Stop the presses - Margarine crisis averted!

It seems Rod has not been overly quiet on the taxing issue of the non-spreadability of butter. One of his work colleagues, Pankaj, presented him with two tubs of margarine yesterday. 500g of Meadow Lea, and 200g of an Indian margarine called "Nutralite Healthier than Butter Table Spread"(note the lack of the clue word, margarine, in the title). The Nutralite isn't exactly margarine as we know it, it's denser and quite hard straight from the fridge, but a couple of minutes on the counter, while the fabulous toaster which toasts the whole slice of bread the same shade of brown every time does its job, and it's good enough, for government work and Rod.

Before you think Rod must be overpaying his employees, if they can afford two tubs of margarine at a time, the Nutralite cost 39 rupees, or 50p. The Meadow Lea was only 145 rupees, so either the Flora I bought the other day has Swarovski crystals imbedded in it and I didn't notice, or I was fleeced. I kinda hope I was fleeced, because knowing my luck, Keir would swallow the crystals! Better still, I know where Pankaj bought the Meadow Lea, so I can go back and purchase some more (once we've used up the three tubs in the fridge, of course). It's the Steak House at Joh Bagh Market, obviously...

the monkeys are back...

and there's gonna be some trouble!
It's midmorning, and the maid is washing down the balcony. She has an animated conversation with Teresa on the next balcony across, and then opens the sliding door and calls to me
"monkey-ya". She's right, there are two small monkeys hanging off the side of the building, and a gaggle of security guards standing on Teresa's balcony looking at them. She tells me, in broken english/hindi/mime, that big monkey (that would be the one in the photo), taken through Teresa house, with collar on, down lift. At least I think that's what she said.

A short while later there's a loud bang. And then another. I go out onto the balcony to investigate, and see an even larger gaggle of men, security guards and drivers. And some of the security guards have guns, rifles, and they're pointing them at Teresa's balcony. So I decide while that crossing MG Road in Gurgaon would still be riskier, standing on my balcony is probably not too clever, and go back inside. The bangs continue. It's a one sided affair, because the monkeys didn't appear to have much firepower behind them. I was a little troubled by these men shooting at the monkeys. I then decided they were using tranquilizer bullets, because that made me feel better. I then remembered I last saw the monkeys hanging off the side of the building 15 stories up...

The shooting continued on and off for a couple of hours. I'm hoping they were only trying to scare the monkeys away and not actually harm them. One because that appeals to my western sensibilities, and two, because if they weren't, they're really lousy shots!

It's margarine, but not as we know it...

One of the things Rod has missed the most for his entire six months in India is margarine. Okay, he missed the family, but margarine came a close second. There are many products on supermarket shelves here that look like margarine, but after purchase, when he opens the container at home, they aren't margarine. Generally they're some kind of cheese spread, and some of these have been quite nice in their own right, but they're not margarine. Sometimes even upon opening the container, he has been no more enlightened on the contents. Obviously the packages state on the outside what they are, sometimes not in a language he understands (so not English), and sometimes in English that he doesn't understand. What is "Amul Lite Bread Spread Low Fat Low Cholesterol"? Don't know, but it's not margarine. So he took the path of least resistance and bought butter. This was an easy option because it actually used the word butter on the cardboard box. However, butter is impossible to spread from the fridge, and butter kept at Indian room temperature isn't butter for very long. To get the butter at its optimum spreading temperature required planning ahead. Anyone who knows Rod and his cooking ability would understand that this is harder than it sounds.

The British School's Welcome Booklet for the year had listed a couple of supermarkets used to supplying the diplomatic and expatriate communities, so yesterday I went shopping at Basant Lok in Vasant Vihar. It was definitely a "quality not quantity" shopping experience. Prices were high (by local and by Tesco standards), but these were imported foods that would comfort us on our low days. Heinz Baked Beans, Ravioli and Cream of Tomato Soup. Fruit Winders. Scottish Cheddar. And Flora.

Rod was ecstatic when I told him I had found some Flora, and a little bemused when I told him I was hoping someone would show us the local substitute, something that was really margarine that would spread from the fridge. After all, if I knew where to buy Flora, why would I bother with a local margarine? Because the Flora had cost 458 rupees. That's £5.64 or $12.13 AUD.

Gadget Girl

Last week we acquired a few more gadgets - a microwave oven and a blender. The microwave was prompted by the last floods in Gurgaon when Rod took hours to get home and his dutiful wife (that would be me) had no easy way of keeping his dinner warm for him. I put it in the oven on low, but as it turned out, that's not the best way to ensure basil marinated chicken had any mosture left in it at all by the time moisture sodden husband returned from wading down Golf Course Road.

