Indian Diary of a Worldly and Streetsmart Traveler No. 3

August 13, 2006.

I am sitting on a train, on the way to Newark to catch my flight to Delhi. I am typing up a training manual for young business school students who are involved in a student group studying causes of communal violence and prevention of open conflict. My mind is stuck in an analytical mode. It’s a lot of ‘how tos’ ‘what to do whens’… While writing, I noticed a guy across the isle and decided to write a manual about him. He’s a busy one, fidgeting about, doing this and that, thus providing me with a lot of material for observation. My neighbor (ugly pimpled little shrimp, must be a virgin still) is writing a porn story about some Lie “getting plowed [sic!] from behind”, thus I need to do everything in my power to stay focused on my screen. Shudder.

WORLDLY AND STREETSMART TRAVELER’S GUIDE TO SPOTTING A TRAVELER FROM CAPE COD:
To determine whether or not the subject of your observation is indeed returning from Cape Cod, you will need to focus on the following:
1) Appearance and behavior
2) Edible items
3) Print material

1) Appearance and behavior:
1a) The Cape Cod returnee would be clad in casual summery items. He may be wearing khaki pants of a light coloring, white sneakers or flip flops. In latter case try to discern whether the subject has sand stuck to his toes. Fingernails may be dirty, unless the subject has OCD and cleans nails compulsively (please refer to the section 1b) on OCD spotting below). The t-shirt may depict a crab or somesuch sea creature. Over the t-shirt, the subject just might wear a linen blue and white checkered suit. If accompanying by wife, she, too, will be wearing a linen suit. They will be very clean and stiff looking.

1b) OCD spotting:
It might be of essential importance to determine whether the subject is OCD as that is a variable that has to be factored into the formula in order to avoid data pollution. OCD subject will most likely be brightly clean. He will stand up and sit down repeatedly to check his back pocket. If the subject is carrying a live lobster in a paper bag, he will also check on the lobster every five seconds and talk to it softly. Subject will leaf through the paper a few times before he starts reading it and he will make sure each page is neatly and appropriately folded. Then he will stand up a few times to check his back pocket again. Such subject will have clean toenails even if returning from Cape Cod (refer to section 1a) for details).

2) Edible items:
- Oyster crackers. Lots of them. Everywhere. Loud.
- Clam chowder. Smelly. Annoying. Spilling on neighbor who apparently finds that annoying as well.
- Live lobster. Really. Subject may prance around with it, taking it to the café coach for unfathomable reasons (To have it cooked? To have it put in water or fridge?), then come back and peak into the lobster’s paper bag and talk at it every now and then.

3) Print material:
Provincetown Magazine.
Post cards from Provincetown.
Whale watch leaflets from Provincetown. Subject will be waving them around ostentatiously while talking to spouse in animated fashion so as not to leave one soul behind and unaware that the subject has seen live whales recently. La-de-da.


If your subject scores highly on at least two out of the three items listed above, he is most likely coming from a vacation in Provincetown. The sooner you acknowledge this and pretend to be envious, the better will your chances be of him giving it up and leaving everybody alone.

So it begins...or the Indian Diary of the Worldly and Streetsmart Traveler No. 3

Movie. Must watch a movie. Have a beer. Sit down.

How do people do it? Shanti was telling me yesterday that she usually packs within half an hour. I started at 11am. It's 10pm now and I just closed the suitcase. I can say proudly that it is at least 1/2 empty, though for fairness' sake, I need to add that it's a monster of a suitcase. But it's the only one where the two giant paper rolls I'm bringing for our training would fit. Not that I pack in one go either. I don't do anything straightforwardedly. While I pack I find things that distsract me in the process. Thus I did my manicure and pedicure, since I found the dearly missed awesome nailfile that was hiding in a pile of papers, I stitched some missing buttons on things, went to buy another Wild Turkey bottle for Andreas to bring to Hyderabad (he requested two). I also washed my Timbuk2 bag and my Fighter Club sneakers and while I was collecting them from the garden where they were drying, I watered the lawn and all the plants. That's at least 4 hours of activities right there. Plus trying on all of my t-shirts to see which will cover my new tattoo. I'd rather not display it to the 200 students that are devoutedly Christian, conservative, timid, and uptight.

I wish they were handing out the Wild Turkey t-shirts with those bottles I bought. Since it's my dad's favorite bourbon as well, I've been buying it for some time. It came with a t-shirt once that depicts a very red turkey and says 'Wild Turkey' on it. That's all. Looks funny on my father, to say the least. It goes well with his collection of t-shirts, many of which are inheritance from my teenage years. There's the 'Psycho' t-shirt, the 'Nirvana In Utero' t-shirt, the crazy army t-shirt... He wears them all. To work. Combined with short shorts, long socks, and sandals. He's a professor, mind you. Oh well, I embraced it as a charming element of his character. I used to concern myself a great deal with what he wears, inspect his outfit before he leaves the house, but these days it actually warms my heart to see his silly outfits. Whenever he buys a piece of clothing for himself, it guarantees to be a lot of fun, if hideous. His suits have a colorful checkered inside that shows on cuffs and collar, his pants will have twenty pockets and fifty buttons... Seems that I'm homesick. If I could choose whether to fly to Hyderabad, New Zealand, Brazil, Rwanda, tropical islands of the Carribean, or Slovakia tomorrow, I would not hesitate. Well, I'd think about Rwanda for 10 seconds, but still. I am due to go home for awhile.
But I'm not going home. I'm going to Hyderabad. (Bummer. Oh poor me). Via Newark and New Delhi. There I meet David and Brigitt, and we'll stay in 'Hotel Star' near the airport. Hotel Star is sending a driver for 'Sir Dagmar" to pick us up. I reserved our rooms over email, and it seems that it never dawned on them I could possibly be a female. I am in charge, arranging things, I must be a Sir Dagmar. Sure made for a good nickname.
I shall watch Hotel Rwanda now to get ready for the trip. Don't ask me how, I'm not even sure how myself, but it does make perfect sense deep down in my head. The Department of Homeland Security and their freezing of all pending applications, which screwed me over big time, is to be thanked for my gloomy mood. But musn't grumble. There are always worse things in the world than not being able to work or possibly face deportation. Like... genocide. Which is why I read Dallaire, Gourevitch, or Powers in bed before I switch the lamp off.
I should seek inspiration from my five year old nephew. He repeated the mantra I taught him to me on the phone today:"I choose to be happy! I choose to be happy!" And he's bloody right.

Hotel Rwanda it is. Whee! More to come... from Hyderabad.