A Day in the Life...
(uploaded March 6, 2004)
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Troupes of crows rule the roost here. |
At the point of this writing, four weeks from now we will be homeward bound. The proximity of our departure, it seems, can't help but stimulate the nostalgia for our little home here in Navy Nagar (our region of Bombay). So, for our own records and to share a piece of our life here with you, we thought we might jot a few notes on our life here.
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We live at the TIFR Housing Complex – that is, a "colony" of apartments for those who work and study and are visiting the Tata Institute for Fundamental Research. |
We live at the TIFR Housing Complex – that is, a "colony" of apartments for those who work and study and are visiting the Tata Institute for Fundamental Research. We are located at the southern tip of Mumbai, jutting into the Arabian Sea. We have a simple little apartment – a small kitchen, and one other room that we have divided in two by a screen to make a bedroom and living room/H’s office. Plus bathroom and balcony. Two heavily-used ceiling fans. The furniture provided by TIFR is carefully marked with a TIFR-inscribed steel plate. We have managed to either rent or buy other furniture to make this little spot seem really homey; even a camel table... coming soon to 16 Oliver! We sleep under a mosquito net (quite a ritual in the evening getting it properly in place). The electric outlets lead are pretty amazing – different sizes, too many extension cords, not always fitting.
The first noises of the day are the dogs – street dogs own the TIFR campus where we live. There seem to be groups of dogs who claim particular territory, and to some extent are cared for by folks around the colony; some even have collars. We have been told that someone at some point had all the TIFR dogs neutered and vaccinated against rabies. At any rate, we believe the barking might at times be to hold the intruders at bay, for certainly there are other strays who would enjoy the lives of leisure of these fellows here.
The barking dogs are also accompanied each morning by the noisy crows. There are troupes of crows here – a bit different from those at home, but equally loud. And they are not above burglary, for we have found them actually in the kitchen, raiding any food we might have carelessly left near the window.
And then there is the noise at the door – the jangling of the milk can. Our milk is delivered fresh each morning. We had first left out a plastic bag for depositing the milk. After a few days, we began to discover tears in the plastic milk bag; we thought that the delivery man was being quite careless in his delivery until we realized it was the marauding crows. So, we now have a little tin can (crow-proof) that hangs on the door, and we can hear that delivery each morning.
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The Times of India is a combination of incomprehensible Indian politics, Bollywood, and a bit of other news thrown in. Click on the image to read an article they ran on March 5th. |
One of the first morning chores is to boil the milk; although it is pasteurized, it still needs to be boiled. Our little stove runs on a tank of gas below the counter. The water we drink also must be thoroughly boiled as well. We have a little ritual of having our breakfast while listening to 5-minutes of NPR, which Hank is able to stream from the Internet, and reading the Times of India, which is a combination of Indian politics, Bollywood, and a bit of other news thrown in – a quick but enjoyable read.
Like our little stove, the shower is also not a simple process – carefully turn on the water heater, while the water is running, in order to get any hot water. (Regular hot water out of the faucet will be a nice thing to return home to.)
We are often visited in the morning by our laundry man, who comes about twice a week. Our doorbell is enough to wake up the people at the other end of the building. It takes some getting used to the interaction with our laundry man. When we open the door, he is sitting on the floor, with a sheet spread out, and our laundry is carefully presented to us. We give him more laundry into the sheet, and pay him; when we give him the money, he tips it to his forehead in prayer-like fashion before he puts it in his pocket.
In the last month or so, Glorian has started yoga instruction. Meera, the yoga instructor, comes to our home in the mornings. As you know, we don't have a lot of space; Hank graciously moves all his computer hookups into the kitchen so G can have her hour with Meera, after which, G seems to have a relaxed glow.
And so we start our work day: H is fully set up for his work here in the apartment. G trudges about 3 minutes to the office building across the road – just enough of a walk to admire the parrots or other birds slipping among the palm trees.
At lunch time, we have the choice of creating a lunch in our little kitchen, or eating in the cafeteria, which is apparently heavily subsidized – our lunch costs us less than a dollar apiece.
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We have been caretaking two little stray kittens living at the end of the TIFR seawall. One of them – little Red - has become quite tame; he will even sit on G’s lap. |
We have a regular schedule of seeing some kitties. We have been caretaking two little stray kittens living at the end of the TIFR seawall. One of them – little Red - has become quite tame; he will even sit on G’s lap while he munchies goodies from the bag. The other, red and white, is still pretty shy, but still clearly loves people-company. We are discovering that we are not the only kitty-caretakers; there are several others coming regular to feed and tend to them, and the kitties have clearly staked their claim to the end of the walkway, waiting for greetings from all the promenaders along the seawall. We usually visit them twice a day – a lunch, and again in the evening to watch the sun set over the Arabian Sea. (OK, I will admit that I have explored how complicated it would be to bring little Red home - G.)
We have fallen so in love with the view from our seawall. Each visit is different. At low tide, there are often people out on the rocks that appear with the receding sea, probably picking up mussels. At high tide, the waves lap against the rocks of our seawall. At night, you can see the lights of the city in the distance. In recent days, the sea breeze has picked up. We are on the cusp of a new season - the temperature is up, there are more insects, we have started to see lizards for the first time along our walk.
We also have a ritual of watching the darkness take over the landscape from the perspective of our little balcony. It is a great spot to watch the crows settle in for the night, as the bats take flight. These bats are bigger than the crows. There are always children playing in the courtyard below – cricket or soccer or hide-and-seek. We really love just watching the rhythms of our little community here from the quiet cover of our balcony. As it gets dark, we watch the moon rise over a neighboring apartment building, as Orion lights up in front of us. It's a perfect setting for a glass of wine at the end of the day.
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Soon to be the only camel table in all of Watertown, Massachusetts! |
So, you may not be surprised to hear that it is often very easy to order take-out at this point, rather than figure out what we can cook on our funny little stove. Indeed, ANYTHING can be delivered promptly to our door for free with a simple call – well, maybe not that simple, since our little mobile phone gets a very poor signal here, but you get the idea. Smokin’ Joe’s Pizza, MacFood with the best chicken tikka (entire chicken will cost you about $2.25, delivered), wine/beer, or two servings of ice cream – all delivered by motor scooter or bicycle! (Even cat food, I might add!) The other night, the pizza delivery man arrived having taken a tumble off the scooter en route, leaving a scrape of his elbow behind. We brought him in, cleaned him up, put on salve and a bandage. So, tonight he returned with another pizza, and was standing proudly at the door to show us his healed elbow, and was very eager to say that HE had put on the extra-generous amount of pizza topping.
We have settled into a little community here. There is a group of security guards that welcome all who come in through the gates, at any time of day. They also convey information – they arrange, for example, for you to get the newspaper; and they might tell you something like, "Ma'am, the man with the cat food came to make a delivery, he left the cat food" – with a look like, "where is this cat, you sucker?" Just outside the security guard station is the taxi stand – we have our favorite driver, Tawari, who takes quite good care of us. Or, we can take the TIFR bus, which also leaves according to a regular schedule from the same locale.
So, you can see, there is a simple and comfortable routine here. We always have our windows open to the air – it hasn't rained a drop since we arrived – but we are quite convinced that our departure will be made easier as the air gets hotter and more humid.
We remember our beginnings here, not so long ago, when everything seemed strange and foreign and amazing. Now, we wander down the familiar streets of our neighborhood, not surprized by the dogs or the crowds, the occasional cow, or even the elephant rambling down the street. It all seems part of our space here.
16 Oliver St. will feel like quite a contrast.