TRAFFIC

It's so funny that every time I take a photo of the main road near here, it comes out looking like there's only one car on the whole road, instead of the insane loud bustle of hellish traffic racing in both directions with everyone trying to pass everyone else. 

Big day today. My neighbor took me last night to see a friend of his, who is being a cell phone technician to look at my phone. After much hullabaloo, which I didn't understand, he tested my SIM card in his phone and it worked so we established that it was my phone that was problematic. So I made arrangements with a driver to go this morning to Panjim, the capital city of Goa for an excursion. The first stop was the authorized Apple repair shop. My driver dropped me off in the general vicinity and I used my rudimentary mastery of Hindi to ask directions. I must say, I was impressed at how well I was able to communicate. 

Anyhow, I found the Apple repair shop on the fourth floor of an old building (many steps) and it was locked shut (even though the sign said the hours and I was there during business hours. I asked the accountant down the hall, and he told me they were moving. He did tell me that there was an Apple Store nearby and that I should ask someone to direct me to the Fidalgo Hotel. So back I went, asking directions again and eventually found Apple Corner, where I was told that many Indian SIM cards are not working with the new iPhone 4S. He told me to use another company and made sure to tell me to get the microSIM card from that company and not let them cut a regular SIM card for me. 

GANDHI OR GARY?

Next stop was the Khadi shop, for homespun cotton garments that I like to where both here and back home. This was one thing I wished I had bought more of last time. So... Again with the asking of directions. This was a bit more difficult, since a Khadi shop sells traditional Indian garments, and Indians want to wear Western clothes, so they would have no reason to go there. But I found it finally. And... It's closed and locked. The sign says the hours. I am there within the usual hours. But nothing. So I stand and wait. Eventually a man comes and opens the shop and suddenly I am one of three customers in the tiny shop. I stocked up on clothes to make me look more like Gandhi. 

Two more stops and the driver took me back to Candolim and I had him drop me at the post office. Next adventure. I had a bunch of Indian clothing and souvenirs to mail home, rather than trying to stuff my tiny suitcase. First I looked outside for a lady who would stitch up a package. Nope. So I climbed the stairs to the stifling little post office full of customers clambering to be served. When I finally get the attention of the clerk, I ask her where I can have my package sewn. She tells me that it will take some time. "Sit down." she yells. I look and there is only one chair in the tiny public area an the man sitting there jumps up and instructs me to sit. So I sit. Finally, the clerk asks me if I have a photocopy of my documents. I do. I hadn't expected to need them there, but had brought them for the phone store, in case I needed a new SIM card, which I did. Then she asks me I have the customs documents. No. I don't. So she hands me a photocopy of the customs document and tells me that I will need two. Lol. She tells me to go somewhere and make a photocopy. Lol. I ask if I can't just have another and I could pay her for it. She says no. 

So now I have to pile all my days shopping as well as all the other things I had brought along that morning to mail, and head back out into the hot sun to search for a Xerox machine. I find one three blocks away and make eight copies of her customs document (I'm learning, and had a feeling I might need more than one) and six more copies of my passport and visa (I've already used four this week). Then I trudge back. It's at this point that the clerk tells me that I have too many things for one package and it will have to be split into two packages. So I will need four copies of the customs document and two copies of my passport and visa. Ahah! I have enough. The clerk, who had assumed that I would have to go back out fo copies was clearly impressed with my preparedness and suddenly became a bit friendly. She began sewing the parcel herself as I began filling out four copies of the customs document. This all took about two hours. 

On the way home, I stopped at the phone shop of my neighbor's friend and bought a new SIM card. (one more passport copy and one more passport photo). I asked if they had a microSIM card. I said I didn't want a regular SIM card cut. "No problem. No problem." Sure enough, she cuts a regular SIM card to fit my phone. We shall see. 

Tonight I went off to Jivi's house for dinner. His house is a bit out of the way, about 45 minutes from the beach. But what a beautiful home. It's an old Portuguese villa that he has had enlarged in a very stylish way. Four guest rooms and several large dining areas both indoors and out with manicured grounds and a lap pool. Two very emotional dogs greeted me at the gate and ripped my sarong (where shall I send the tailor and dry cleaning bills?)While chef prepared dinner for us, Jivi showed me around the grounds. One of the servants (all cute boys) followed us around and Jivi barked commands at him in Hindi. This candle needs a plate beneath it. This painting is hanging too high. This plant is too green. It was all a bit much. 

नमस्ते