t have granola bars, I need them most.

That was tough- but it started a conversation, and quite possibly, a friendship. Kartik and I began talking about my impressions of India. He was very curious about what I had thought I’d find, and we both laughed at how the only image that the world sees of India is slums.

*Friends, family- let me clear this up for you now, India has a lot of poverty, and there is a lot of icky stuff here, but India is not a row of endless slums. Really. Don’t believe everything that the media tells you and the movies show. It’s so unfortunate how little we know about other countries, because as Kartik pointed out to me, they know all about the US. He began talking with me about the tea-partiers, and the oil spill, as well as the universal health care bill. I felt like he knew more than I did sometimes!

Except when he asked about Boston. He wanted me to tell him about home. This, my friends, was the key to my heart. From then on, I knew Kartik and I would be friends. Oh how wonderful to share stories of the beaches and the Boston Red Sox, my college life and my family and friends. We talked about the weather, the buildings (hes an arcitect!) and how Boston was in relation to the rest of the States. Then we talked about how different many aspects of the US are, from the weather to the food to the people. He told me about his home, how he went to school to be an arcitecht or a computer programmer and chose architect because all his friends were being programmers– and how he found a job right after college and they did not. (Funny how that is)

He shared stories about himself and I shares stories about myself, and we made a pitstop along the way to pick up some Indian clothing for me! Kartik even helped me pick it out. I laughed as I realized that Indian women have smaller bone structures than I and I had to weasle my way out of a medium- we’ll go to Bangalore to have things hand made next time.

Speaking of things we’ll do, Kartik said he’d take me to the safari, as well as the jog falls, two places I REALLY want to go while I’m here and not sure how to. I am so excited about this.

We got to the site and much to our dismay, the workers are very far behind. It has rained in Nellore, and also much of the supplies were delayed by the manufacturers, so needless to say, things were not what they were supposed to be.   We didn’t stay for long since the trip was long and we didn’t get to port until late, so we headed back from the island and to our hotel to freshen up.

She’s an artist? Perfect.

(It was Thursday night that I got the offer to go to Nellore)

When Ravee invited me to go to Bali with him on business for the weekend, I wanted to say yes but I knew I had to say no. Evading the country is not the way to solve loneliness, and even with Bali in my sight, I knew that running from India would not stop it from coming for me. Also, the $800 ticket and my genuine desire to conquer my fears and understand this country made the decision easier. While getting to know Ravee better has given me great insight into India, I am not here for a vacation. I know he offers me these opportunities out of genuine concern for my wellness since I’ve seemed so sad, but even I know I have to get my act together sometime. So after I turned down Bali, Ravee offered me a couple days at a beach north of Chennai. I laughed. Ravee, I am here to understand India, to do service! I cannot sit on a beach all day! He offered to tell me a bit more about the site I would be at and soon, we were getting somewhere. Ravee, while he is a business man, is a man with a conscious- he is, afterall, chairman of the Bapagrama. He has told me of his past in which he had a hard life of near poverty, and seems to truly appreciate and understand how lucky he is and how important it is to give back. Also, he is the best example of time management I have ever seen, but thats another story. Anywho, the project is along a port near Nellore. The port will soon be the largest in India, with over 70 acres available for docking and stationing. This port is also owned by a man who owns two other large ports in India. How one man own three gateways to a country reminds me that the world can sometimes baffle me- but anywho, this man is building a guest home on his port. The home is a work of art fresh from the minds of Ravee’s incredible team, but also pays homage to the people that are building it. This port will offer 3,000 new jobs to Indian citizens, and also, while working on the construction, offers homes and food to its employees, many of whom seemingly cannot afford much of either. The owner of this port has also built many homes for low income families, as well as free homes for victims of the tsunami. Anywho, this guy has lots of money, but also a conscious. I appreciate this. Ravee said it would be interesting for me to see how Indian infrastructure is being expanded. This is a perfect example of how the Indian people are becoming more and more globally connected and internationally important. Furthermore, being a part of this project affords me the opportunity to talk to these people, who seemingly are benefitting from the project- to get a real view at the way the hierachy works and if in reality, the project is making positive changes across the board. Another part of the project that really moved me is that Ravee’s hope upon finishing each building he builds is that the owners of the new construction will invite the builders to have dinner at the home. This is already planned for this site. Ravee believes that achitechture can have meaningful, lasting impacts on communities and help to break down the caste system, piece by piece. This sounds like something I’d like to be a part of. Only problem is that if I want into the building, I need a reason to be. The port itself is under strict security and I will need a reason on and a day lounging on the beach will not get me access to the workers. So we got to thinking and talking, and then we had it- I’m an artist, duh! I’ll be in charge of interior design. This all sounded so wonderful until I realized Ravee is totally serious. He wants me to go in, without any previous experience in interior design and begin picking the art, the silver wear, the dishes, the candles.. all the small details for this home. And also, have access to the people that work for him and a chance to see how this system of hierachy functions on a day-to-day level. I’m honored with this offer, but obviously quite nervous. Another night spent not sleeping. I had to wake up at 5 to be out by 6 for the trip, its 5+ hours to Nellore, and surprisingly, they were very, very good hours.