Darell

I’ve been running every morning since I got here, but I decided not to this morning. Let me explain…
Last night a group of us went to the 9.45 showing of Harry Potter. (While I was slightly disappointed that we didn’t see an Indian flick, the experience of going to see a movie in India is fun enough because it is indeed an experience: think an usher showing you to your assigned seat (or at least in theory), ancient leather seats, and my personal favorite, intermission). I ate dinner late because I was updating my blog (I came back to the house for dinner instead of getting chat or pani puri—which I still haven’t had!—because I promised Shirley, the lady of the house, that I would . You see I hadn’t actually had a proper meal at the house until then even though we’re suppose to and have available three meals, the timing just hadn’t work out. Wow, that was a long sidetrack). The group waited for me so by the time I got there and we left, we had missed the earlier 8.00pm showing (even though the theatre we went to didn’t show the movie at that time). We wanted to see the movie and the only next available showing was at 9.45 so that’s why we went so late. We passed time at Café Coffee Day, sound familiar? (While in Vizag, Coffee Day was the hangout place until we were banned after the Mumbai attacks and then people still went anyways just wearing disguises but that’s another story). I got their blue cooler which was pretty much my stable in the fall. I’m kind of disappointed in myself though because since I’ve already done the whole go-for-everything-in-your-sight mentality I wanted this go around in India to be more local: only fresh fruits drinks from street vendors; no pre-made Salwar Suits from Big Bazar, instead custom-tailored from Commercial Street (but I guess that’s a bit cliché? Commercial is the Newberry Street of Bangalore); only barfi (not barf) and gulab jamin, no cho-straws as much I love them (a white/strawberry chocolate bar; there actually not Indian, but British—because a lot of British food, particularly sweets and biscuits, aren’t available or simply don’t cross my path back home in the US, I tend to associate them more with India because that’s where I see and eat them). I suppose I could have gotten pani while everyone else sipped their western delights, but that’s life right? And then to continue the cycle, I ended up getting popcorn and a candy bar during the movie. To my credit, it was a 5 star Cadbury bar (but Indian excusive I might add, I think so at least).
Well the day actually started off with a group orientation at the home of Asha, the I to I Bangalore coordinator. Let me just say her house is grand, very colonial India. I later found out that she rents the first floor and the second floor belongs to her brother-in-law’s ex-wife, perhaps a result of a nasty divorce? We then went out to lunch as a group to an Indian buffet. A British bloke named Darrel said he wanted to go to an ATM before lunch and kind of just wandered off without telling anyone. Needless to say that he never came back. When I made it back to the house later that night he said he had gotten lost (which everyone suspected) and finally just took an auto home (which for some reason he insisted on telling me he didn’t haggle over the price for, definitely not something to be proud of in my book). The really funny or sad or ironic I guess part of my little story is that the bloke was around fifty. Of all the people to run off, it was the oldest person in the group. Yes, India most definitely is a land where everything is upside down. We found out today that Darrel is going back to the UK ASAP. I missed his shpeal because my placement runs until 6 o’clock and that’s when dinner is, but I pieced together from the rest of the group that he was expecting that his placement had made definitive arrangements for him (i.e. he wouldn’t just be fit in randomly like every other volunteer in history, he even insisted on wearing a suit and tie on his first, and only, day—mind you this is India AND he was working with children from the slums—because he believed in power dressing where in children would only respect you if you clearly mark your space from the onset, he wanted to be alpha dog I suppose). When he got a reality check, I guess he right then and there decided this wasn’t worth his time and that he wanted to go home. Did I say he was 50? But what a waist of money! And as he was leaving the dinner table he handed the other volunteer at his placement 150 rupees to get something for the children, "because they really got nothing." Well, Darell, why then couldn't you haven't given them your time?