Week 1 in India

In a few hours, I will hit my one-week anniversary in India. It's been a doozy. I started work Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday we had a full-day, off-site workshop. Yesterday and today were spent doing paperwork and meetings with my boss and with the guy who's leaving our group at the end of the month. Oh, and I'm in India. Therein lies the doozy, my friends.

First. It's stinky. As in, gag stinky. There are about 19 million people in the greater Mumbai area and woefully inadequate garbage collection and "solid waste" (euphemism for what you flush) processing. In fact, a disgusting and truly foul river/drain runs beside the office building. In fact, this part of the city used to be one of Mumbai's three solid waste dumps. Yep, I'm working on what not so long ago was a pile of poo. Some people worry about asbestos, I worry about methane. On my walk to work this morning, two little boys dropped trou a few feet from me and started shitting. Of course, as you might imagine, the heat and humidity pump up the reek factor considerably. Fortunately, there are some really fantastic smells, too, mainly food and incense. But it's hard to overpower 19 million people's poo.

Second. It's crowded. Crossing the street is like playing Frogger. And remember that story about filling a jar with rocks, then pebbles, then sand, then finally water -- at each stage it seems full, and if you filled it with water first, there would be no room for the rest? (If not, it was about prioritizing.) Anyhow, the roads are like that. First, the trucks and buses. Then the cars and full-sized taxis. Then the three-wheeled, motorized rickshaws. Finally, the people. Everyone is jocking for position, weaving in and out of impossibly tight spaces, and generally dazzling (and occasionally terrorizing) this particular drop of water!

Third. It requires zen-like patience. Take today, when I tried to buy a SIM card for my cell phone. I went to a glitzy appliance and electronics shop and thought, "Surely, these guys have their act together! Everything is shiny and new." Ha. Finding the SIM cards was easy enough. Only, they were in a locked display case ... to which the salespeople didn't have a key. Plus, they told me, they only sold the SIM cards, they didn't activate them. Uh huh. Oh, wait, after consulting with several other salespeople, they decided that I just needed XYZ paperwork, my passport, and a passport photo. Fortunately, passport photos can be taken in the store at the Kodak stand. Sweet. Done. I go back to the SIM card case and there's a salesperson standing behind it. Only he doesn't sell the ones I want -- he only sells another company's. But they call over a girl who DOES sell the ones I want. After a bunch of back and forth, in which a good 10 sale speople got involved, I get the SIM card and take it to the cashier. There's a lot of back and forth about that, too, and all sorts of people running to and fro asking each other how to do the transaction (even though the store is equiped with a modern point-of-sale system). Once that's done -- though the charging doesn't work, so I'm the proud owner of an empty pre-paid account -- I get to start on the paperwork. There are three full pages of forms to fill out. For a PRE-PAID card. Apparently, this is a new requirement because the terrorist bombers used pre-paid phones. So, I finally get that taken card of and BOOM, my phone asks me for a "subsidy password". WTF, mate. Turns out the phone I used in the States, which they told me would work anywhere, is locked. So now I'm the proud owner of an empty pre-paid plan on a phone in lock-down mode. I try calling T-Mobile via Skype but the internet connection means he can't hear me much at all. So, I'm currently (at 9:22pm on Friday night) at the office, on a live chat with a T-Mobile representative. Breathe.

Fourth. This is realted to the third one, but it got too long. Finding an apartment anywhere is a pain, but India (or at least Mumbai) takes it to a new level. Everything is done through brokers, which are like real estate agents, only there are no online or other listings, so they only know about what they know about. Meaning, even though I know I want to live in the complex next door where there might be 10 apartments available, I could conceivably contact 20 brokers and not a single one of them would know there was availability. Plus, the apartments are not all that great. I mentioned in my previous post that there's nothing 100% modern here. The guest flat I'm staying in (it's being rented by my company) is nothing to brag about (I'll post photos to my Picasaweb), yet it's way out of my price range. It doesn't help either that the brokers I have called thus far haven't really spoken/understood English. And I don't yet speak/understand any Hindi. I'll feel so much better once I have this sorted out and can unpack my things, buy furniture, etc., and make myself at home. There's also a gym in the building next door (again, adjusting expectations -- it's not going to be Bally's) that I'm hoping to join. These sweaty, stinky walks to and from the office are not cutting it in terms of exercise.

Other notes: I have plenty of access to clean water via a filter at the guest flat and filtered water at the office. I have less plentiful access to food, mainly because I'm so overwhelmed by everything that procuring food seems just a bit too onerous. I have some cereal, yogurt, and oranges back at the guest flat. Second day in a row without lunch. Fortunately, one of my coworkers invited me over for dinner last night, so I got some veggies and pasta in. My sister says the world seems more manageable on a satisfied stomach; hopefully, I'll master that one in Week 2.

(Pardon typos, I don't have the energy/focus to go back through right now.)