How do you like those....um...apples?

The availability of fresh and exotic (to me) fruit has been an unexpected and incredible perk of living in India. We arrived during the extreme heat of summer, but also during peak mango season. (salivation in progress). Just the other day, I was introduced into a new and wonderful new fruit: the custard apple. This is not a shiny smooth apple like we would expect, in fact, it looks more like an artichoke without spiky leaves. It's no wonder I never paid attention to them in the shops until Prasad, our driver mentioned them to me.

You pull apart the green exterior to reveal a soft white interior made of small pods of flesh covering black smooth seeds. The taste is not easy to describe. When the first pod hit my tastebuds I immediately thought of summer. In particular, summers when I was about 8-10 years old and mom, brothers and I spent our days at a local swim club out in the rolling farmland of Central NY. One taste of the custard apple and I was 9 years old again. It was like a gorgeous summer day in your mouth with tastes/smells of: wildflowers, sunshine, clean air, and honey. Not quite what I expected from a lumpy, bumpy green fruit.

I mentioned the custard apple to some expat friends who were passing around a sweet lime, which, for the record tastes like a not so sour grapefruit. A Brit quickly replied "Oh yes, they're like apples in custard!" Not being a custard connoisseur, I really didn't know how to respond. Just the sound of the word custard really couldn't do these little guys justice.

So if you're even in the exotic fruit section of your grocery store and see custard apples (they are in season now), give one a try.

The TP Situation: All Cleaned Up

My apologies for not giving a prompt update to the TP situation. Arguing over stupid things can really take a lot out of you. And so, the long awaited outcome: I am pleased to report that the morning following the insane phone call with the school's director, there was a roll of toilet paper in the bathroom. A simple solution to a simple issue, I'm so glad I thought of it.

A Monday Down the Drain

I'm not good at arguing. Even when I'm right, eventually my emotions get the best of me, my voice gets louder and louder, and on more than one occasion tears of frustration have appeared. Today I had a phone call with the director of Sammy's preschool, a Montessori school, where she will be the first foreign student. I wanted to talk to him about a few issues, which shall hopefully be all resolved, but the one that really got me riled up was our discussion of toilet paper.

What could possibly get me so riled up about toilet paper you may ask. No, it wasn't the over-under debate as to how to mount a roll onto the toilet paper holder. Instead it all began when I made a statement (not request) on Friday while visiting Sammy's classroom before she actually started school. "There is no toilet paper in the bathroom. There needs to be." To this, her teacher replied "We have it, I will talk with maintenance about it." Let me say now, that toilet paper is a new thing here and is not commonly used. In a typical toilet stall, there will be a hose with a sprayer, very much like one that would be mounted on a kitchen sink to spray dishes. Apparently after using the toilet, spraying occurs, some shocking use of the left hand and then ...(perhaps?) dampness removal, via handkerchiefs or something non-disposable that people carry around with them.

So today, Monday morning, I took the opportunity to sneak into her classroom to check out the TP situation. None. Sigh...I spoke with her teacher again who replied that she wasn't the person who could get that done and that she had to talk to management. Huh? I truly didn't expect toilet paper to be a management decision.

Later today I called to request a meeting with the director of the school to go over a few other concerns, and obviously discuss the toilet paper situation. Rather than a face to face meeting he gave me a call since he was heading out of town. Yes, he had been informed on Friday that I required toilet paper in the bathroom stalls, and he and the staff had a half hour discussion about what to do, and came to no conclusion. (!!!) So he sent an email to the local Montessori training instructor to ask advice. He went on to explain that the school needed to take into consideration the effect it would have on all of the other students. I truly and to the bottom of my soul do not understand how on God's green earth the presence of toilet paper can have any effect on 2 & 3 year olds (or anyone for that matter), so much that the advice of a third party is needed to help evaluate the impact. I begged for explanations and clarifications on this ridiculousness, and was not impressed with the responses. (I think this was the point where my blood pressure and volume began to escalate out of control). I even pulled the money card: "You're a businessman right? And you want Westerners to send their children to your school, right? So you HAVE to have toilet paper. Period." It was at about this point where Bill started chiming in. "Just tell him if there is no toilet paper, we won't send Sammy and we'll get our money back." (Can you imagine having this conversation in the US?)

Thankfully Bill swooped in and took the phone from me before I came to full out screaming (although I was pretty close), threw his years of consulting experience at the director and hit him with both logic, reason, and softly veiled threats which was a magnificent sight to see and hear.

The outcome of all of this silliness it that this evening, the director and the staff will discuss the means for providing Sammy with toilet paper, whether it be a roll in the stall or if an aide or teacher gives it to her on the way in. Oh to be a fly on that wall....

I am curious to see what kind of looks I get tomorrow when I drop Sammy off. Maybe I should be eating something with my left hand to see who freaks out. Or maybe not. :)

I'm in "You & I"

Here in Hyderabad there is a locally published magazine, "You & I" which covers local events, people, Tollywood, restaurants, etc, along with fashion and style sections. The section I flip to first is the 'NRI/Expat Corner' written by my friend, Meera.

This week's issue marked my first appearance in "You & I"

http://www.youandimag.com/index.aspx Check me out on page 64.

Every Friday I go to a cooking class, although it's more like a demonstration, where we pay 200 rupees (~$4) get coffee, cookies, tastes of everything the chef makes, along with recipes, and the company of friends. Well worth it.

:)

Cows...yummy!

