The Adventures Of A Wanderlust

A collection of pictures, links, anecdotes, awkward experiences and other happenings while I'm globetrotting this year.

Lost in Translation

8th June 10

Yesterday I went to a wedding in the motherland, which was awesome aesthetically, but a little bit of a drag since I didn’t know any of the guests, or for that matter, the people actually getting married! Good thing I was with my cousins so they kept me company and it was actually pretty amusing to be introduced to everyone who used to know my parents when they were cutesy babies. Now dinner was pretty much the number one reason why I was excited to attend the night’s festivity, but sadly the food was kinda disappointing. The reception, on the other hand,  was absolutely stunning and the couple looked totally love drunk.

(Just a little background info, my accent tends to get me into a TON of awkward conversations/ situations since most people do not understand me) So after I finished dinner, I went up to a waiter and asked, “Where do I place my plate?” Instead, the guy gave me a puzzled look and awkwardly stared at my plate for a few seconds, then me. He thought I was asking for some tomato paste. He began to say that he didn’t think the kitchen had any in the back, but that he would run out and get some for me. I was obviously really confused as to why this guy was bringing up tomato paste, so I kept on repeating “No no no, I mean my dirty plate (awkwardly motioning at my plate), where do I put my plate?!” The waiter began to get a little flustered and annoyed and said, “Madame, I’m telling you we do not have the tomato paste. I will run out and get it—just give me a few minutes.” This went on for a good two minutes and by the end, the poor guy was so frustrated, he gave me a great fake smile and walked off. No worries, I awkwardly stood there with my dirty plate for just a few minutes longer, but oh my god, Cairo is going to be ridiculous if I have this much trouble getting people to understand me here with my English, let alone my Hindi/ Arabic.

Guess that just means more stories for you guys :)

Ahmedabad

4th June 10

I’m flying out in a couple of hours to visit family. I have done a pretty crappy job of updating on stories, but I promise I’ll upload loads of pictures and posts when I’m back! 

xo

4th June 10
The woman in the pink sari.
This woman literally took my breath away. I hate that I didn’t get a better picture of her. Women here always look so effortlessly beautiful and glamorous. It seriously brings new meaning to eye candy. 

The woman in the pink sari.

This woman literally took my breath away. I hate that I didn’t get a better picture of her. Women here always look so effortlessly beautiful and glamorous. It seriously brings new meaning to eye candy. 

Umm WTF?!

30th May 10

So this post is random as hell. Anywho, a little warning for anyone traveling to ridiculously hot places in the future— staying out/ walking around in the sun or raging heat can cause intense nose bleeds. I found that out about 30 minutes ago and now have a bath towel covered with blood. Lovely, I know. 

On another note, I bought two really cute tops for 3 bucks each from some street vendors. Lucky for me, I was with my friends who are amazing at haggling, unlike me, who is used to overpaying for everything in New York. 

29th May 10

City pics, as promised. 

Cute Story

29th May 10

Yesterday night my uncle and cousin took me out to explore the Bombay streets. What’s funny is I always make fun of the wide-eyed tourists in New York, yet, here I am, in India, definitely a tourist, but totally embracing it (camera around my neck and all). There is something about the streets and this city that make me feel like a five-year-old in a ridiculously exciting and foreign world. Honestly, it’s utterly refreshing to not know what is going on.

Okay, I’m done rambling, now time for that cute story. 

So, while we were walking around last night, I passed by this little hole in the wall with 20 kids packed into a room and a creepy old man in front, guarding the door. Obviously I was perturbed, and asked my uncle what was going on inside. He laughed, and after noticing my look of concern, reassured me that there was nothing to worry about. It turns out that most of those kids were either homeless or lived in homes without televisions. This is actually quite common, so some guys with a TV in the neighborhood open up their homes, for the price of 5 rupees per head, and create a mini affordable theatre for the block. Now, keep in mind, these rooms do not have ANY air conditioning or even windows, but these yougins still squeeze their tiny butts into this room, just to escape the city for a little bit and get lost in a movie or a TV show. Honestly, I couldn’t help but smile after I heard this story. This experience is obviously quite humbling, but there is also something really beautiful about these children. The things that kids are able to do to keep themselves happy— I can’t help but be amazed. Then, me being an optimistic sap, I started dreaming up stories about these yougins growing up to be movie stars. Let’s hope it comes true, or maybe just some better luck for their futures.

-sighs- 

"I hope you punch a cow and they send you to jail [in India]."

25th May 10

Edin Fako (Yeah, my friends really miss me). 

25th May 10
Holy Crap India is hot, and not in a dirty/ pseudo hip kinda way, but legit, I’m sweating like a mofo hot. No worries, I’ve already started acclimating to this weather. My grandmother has always known there is no better way to welcome anyone than with a warm meal, so, lucky for me, she remembered my childhood obsession with roomali roti. MMmmmM this roti is basically the thinnest bread you could ever imagine, drenched in butter and lightly grilled atop of an oven fire. The name, “Rommali roti,” pretty much translates to thin as a handkerchief bread. No matter how hard I tried, I could never find a decent place in New York that makes this type of roti. Seriously, this bread, with a cup of chai and chatting with my grammy in my crappy Hindi, made me feel like I never even left this place. Oh Bombay. 
Now I’m off to explore the city (aka buy things I forgot to pack). I’ll post some pictures of the city soonish. 

Holy Crap India is hot, and not in a dirty/ pseudo hip kinda way, but legit, I’m sweating like a mofo hot. No worries, I’ve already started acclimating to this weather. My grandmother has always known there is no better way to welcome anyone than with a warm meal, so, lucky for me, she remembered my childhood obsession with roomali roti. MMmmmM this roti is basically the thinnest bread you could ever imagine, drenched in butter and lightly grilled atop of an oven fire. The name, “Rommali roti,” pretty much translates to thin as a handkerchief bread. No matter how hard I tried, I could never find a decent place in New York that makes this type of roti. Seriously, this bread, with a cup of chai and chatting with my grammy in my crappy Hindi, made me feel like I never even left this place. Oh Bombay. 

Now I’m off to explore the city (aka buy things I forgot to pack). I’ll post some pictures of the city soonish. 

22nd May 10
Off to the motherland tomorrow! I can’t wait to be sipping on some chai at the Taj, driving around in rickshas everyday and, most importantly, taking pictures every second. For now, here’s hoping for a safe and relaxing flight. Oh, and to actually start/ finish packing. 

Off to the motherland tomorrow! I can’t wait to be sipping on some chai at the Taj, driving around in rickshas everyday and, most importantly, taking pictures every second. For now, here’s hoping for a safe and relaxing flight. Oh, and to actually start/ finish packing.