The microwave has a grill feature, so I decided to follow the instructions in the manual (I am a girl, I read instruction manuals) and make myself a toasted sandwich for lunch one day. You press these buttons, it says, place the sandwich on the low rack and turn it over when the machine beeps. I can do this, I think and press the buttons. The display comes up and suggests it will need 11 and a half minutes to toast my sandwich. That can't be right I think, and I was correct. It only needed 9 and a half minutes. Thankfully we packed our George Foreman Lean Mean Grilling Machine in the crates, because the sandwich wasn't really worth waiting that long for!

The blender, however, was an inspired choice. The kids haven't been consuming as much dairy produce since they arrived, what with the milk being different (in taste and not homogenised, so it separates), yoghurt they recognise is expensive, and the cheese is also different. Imported cheese is pricy and local cheese is ...different. Cheese slices come wrapped in plastic, and they can taste less plasticy (obviously that's a real word AND spelled correctly) than some of the cheese not wrapped in plastic. So for the sake of their bones, I decided we would make milkshakes! A glass of milk, some Indian icecream (think the stuff you'd give the kids not the stuff you'd eat yourself) , assorted flavouring and the blender. Hey presto! Mum's a star!

Early morning visitors

The kids had left for school (the bus picks them up outside the guard house at 0635!) and Rod and I had gone back to bed. We were awoken around 8am by a knocking sound coming from outside our apartment. It wasn't the front door, and we're on the 15th floor, so we assumed it was someone doing some building work somewhere nearby. What we didn't assume was that two monkeys were trying to get inside our flat!

Can I say we were just a little surprised when we opened the living room curtains and saw what was on the balcony? Only a few choice words were uttered!

Our next door neighbour, Teresa, was not so lucky. They managed to get into her apartment, and helped themselves to her fruitbowl. She didn't hear a thing, and when she got up, was wondering what had gone on in her place. After all, her husband Chris is housetrained. When we showed her the pictures she was thankful she didn't get up early!

Lost in Translation

I've decided I'm going to have to put more effort into learning Hindi. Every day, our driver, Raju, teaches me a couple of words, generally the things we see as we drive along. Car, motorbike, bus and tractor are the same in both languages. I’ve learnt tree, road, house, temple and overpass, but that doesn’t really help inside my home!

This morning the maid had to translate what the gas repairman was trying to tell me, and she hardly speaks English at all! He wanted two hundred rupees, she could tell me that using words. She could also tell me by the look she gave me that he was overcharging because he didn't actually fix the problem. I could tell that because before he tried to fix it, the gas flame was much higher on the right hand side of the ring. After he fixed it, the gas flame was much higher on the left hand side!

Man cannot live on Chocolate and Red Bull alone...

but Rod was willing to test the theory.

I decided it had come time to tackle the fridge. The vegetable crisper contained chocolate (but no vegetables). The shelves had a tray of chocolates, a tin of chocolates, two multipacks of Red Bull. There was also butter, cheese slices wrapped in plastic (Rod says everything dries out really quickly once opened), a packet of what was once Philadelphia but was now possibly only useful to Alexander Fleming, eggs, milk, fruit juice and lots of bottled water. So not all bad...

I moved on to the cupboards. It seems Rod was never trying to live on Chocolate and Red Bull alone, he had biscuits too! In every cupboard, except for the one he kept the cleaning products in, I found at least one packet of biscuits (cookies). When I asked, he claimed to be afraid of running out. There's a greater chance of Alexander Fleming coming back and asking for the "once Philadelphia" than of that happening! So now everything's rearranged , and I can start again. If only I knew what some of the stuff in the shops was, and how to cook it!

I'm in heaven

Thursday I had a recce up to Shanker Market. Thanks Lynn, you were right, I was in heaven! Shanker Market has lots of fabric shops, selling silks, textured cottons and cotton suitable for patchwork. I had to restrain myself, noting down the prices and promising to return once I'd worked out the yardage I'd need to line Thalia and our bedroom curtains. We bought beautiful curtains for these two rooms, but they're sheer, and it's too bright in the mornings. Once my sewing machine arrives I'll fix this problem. Lynn had also said I had to seek out a haberdashery shop at the market that would supply me with everything I would need. When I came acoss Chawla Fancy Store I knew I'd found my target. Ribbons and embellishments galore, I didn't bother restraining myself this time.

