20 april - did i mention i love air conditioning?

It is time to play catch-up in a massive way. I'm about 9 days behind on this blog and what has been keeping me back is the trip to Konkan/Goa. We traveled from 20 april to 25 april, and there was just so much to say upon returning that the thought of posting became totally overwhelming. So, Joanna and I wrote a joint post about our adventures (Joanna writing most of it!). Now that I have some free time, though, there are some additional personal details I want to include so I've changed it a bit for my purposes. I could never have done this without Jo and her stunning memory of the sequence of events, and of funny little details and quotes.

The 20st of April was a Wednesday, and I had taken off work. Our flight to Goa International Airport was sometime around 1:30 but we left closer to 10 AM, being familiar with fickle Bangalore traffic. The airport was indeed, quite far from our flat. At the check-in counter, I handed the woman our boarding passes and passports. She asked me where the other three people in our group were. I assured her we were only three, and she read me off three other names to see if I recognized them. I once again promised her I would know if we were supposed to be traveling in a group of six and luckily she believed me, attributing the slip up to a glitch in the computer booking system for Kingfisher Airlines. We checked in Nani's suitcase, and Jo and I were very pleased at having successfully packed everything needed into only one backpack and one purse each.

The security lines were, as usual, divided into a men's line and a woman's line. I used to always be frustrated that the men's line moved faster, because women are drawn individually behind a screen to be scanned by the handheld metal detector in privacy. This handheld metal detector step is really crucial , because the standing detectors beep every time a woman walks through. Why? Because none of the Indian women take off any of their jewelry going through, and they wear a lot. Gold necklaces, bangles, earrings, noserings, anklets all happily shimmer and they trust that when screened in private, the source of the constant beeping will be confirmed as less criminal and more decorative.

When we got to our gate, we were 30 minutes early so Jo and I set off in search of food. There was a nice looking Indian place just around the corner from the gate, and Jo was all set to order the Chicken Biryani (a dish of chicken and rice). We asked for a sample so she could check the spiciness, and the man behind the counter started dishing out small finger bowl samples of virtually every dish behind the counter. Having feasted on the samples, Jo was already full but feeling bad about not buying anything, ordered a Chicken Biryani parcel (it means 'to go'). I ordered dahl, rice and dahi, too time-pressed to go any more adventurous. The man told me he couldn't parcel that because it would be too runny and it took me a long time to convince them that I would handle the liquid if he would just give me a box so I could make my plane.

Meanwhile, Nani was frantically calling us to return in time to board and when we dashed back, we found we were the last passengers. As we handed over our boarding passes,  a woman checked all of our bags for the security stamps we weren't aware we needed. Security personnel had forgotten to stamp one of Nani's bags and one of Joanna's, so the two of them dashed back. They had to put their bags through the screener again, while I stood at the gate with my parceled meal wondering what would happen if we missed the flight, as Dadi (my father's mother whom we were on our way to see) had no cell phone on which we could reach her. The security personnel at the gate assured me they would hold the plane for us, and luckily Nani and Joanna made it back promptly.

I feel like that operation could have been run more efficiently- it wasn't our fault security had forgotten to stamp the bags.

Anyways, when we got to our seats we found out we had two whole rows to ourselves, so Jo and I each snagged a window seat! The air hostesses brought LMN juice boxes to everyone. LMN is a natural lemon juice drink that tastes very much like nimbu pani (homemade fresh lime water). It was delicious!

The flight was only 45 minutes, but they provided a full lunch (I didn't try it because I had my parceled food!) and behind each headrest was a personal TV showing Hindi movies with English subtitles. I read The World is Flat, a book by Thomas Friedman, and experienced again the power of reading a book 'in context'. As with India Calling, this book has a lot to say about Bangalore; how it is, and where it's headed. Reading it in context, as in while I am in Bangalore, adds a power and relevancy to the message. Friedman talks about the motivation of young Indian personnel, about the advantage to a mug-and-chug system that teaches fundamentals better than any other system in the world, and I recall my own conversations with people in the workplace. He talks about the move towards greater technology and India's yearning to Westernize and I see it in the growing prevalence of English and the fact that every auto driver seems to have a cell phone, sometimes two. 

When we landed in Goa, the airport was a lot less glamorous than I had seen it in my memory, which makes me think I got it confused with Mumbai's airport, perhaps? Stepping outside, we were hit by a wall of humidity and heat. All signs were in English, a testament to Goa's former status as a Portuguese colony and current role as India's hottest tourist destination for foreigners. 

My Dadi was to meet us at the airport with her driver, so we could travel together by car back to Kankavli, her village in the neighboring state. We couldn't see her at first, but I finally spotted her and the reunion was great. She has always been such an energetic woman, and was so wonderfully excited to have us visit. She gave all of us huge hugs and there was cheek-pinching and happy chatter. I love grandmothers. 

Her driver's name is Sunil, and he is a young auto driver who takes such amazing care of her. He accompanies her everywhere, brings her groceries and news, and helps her manage all of the small difficult details of her life. He's an important person to have, especially as she lives alone! 

The car was a Maruti Omni bus/van...okay it looks like this. 

In the back are two bench-style seats facing each other, conversation-style. There's no trunk, so our luggage was wedged in between the tangle of legs and saris and the lack of air-condition was disappointing, to put it euphemistically. Perhaps the worst part, though, was the total lack of shock absorbers. 

This van felt every rough spot, crack and bump as if it were a speed bump the size of a hill. I get stunningly carsick on any slope steeper than 'completely flat', and the six hour drive was less than pleasant. We had been anticipating a mere two hours, but according to Dadi the roads are all under repair. We had to weave between dirt roads and highway, and eventually I gave up admiring the beautiful rainforest scenery and opted for sleep. Oh yeah, so Sunil wasn't actually driving, there was another driver who held the wheel...I guess two was good insurance? 

As we drew closer to Kankavli, we stopped once for raw coconuts, much better than the ones we had had at Mysore Zoo, and once again for watermelon slices, seasoned with salt and passed to us through the windows. That was my favourite treat, I don't think I can eat watermelon without salt now!  

Finally, we reached Kankavli and Dadi's apartment. 

The flat is in a complex called Bhavani Complex (or maybe Compound...I forget) and is located near a volleyball sand court that separates it from one of the busier streets of Kankavli. It would be a lovely location except that the open grounds in front of the apartment look like a trash dump. There wasn't quite as much litter the last time I visited, and I again find myself wishing India could figure out a public sanitation system. With no trash cans anywhere in sight, people dump their waste anywhere they find open dirt and it destroys the pristine beauty natural to such a place. 

The moment we arrived, Nani went to sleep off the exhaustion, heat and stress of the journey. 
Dadi had also set up a small mattress bed on the floor for Jo and I, thankfully underneath a fan. 

In her excitement, she'd made an impressive variety of food and snacks, and gave Jo and I snacks and chai while showing us her crochet. She's incredibly talented and her house is full of crochet to beautify everything. Even simple plastic chairs gain personality from the covers she adds and it makes her happy to stay constructive instead of wiling away the days. 

After a wonderful dinner, we looked through old family photo albums and exchanged gifts. Dadi gave me knitted sweaters for myself and for Papa, and we gave her a pretty catch-all bag to hold her crochet supplies, as well as a silk sari. We all slept very early, but sleep was restless.