I ordered pasta for lunch yesterday. The waiter suggested I do the buffet as the hot station was serving noodles that day. They had penne and gemelli with a choice of sauces; cheese or Arrabbiata. I asked if I could have a little of each, and then made clear that I did not want them mixed together…at least I thought I made myself clear. What they brought to my table was a combination of both pastas AND both sauces. I think I just need to surrender and order Indian food from here on out, at least if they mess that up I won’t know the difference.
Let me share a little something with you. Indian women seem to be worse than men in the states when it comes to leaving the toilet seat up and the floor wet. As most of you may know, using toilet paper here is the exception; the left hand being the rule. Along with the south paw wipe they use water from a spray hose, spigot or bucket; thus the wet floors. As far as the seat being left up, they squat here. Don’t think I don’t know that most women squat in public restrooms; it’s just that Indian toilets (i.e. squat toilets) do not have seats. Therefore I don’t think they’re used to putting them back down. Confused? Take a look at these two gems:
I’ve literally been burning through my cigarette supply these last couple of weeks. What I packed actually had me wondering if I’d get stopped at customs on the way in so I had my appeal all ready. “No, I am not looking to sell these in your country. I swear I will smoke…Every. Single. One.” I’m sure that at least half of you reading this will tell me it’s a good time to quit. BUT, I have been stuck in an hotel room in India, that keeps serving me mystery soup, with the prospect of getting into a flat seeming like a tiny flicker of light at the end of a very long tunnel…so just keep that ‘quitting smoking’ thing to yourself for now…and Lord help Paul when I do run out.
After a loud boom yesterday morning the power went off periodically all day and into the night. I laughed when it went dark in the restaurant and Paul was the only who got it when I flicked my lighter and said “Free Bird”. I kept my sense of humor when I had to feel my way out of the restroom. Not such a good time was being caught in a dark, stopped elevator for about a minute….twice.
Question: “How many Indians does it take to make a bed?”
If you’re waiting for the punch line, there isn’t one. I just watched two boys from housekeeping make the bed…and it took them ten minutes. Of course I could tell you that I was in the room a few days ago and only one made up the bed…but it took him twenty minutes.