The rains started about 3, and Gurgaon was almost cut off again. Rod left work at 5.45 and didn't get here until 8.30. It normally takes 20 minutes, but he normally doesn't give up and walk for the last mile and a half!

the unexpected status symbol

I know now why the shop in the biggest mall in India didn't have any ironing boards. Ironing boards are a status item! They're really quite expensive. I went shopping in Lifestyle (a department store) and bought a saucepan, frying pan, storage boxes, a toilet brush, a bath mat and the only ironing board in the shop and the ironing board cost more than all the rest put together! When I expressed interest in buying the ironing board, two assistants came to demonstrate how one worked. "See, pull this lever and you can adjust the height, Madam." Obviously I was one of Gurgaon's last big spenders, because his next line was "Madam, can I show you some bed sheets?". I have bedsheets, I say, so he tries again. "Madam, some bath towels?" I have bath towels, I reply.

When we get home Raju, our driver, carries the ironing board into the lift to help me get my goodies upstairs. He looks at it quizically, and asks what it is. I say "an ironing board", and mime ironing some clothes (Kate, I may not do it often, but I do know how it's done!). Then I realise there's a picture of an elegant lady in a sari (definitely not a maid!) ironing on the packaging of the board. Ah, he says, in my country we call that press. So there's a little bit more Hindi in the bank!

shopping expedition

We all went shopping on the weekend, even Keir. He did suggest that Daddy stay at home so that he could stay with him. Unfortunately for Keir, Daddy did not intend to stay at home! We looked at some furniture - desks for the kids' rooms, chests of drawers for our room. We bought the kids' desks and they should be delivered today or tomorrow. The following day someone will come to assemble them. IKEA should take this up!

We also bought a new toaster and iron. Our old toaster was a little on the temperamental side, a browning setting of 2 would give you either no brown at all on 60% of the bread, or would burn the toast enough to fill the whole kitchen with smoke. You had to stand over the toaster and watch it like a hawk, you couldn't even make tea at the same time, because the moment you chose to lift the teabag could be the precise moment that the toast went from not brown to charred. The new toaster is lovely. It toasts, the whole slice, the same colour. I bought the iron so I could press my sewing, obviously I'm not going to iron with it. I have to try and find an ironing board so I can use the iron. Ironing boards were out of stock.

Thankfully no more rain so the roads are just potholey. We're back to driving on the correct side again!

and an overly wet one!

Yesterday I had my first monsoon experience. The ground is already waterlogged, and the 41mm that fell in 24 hours, brought Delhi and Gurgaon pretty much to a halt. I was out buying groceries at a basement supermarket. There was no sign of rain when I went in to the shop, but when I came out forty five minutes later, it was raining quite heavily, and they'd already started pumping the water out of the sub-basement of the building. I waded through this, getting as wet from the surface water sloshing through my sandals as I did from the rain falling from the sky! Raju, our driver, helped me get all the getting wetter shopping into the back of the car, and we started off back home, a journey that should only take 10 to 15 minutes. Well, should have and does are different. Rains earlier this season have washed away the road surface at many of the junctions, leaving some enormous potholes. Add to this standing water, really quite a lot of standing water, and it takes us 50 minutes to get home. Rod was supposed to be travelling up to Delhi for a meeting, and Raju was supposed to pick him up at 1.30. At 1.30, Raju and I are almost at home, and on a good day, Rod's office is a 20 minute drive away. This obviously only counts as a good day for ducks (and the cows, who are looking a lot cleaner!). Rod calls to check his meeting is still on, to find that the people he was supposed to meet were also stuck in traffic, and not expecting to get to their destination in time for the meeting after his, let alone the one he was supposed to attend. So he decides to come home and phones to say he's on his way, and we'll go to another local shopping centre to sort out my mobile phone. Fifteen minutes later, he's coming through the front gate. I couldn't work out how he managed that, because he has to come down Golf Course Road, the best road in Gurgaon, the road it took Raju and I so long to creep down with water sloshing above the door seals! It turns out Raju, one of the more road rule abiding Indians, decided to drive Rod down the wrong side of Golf Course Road. When Rod queried why they were driving down the wrong side of the road, with traffic coming at them, Raju points to the stationary traffic on the correct side of the road and says "50 minutes. This side, 5 minutes". Bizarrely, logic like that seems to work over here. The cars on the correct side of the road just move over. We lost our number plate in a pothole, somewhere!

A good day, indeed.

I'm not easily defeated (well, not too easily), so the next morning I troop down to the Accounts Office. I say, what happened to my plumber, I waited all day. A rather tall man in one of the Security uniforms hands me a pink booklet, which lists all the internal phone numbers in the complex. He points to the Complaint Room and says, "You phone here. But they will no understand your language, so you phone here", and points to the Accounts Office, the room I am currently standing in. So I tell them I want my drains fixed and they say someone will be up in half an hour. Rod has explained to me that I should not get excited by this statement, it's a little like "the cheque's in the post".

So I go up to my apartment and within five minutes the doorbell rings. It's two of the maintenance crew, one obviously more senior than the other because he wasn't carrying any tools. They want to see my drains. Tool guy investigates the problem (the water doesn't drain away from the shower for ages), and the other watches him. They agree there is a problem, and say they will be back in ten minutes.