Even though Hyderabad is the 5th largest city in India, it is very very common for us to see an assortment of water buffalo, cows, goats, and of course dogs along the roads whenever we venture out. The girls always keep their eyes open looking for any kind of wildlife. Yesterday we were heading to the Ista hotel for their fantastic Sunday brunch when our driver, Prasad, said "Look Sam, cows!" Then Cory chimed in "Yummy Cows!" Hindus, of course, have a fondness of cows and will not eat beef, nor harm a cow in any way. Prasad is Hindu. Bill and I both cringed and laughed when Sammy decided to join in with a chorus of "Yummy, yummy, cows! Yummy, Yummy!" Thankfully Prasad could laugh at that too. I guess the girls were really hungry for brunch! ;)

Got Change?

Life in India has lots of ups and downs. One thing we can always count on it that no one has change. No matter what kind of store you are in, grocery, book, clothing, etc, no one ever has small bills, no piles of coins. Constantly we are asked "Do you have 10/5/2/1 Rupees? Much digging and fumbling follows. Most of the time, yes, I do indeed have some coins or a 10 rupee note.

The other day in the grocery store, I discovered what would happen when a customer truly did not have change.

I was behind a twenty something man who was buying only a small bag of fresh ginger. (Imagine that-needing a special trip to the grocery store for ginger; not milk, bread, meat, etc, but ginger.) The cashier weighed the ginger and told him "21 Rupees". He handed her three 10 rupee notes. She, of course, asked "Do you have 1 Rupee?" so she wouldn't have to give him 9Rs in coins. No. So...(ready?) she opened the bag of ginger, broke off a piece, reweighed it, and said "19 Rupees." She took his 20Rs and gave him 1 Rs in change.

And now I know...

Letter to our Landlord

Dear ___,
We are enjoying our stay in your flat, but need to update you on a few things. First of all, I'm sorry our rent check was late last month. My mother arrived from the US on July 31st and with all of the excitement and activity, I forgot to stop at the bank and deposit our check for you.

Secondly, we have 2 maintenance issues. The first is that the hot water heater in the master bathroom has been leaking for the past month. I've made several calls to Maintenance and even written out 2 separate notes explaining the issue. It wasn't until I marched down there today and demanded action did the woman in the Maintenance office tell me that they don't deal with the Bajaj company, and I'd have to arrange and pay for any repairs "at my own risk". She said she'd get me the phone number to contact a Bajaj repairman. I will keep you updated on this.

The second and most eye-raising issue occurred on Monday evening. The door to the 2nd bedroom (facing the garden) has become increasingly difficult to open. On Monday evening, our nanny went into the room to freshen up before leaving for the day. When she tried to exit the room, the door would NOT open. I tried our 'trick' for opening it from the outside and was unsuccessful. I tried using the key and the key would not turn enough to unlock the door. She and I tried for about 20 minutes to pull, push, turn, and to open the door by any possible means. It was stuck stuck stuck.

By then it was about 7pm so I called Maintenance hoping that someone would be there. Their response: "Yes, Madame we will help" was followed by 10 minutes of nothing, so I went down to the office, wading through ankle deep puddles and dodging the monsoon rain to escort someone back to the flat with me. The young man who came carried only his cell phone, no tools. After a few minutes of trying keys and doing everything I had been doing since our nanny became locked in, he said he'd be back in 15 minutes. Knowing that "15 minutes" can often times mean "never", I refused to let him leave. He called down to the clubhouse and spoke to someone who was supposed to come and help.

Meanwhile, our nanny, Kamleen, had been stuck in that room for almost an hour. I slid her bible and 2 slices of bread under the door knowing that she would probably be in there a while. A little while later, another man came armed with a pair of pliers and a screwdriver. He repeated the previous attempts at forcing the door open as well as trying the keys. Needless to say, he was unsuccessful. "The lock is broken Madame", he said. I told him "I knew that quite a while ago" and wanted him to call a locksmith. Instead of doing the sensible thing and calling someone who knew how to deal with broken locks, he proceeded to use his screwdriver as a chisel, pounding on the end of it with his pliers, chipping away the door around the lock.

Once he had sufficiently damaged the door, he realized that his method wasn't going to work, and the door was still not going to open. Kamleen, realizing that her fate might be better off in her own hands, realized that she could unscrew the window screen and the 2 maintenance men could enter the room by crawling onto the balcony ledge and through the bedroom window. Once the screen was off and the men were on the inside of the bedroom, the pounding continued from the inside. After more and more pounding, chipping, breaking, and 2 hours of entrapment, Kamleen was finally free.

Now comes the damge report: the metal face plate that the deadbolt goes into was broken and bent apart, the wooden door frame behind the metal plate was completely chipped away.


The living room side of the door around the keyhole was completely chipped away as well.
The maintenance men left the apartment with the parting words that a carpenter would come tomorrow (Tuesday) and make it all like new.

Today (Wednesday) I had to call the Maintenance office and they eventually sent a carpenter to evaluate what it would take to repair all of the damage and replace the lock. He quoted me 2200 Rupees (~$44). I have a few issues with this price. First of all, I'm sure they're trying to take advantage of the 'foreigner' and quote an outrageous price with the hope that I'd agree and pay it without question. My second issue is that my idea was to call a locksmith, not destroy the door. Third, the damage they inflicted on the outside of the bedroom door was completely unnecessary and did not aid in opening the door. I'd suggest that the Maintenance department be held responsible for some of the repair costs.

I went around town today and asked 2 different carpenters to come over and give me a quote for fixing the damage. When I get those quotes, I will let you know. Please let me know what you think should be done about the cost of the repairs to the door and frame as well as the cost of the new lock set.

Sorry to drop all of this on you at once.

I will keep you updated on the door issue as well as the water heater.
Best Regards,
Meigan Sullivan