For A Friend

For the nomad at heart, I wish you were here to share this amazing journey. Even under the sweltering heat, everyday here to me carries a hint of Bon Iver. To great photographs, great writing, and great journeys!



Sold my cold knot
A heavy stone
Sold my red horse for a venture home
To vanish on the bow --
Settling slow

Fit it all, fit it in the doldrums
(Or so the story goes)
Color the era
Film it's historical

My mile could not
Pump the plumb
In my arbor 'till my ardor
Trumped every inner inertia
Lump sum

All at once
Rushing from the sub-pump
(Or so the story goes)
Balance we won't know
We will see when it gets warm

the rules of living

i am living at the jayabheri apartments. despite living in one of the nicer apartments in hyderabad already, there is still much to get used to. hot water is a scarcity. they call it geyser here. like how my old grandma's place used to be, you turn on this stove thirty minutes prior to shower to get the water heated. but next to that, the soap smells like mosquito repellant, you sweat at night with your room's a/c turned on to the fullest, and you never, ever brush your teeth using the tap water (you must use bottled water). you will see that this apartment is modest at best (per american standard), to be very honest, but this is simply the best here. there's a rule for us about not inviting local employees to our corporate housing simply because we do not want them to see the sharp contrast in our living conditions.

as predicted, the temperature went up to about 110 today when i headed out. rumors have it that your makeup will melt under this kind of heat. i put makeup on anyway, but only after i put on sunscreen. there really is very little incentive for vanity in this place, and i doubt i'll have the energy to put up this vanity fight for much longer. i have no mobile phone here yet, but i stumble into ismail, our coordinator for rides. the expats have all gone to the crickets match, he tells me. they call us expats, and crickets is one of the most popular sports here. ismail tells me it is not suitable for going out under this weather. you don't want to nap? he asks. i reassure him i'd like to see the town even if i'm by myself. he arranges for randiver to take me around. sitting in the car, watching this town, i am overwhelmed with the way people live their lives. we're separated by this car only, and i'm witnessing their lives and i cannot even describe them. this place blows me away.

i am starving. i keep looking at the menus at the mall but i have to choose my food wisely. in heeding everyone's advice about food and drinks it almost makes me lose my appetite. i end up ordering a fanta and a tiramisu. they bring out my fanta, in a glass with ice. almost immediately i pull all the ice cubes out of my glass--they won't fool me--ice cubes are just unbottled water in disguise. i take a bite of tiramisu. it's very possible i may not eat for the rest of my stay. the only comfort i get is from the thought of having imodium in my purse. i see that everyone else is having water. i want water very badly. what is so different about our bodies that makes us unable to consume what their bodies can handle?

let me take you through town:

welcome to hyderabad

i board a lufthansa flight from san francisco to frankfurt. it has been many years since my last international travel. i realize it's a two-leveled plane. i don't even remember if they existed before, or whether this is something i should be amazed at. have you ever had this feeling before, where you're faced with something and you're not even sure if you're supposed to be amazed, overwhelmed or what?



i've by now traveled across three time zones. on this last flight to india, i sense that i am getting many stares. they stare at the way i dress, and the way i handle my bags in the overhead compartment. after nearly 24 hours of flying, i've finally landed in hyderabad, india.

there are so many men standing around. they all have badges and at first i thought they were dedicated drivers here to pick up their clients, but they just stand around as we all exit the plane and walk toward security checkpoint. i feel like they're waiting to do something. what are they doing? there are so, so many men standing around.

i am in search of a currency exchange booth. i look around the exit, and all of a sudden, i feel like 10 different people are waving at me. they each point to their booth, and i frankly tell them, 'i am confused.' finally one booth waves more excitedly at me and i walk towards them. that's when i realized the other booth has just lost my business. i leave the currency exchange booth, forgetting to do calculations in my head. oh well, i don't even know if i had just been ripped off. some odd thousands of dollars in indian rupees sounds fine to me right now.

i am overwhelmed. there is a scene right outside the exit of the airport. there are easily hundreds of people, kept in place only by the fences so they cannot block the entire walkway. i am afraid to step outside. where is my driver who's supposed to pick me up? the guard advises me to walk outside toward this crowd. they are so loud and so eager, and when you walk out, all of a sudden you're the center of attention as if you're walking on the red carpet. the guard tells me the google driver is right there. i finally see my driver, and i leave this crowd. it is about 90 degrees. at this rate during the day it will get up to 110. on our drive the driver tells me this is a brand new airport, about one month old only, and that many people come out to the airport just to see it. visiting this new airport is a spectacle that warrants an event. our drive to the apartment complex is going to be another hour, he says.

they yell. vehicles swerve wherever they want, from 'lane' to 'lane,' if you even call them lanes. the way it unfolds to me right now, there is no rule in driving as long as you don't hit somebody. even that doesn't seem to scare them, because this other car who is trying to take our spot on the road keeps inching up when we inch up that they actually hit the traffic guard who is telling them to stop. because vehicles swerve wherever, whenever, cars honk when they're about to pass another vehicle to warn them that they're coming. scooters are all over the road, many of them carry up to a family of 4. the driver keeps swerving and honking at these scooters. the horns here are like brakes, stopping people from getting killed. it's a miracle no one was killed today.

it is too dark. there are no lights on the freeway at all except for the headlights coming from the cars. along the freeway i keep noticing people walking. we pass desolation after desolation. all of these run down warehouses and buildings and construction site after construction site. it is unclear to me whether they are demolishing or rebuilding something. the driver confirms to me that the run down warehouses i see are actually shops that are just closed at night. during the day they will reopen. and all i see in the dark are people walking. it is past midnight. where are they going? we pass by a gas station that seems to be the place to be at night. there are so many people gathered around this gas station in the dark. must be some kind of a hangout spot.

suddenly the driver swerves into a deserted piece of land on the side. he brakes on the car, turns to me, mumbles something, and says sorry. he turns off the engine of the car and steps out, leaving me in the car. what did he just say? my life in india has only lasted about 40 minutes, and i can only hear about 40% of the english that they speak. he opens the trunk now. you're sorry.... about what? you're sorry that you're going to have to kill me? you're sorry that you're going to rob me? you're sorry that something bad will happen to me? i have no idea what is going on; i can faintly see him take out something from the trunk and he walks towards my side. what is he doing? drinking water? peeing? sneezing? i try not to look. is he stealing my things? there is nothing i can do at this point. he finally enters the car again. i ask him, is everything okay? yes, he says. we're okay again, and he drives off again.