Then the internal phone rings. It's the front gate, speaking in Hindi. Rod has told me the trick here, listen and when you understand one word, like "pizza", say, "Send him up to A151". Well, the only word I understood was Airtel, and as that's the company who supplies our not working telephone landline, I say authoritatively, "Send him up to A151".

So a new Airtel guy arrives at the apartment, understands what is wrong with my phone - I can receive calls but I can't make them - without me needing to be Marcel Marceau, and fixes it. Then, only an hour after the ten minutes is up, the plumber returns and fixes my drains. This is an unexpectedly good day!

Interesting time keeping

In India, stuff happens when it happens. This is not the same time as when it is supposed to happen. Yesterday, for example, I was told at 10 am that someone would be right up to fix my blocked drain in the bathroom. I was also told to expect someone to come and fix my telephone (I could receive calls, but not make them) at about 1 o'clock. No-one came to fix my drain, and at 5.30 a man who spoke as much English as I did Hindi came to look at the telephone. Our friend Raj, who speaks great Hindi AND English, had logged our telephone fault with the phone company, so I would have expected the man who came to fix the phone to know what I wanted fixing. This expectation proved to be wrong. Raj and his wife Nitti weren't home, so I tried to mime "I can receive calls, but I can't make them". I also tried to make an out-going call, so he could hear what I hear when I do (no ringing at all, just an engaged type tone). This didn't work, and the man said something to me, I have no idea what, and left. Rod tells me, that's what it's like in India.

we're leaving...on a jet plane

After seventeen years as Lana in London, I have now "upped sticks" and come to New Delhi. Rod got here in February, but we wanted the kids to finish the school year in Britain. That was a whole two weeks ago. We managed to leave London last Friday with 180 kilos of luggage, so unsurprisingly it’s not all unpacked yet. Rod promises never to say again, “we have a luggage allowance of 150 kilos, go on, add it.”

The flight was fabulous, after I had flirted with a triumvirate of gay check in guys so we could get all those bags (and two boxes, ran out of suitcases) on the plane without paying excess. One said to me, “What are you doing, going to live there?” I replied, “You don’t think he’d let me pack like this to go on holiday!”.

Upper Class is the only way I want to travel in future, so my life is going to be full of disappointment. The kids loved the clubroom at the airport, and had pizza and chips served to them so they didn't have to wait until the dinner service on board. This was good, because dinner wasn't served until almost midnight. They got in their sleepsuits before takeoff, and had their seats converted to beds as soon as the seatbelt sign went off. Keir slept the whole way, and had to be woken so his bed could be converted back to a seat for landing. Thalia woke about an hour before the breakfast service, and sat at the bar chatting to all the flight attendants. In the clubroom Rod and I had a Cosmopolitan (or two) and asparagus served with a poached egg and hollandaise (and smoked salmon for me) as our pre-flight snack. Thalia got her nails painted in the salon while I had a shoulder, neck and head massage. You'll be surprised to hear (NOT!) that the therapist said I was carrying a lot of tension between my shoulder blades!

The kids have been in school three days now, and both seem to be settling in okay. Well, Thalia says she is, and Keir doesn't say anything much, so we just assume like always :-) Thalia's in a class of 17 and has made a number of new friends - Johanna, Alisa and Laura. Keir is in a class of 22 and has made new friends called Dan and Harry and doesn't have a girlfriend yet.

It's not as hot here as I was expecting (thank God!), but after it rains the humidity racks up so it feels unpleasant until the rain evaporates. We sleep with the aircon on. It's loud, but easier to deal with than the heat. So far jetlag has been minimal (touch wood). Slept well the first night (amazing what exhaustion can do for you). The second night was more disturbed, but the last two have been quite good.

Yesterday a maid turned up and cleaned the house. She spent four hours, and collected together enough sand to have made a small sandpit. She came back this morning (when I thought the house still looked spotless) and collected enough sand to make it worth her while. It rained a fair bit yesterday afternoon, so that probably kept the sand level down. She'll come every day around 10.30 (except Sunday) to wash the breakfast and last night's dinner dishes, clean the kitchen, make the beds, dust and sweep the whole house including balconies and wet wash the floor. Once a week she cleans the bathrooms, but will do it more often if I ask her to. Normally this will take her two and a half hours (I'm guessing more on the day she does the bathrooms). For this we pay her 3000 rupees a month or £36. And then she goes over to Block E and does the same for our friends Nitti and Raj. My friend Kate and I used to share cleaners in London. I'd pay them £36 every two weeks, and they'd give me four hours cleaning! So some things are the same, and others are very different!